The world exploded in a searing flash of crimson light and displaced air. Lyra, still in the maintenance tunnel beneath the Ascension Transit Zone, was slammed against the metal wall, the concussive force rattling her teeth. Dust, debris, and the sharp, metallic tang of ozone filled the cramped space.
He did it. He got his weapon back.
Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat of terror and exhilarating recognition. The feeling of his touch, the searing warmth of their connection, was still a phantom burn on her arm. He was an angel of death, a monster, but he was her monster.
Then the tunnel above her groaned. The Black Cardinal's voice echoed, distorted and predatory, from the loading bay. "Lucifera claims the soul of Eden."
A section of the tunnel ceiling directly above her gave way, not with a natural collapse, but a sudden, violent implosion. Thick, shadowy appendages, like writhing serpents made of solidified darkness, burst through the gap. These were the Cardinal's Shadow Tendrils, raw demonic power manifest.
They moved with impossible speed, targeting her with chilling precision. The Shadow Tendrils coiled, reaching for her, their tips razor-sharp. She saw the malice in their movements, the hunger.
Then a crimson flash.
The world above cracked again, and the Saint dropped into the tunnel, landing with the grace of a falling star. He was a terrifying vision: a man whose silver eyes blazed with crimson light, wielding a monstrous, two-handed greatsword that hummed with a prayer of the damned: Sanctus.
He moved between her and the Shadow Tendrils, his body a solid, unyielding barrier. The sword hummed, and the nearest Tendril recoiled, hissing as if burned.
"Get back," the Saint commanded, his voice a low growl, utterly devoid of the forced restraint she had heard moments ago. This was the Executioner, fully awakened.
The Shadow Tendrils writhed, more of them bursting through the ceiling. They were relentless, fueled by the Black Cardinal's malice.
The Saint's blade moved, not with speed, but with the terrifying certainty of divine purpose: He didn't slash; he cleaved. Each strike of Sanctus left a shimmering, bloody void in the shadow, severing the demonic constructs with terrifying ease.
Lyra stared, mesmerised by the raw, brutal efficiency of his movements. He was a force of nature, a hurricane of controlled violence. And he was fighting for her.
Suddenly, the loading bay above them was bathed in searchlights. The shrill whine of rotors filled the air.
"This is Cathedra Command! Target confirmed, Fallen Angel Azael! High-Value Anomaly Lyra Cross detected! Engage lethal force on Azael, secure Anomaly!"
A new, larger threat descended. A massive, heavily armoured drone, bristling with weaponry and pulsating with celestial energy, hovered above the breached loading bay: a Cherubim Assault Drone (CAD), Seraphiel's heavy hitter.
"They're coming for us!" Lyra shouted, grabbing the Saint's arm. The touch, even in the midst of the chaos, sent a fresh jolt through them both—a painful reaffirmation of their burning connection.
"Run," the Saint snapped, his eyes still fixed on the Shadow Tendrils and the incoming CAD. "Find another exit. I will draw their fire."
"No!" Lyra retorted, her journalistic stubbornness overriding every instinct for self-preservation. "We're doing this together. I know these tunnels; I'll disable their surveillance, blind their sensors. You keep the hellspawn and the zealots off my back."
She was Lyra Cross. She was not a damsel. She was an investigator, a survivor, and she had just watched an archangel damn himself for her. She wasn't leaving.
The Saint glanced at her, a flicker of something raw and ancient in his silver eyes frustration, grudging respect. "Then stay behind me. And don't die."
He shifted his grip on Sanctus, the massive blade radiating a faint, protective heat. He was a wall of muscle and celestial steel, but he was outnumbered, outgunned, and his core still cracked with every exertion.
The CAD opened fire, its sanctified energy cannons ripping through the ceiling of the loading bay, targeting the Saint's position. The Shadow Tendrils, meanwhile, renewed their assault, more aggressive now, sensing the combined threat.
Lyra, seeing her opportunity, unleashed her drone. It streaked upward through the collapsing tunnel, targeting the nearest Cathedra security panel. She slammed her hand against a control conduit in the tunnel wall, overriding the system. "Their comms are down, drone's blinding their optical sensors! Go left, there's a weakened support beam!"
The Saint didn't question her he trusted her. He leapt, Sanctus a blur of crimson light, intercepting a volley of energy blasts with the flat of his blade, redirecting them into the Shadow Tendrils. The demonic constructs shrieked as the celestial energy tore through them.
Lyra moved, ducking beneath a collapsing pipe, keeping to the pocket of safety created by the Saint's movements. She used her knowledge of the Foundry Block's forgotten infrastructure, shouting commands, pointing out weaknesses.
They were a symphony of violence the ancient warrior and the cyberpunk survivor, fighting back-to-back against the forces of Heaven and Hell.
The Black Cardinal, from his perch, let out a low, satisfied chuckle. "So, the Saint accepts his damnation. Good. Lucifera will enjoy her new consort."
The CAD, momentarily blinded by Lyra's drone, swung wildly, its cannons tearing through a load-bearing column. The entire Ascension Transit Zone began to groan, structural integrity failing.
"The building is collapsing!" Lyra yelled, seeing the structural stress indicators on her implant. "We need to go! Now!"
The Saint, grim-faced, cleared a path with a single, sweeping arc of Sanctus, cutting through the last of the Shadow Tendrils and forcing the Aegis teams to fall back.
"Which way?" he demanded, his gaze fierce, his blade poised.
"The old wastewater tunnels," Lyra replied, pointing to a dark, narrow shaft barely visible through the dust. "It leads out past the perimeter. It's dirty, but safe from their tracking for a few miles."
The Saint didn't hesitate. He plunged into the darkness, Sanctus held high, Lyra at his heels. They were allied now, bound by blood, fire, and a shared enemy. He was the killer, and she was the reason he fought. And both Heaven and Hell would pay for trying to take her.