The shadows swarmed like a plague of insects descending from the night.
At first, Dante thought they were just the usual foot soldiers—grunt mercenaries Phantom always sent. But the way they moved… no, this was something else. Their motions were too quick, too fluid, almost inhuman. They didn't just have backup. Phantom had brought something far deadlier: enhanced soldiers, engineered for one purpose—kill.
A blur of motion came at Dante from the left. The first attacker lunged with a savage snarl, fists aiming to crush. Dante shifted his stance smoothly, letting the momentum carry past him. Instead of blocking, he flowed with the strike, twisting his torso to deliver a precise blow to the ribs. The strike hit with a dull thud, like metal against reinforced armour.
The man staggered but didn't fall.
Before Dante could capitalise, he spun his heel upward in a swift arc, catching the attacker's helmet with a sharp crack. The man crashed back into a crate, splinters flying. No time to catch his breath—a second enemy was already behind him, fast and relentless.
Dante's mind flashed with recent memories—vivid impressions of Daredevil's ruthless precision and Spider-Man's acrobatic grace. Every fight he'd watched, every move he'd studied… now they surged to life inside him.
His body adapted.
Muscles coiled, senses sharpened, reflexes quickened. He ducked low, sweeping the legs out from under the second attacker. As the man hit the ground, Dante exploded upward with a palm strike to the chest, sending him flying several feet across the cracked concrete.
"Dante!" Spider-Man's voice called out overhead, swinging through the dockside cranes like a steel-threaded spider. "Heads up—those guys aren't standard issue!"
"No kidding," Dante replied, voice low and grim as he twisted to face another charging brute.
Spider-Man's web shot out, snagging the man mid-run and yanking him backwards into a steel beam with a sickening crack.
Meanwhile, Daredevil moved like a demon born of shadows and sound. His batons snapped through the air, striking with brutal, surgical precision. In mere moments, he'd disabled three attackers, but even the devil's stamina was being tested—his breaths came heavier, sweat glistening on his brow.
"These guys are juiced," Daredevil growled between strikes. "Modifications… tech-based enhancements, maybe biotech."
"Copy that," Dante muttered, narrowing his eyes on one of the fallen soldiers. A faint blue pulse emanated from a device embedded in the centre of the merc's chest plate.
That tech—it was custom, highly advanced. And terrifyingly familiar.
Dante dropped to one knee beside the merc, fingers darting to pry the device loose. The instant his skin touched the core, a surge of energy jolted through him. His system responded in a flash.
[Adaptation Triggered]
[Analysing Energy Signature...]
[Pattern Recognised: Kinetic Redistribution Core]
[Skill Gained: Shock Feedback (Lv.1)]
Incoming melee damage is redirected as a concussive force in a 10-foot radius.
Dante's heartbeat stuttered. A weaponised feedback loop. He could turn their strength against them.
He rose just as another attacker charged, fist cocked to strike his chest. The impact hit hard—burning, rattling—but Dante's body shimmered with a faint blue aura. The energy snapped back, exploding outward in a concussive shockwave.
The merc flew back, slamming into two of his allies and knocking all three to the ground in a heap.
Spider-Man froze mid-swing, his voice awed. "That… was awesome."
Daredevil landed beside Dante, eyes sharp beneath his mask. "You're adapting mid-battle now?"
"Something like that," Dante said, flexing his fingers as the residual energy fizzled. "Whatever they're running—I'm syncing with it."
"Good," Daredevil nodded. "Because I'm hearing more footsteps."
The sound came soon enough. A deep, rhythmic pounding echoed through the docks—the unmistakable tremor of heavy boots and mechanised gear.
From the shadows emerged a figure taller than the rest, wrapped in a sleek black exosuit marked by a glowing skull etched across the chest. The air around him crackled with raw, contained energy.
His voice boomed through a modulated speaker, mechanical and chilling.
"Dante. You weren't supposed to survive Cairo. But here you are."
Dante's eyes narrowed. "Who the hell are you?"
The figure tilted his head, voice laced with cold amusement.
"Echo Protocol. Field Unit #03. I don't expect you to remember me, but I remember you."
Without warning, his gauntlet flared, energy pulsing and coalescing into a destructive orb.
"You escaped. That was a mistake."
The orb exploded forward.
Dante dodged instinctively, rolling just as the blast scorched his shoulder and detonated against the crates behind him. Wood and metal splintered, the shockwave ripping through the air.
"Scatter!" Daredevil barked, hurling one of his batons with deadly accuracy.
Echo Protocol caught the weapon mid-air without flinching and crushed it in his grip, shards raining down like deadly confetti.
Dante dove behind a battered crate, heart hammering. This wasn't just a random ambush. Phantom had sent a message. Echo Protocol was the harbinger.
He forced himself to breathe. Calm, steady. Focus.
This fight wasn't about surviving anymore. Not just yet.
It was about evolving.
Dante's system flickered at the edge of his awareness. Data scrolled rapidly as it scanned the battlefield, analysed enemy movements, and calculated his optimal responses.
Adapt. Overcome. Survive.
He pushed off the crate, muscles tensing like coiled springs. His eyes caught a glimmer of movement near the water's edge—another squad flanking them. This fight was about to get much worse.
Echo Protocol advanced methodically, each step reverberating with mechanical force. He moved like a juggernaut, but with calculated grace. His gauntlets charged again, sparks arcing between his fingers.
Dante dashed forward, utilising the shock feedback skill like a living weapon. Every punch and strike he took returned a blast of force to those around him. The mercs faltered, their confidence cracking.
Spider-Man swung beside him, weaving through the chaos, shooting webs that ensnared limbs and forced attackers to the ground.
"Dante, watch your left!" Peter warned as a huge mercenary with cybernetic arms charged.
Dante pivoted, channelling kinetic energy into his forearms. When the merc struck, the feedback blasted the attacker back like a cannonball. The merc's metal limbs sputtered and sparked.
Nearby, Daredevil executed a flawless combination of strikes, his batons a blur of destruction. He was tired, but still a relentless force—every move strategic, every hit deliberate.
Dante felt something deeper awakening inside him—an ancient drive to not just fight but to dominate. The system's whispers became clearer.
[New Trait Unlocked: Adaptive Combat Reflexes]
Combat reaction time improved by 30%. Resistance to tech-based attacks increased.
The docks echoed with the sounds of battle—grunts, crashes, the crackle of energy. Amid the chaos, Dante found a rhythm. His mind was no longer cluttered with fear or doubt but was sharp and precise.
He spotted Echo Protocol charging up for a devastating blast.
No hesitation.
Dante surged forward, dodging webs and baton strikes alike. His foot caught on a jagged piece of metal, but he recovered instantly, vaulting over a fallen crate.
As Echo Protocol fired, Dante reached out, grasping the charging orb and channelling the shock feedback skill. The orb exploded violently in his hands, energy erupting in a violent pulse that staggered the Echo Unit.
"Impossible!" the enemy growled, staggering back.
Dante didn't pause. He pressed the advantage, raining blows with unrelenting fury—each hit pushing Echo Protocol further back.
Behind him, Spider-Man called out, "We're pushing them! Keep it up!"
Daredevil was already moving to flank the enemy, throwing precise strikes at exposed joints.
Dante felt the system coursing through his veins like wildfire. This was no longer just survival. This was war.
And he was ready.