The air in the cavern, already thick with sulfurous heat and the dust of molecular decay, exploded with sound and kinetic energy.
Marcus Thorne, his face contorted in a mask of manic desperation, didn't wait. The Void-Relic Cannon in his hand—a bulky, asymmetrical weapon pulsing with sickly green light—was a terrifying piece of illegal weaponry. It wasn't designed for killing, but for destabilizing massive structures. His first shot didn't aim at Kwandezi or Aisha; it aimed at the cavern ceiling.
A wave of concentrated sonic energy, amplified by the cannon's Void-relic core, slammed into the Tungsten-Rutile rock twenty meters above them. The rock didn't shatter; it liquefied instantly, turning into a steaming slurry that began to cascade down. Thorne's goal was clear: bury them and secure his escape with the briefcase.
"Ceiling collapse! Thorne is sacrificing the site!" Aisha screamed, her voice a sharp alarm through the comms. Her Specialist Aegis Suit immediately deployed a kinetic brace, rooting her feet to the ground. She raised her Plasma Railgun, firing a precise, high-heat burst at Thorne's legs.
Kwandezi was faster. The twin lines of Void-tempered steel were already in motion, flashing toward Thorne. But he wasn't attacking the traitor yet; his immediate threat was the collapsing roof.
He used his power for defense. With a guttural surge of focus that momentarily intensified the purple glow in his eyes, Kwandezi thrust his left hand up toward the falling slurry. He performed a rapid, minute calculation of the material's composition and moisture content.
"Integrate," he commanded, the whisper of the word vibrating only in his own mind.
The falling rock slurry—a destructive mix of tungsten, silicon, and steam—didn't stop. Instead, the molecular bonds within the deluge were suddenly, violently re-engineered. Tungsten and silicon separated from the steam, the falling mass instantly transmuting into dense, inert blocks of graphite and iron. The iron hardened in mid-air, forming a perfect, temporary archway that stopped the cascade, diverting the molten rock to either side of the cavern.
The effort drained him. The Void Host roared in triumph, relishing the sheer, massive power required. You play with the building blocks of reality, Host. Why stop at a simple shield?
The distraction was what Thorne needed. He sidestepped Aisha's plasma blast, the high-heat energy searing the rock where he'd been a moment before. He laughed—a brittle, hysterical sound—and focused the Void-Relic Cannon directly on Kwandezi.
"The Banisher brat with the freak power! You're what killed your own family!" Thorne yelled, hatred blazing in his eyes.
The cannon fired a direct pulse of green energy. It was not a physical blast, but a destructive Void frequency designed to shred matter at the quantum level—a crude, unstable mimicry of Kwandezi's own power.
Kwandezi didn't dodge. He knew the twin daggers were faster than his boots. He crossed his blades in front of him, the Void-tempered steel his only defense. The moment the green frequency struck the purple-tinged steel, the air crackled. Kwandezi's own Molecular Transmutation Field reacted instinctively, channeling the incoming destructive frequency and collapsing it into harmless residual heat. The force of the impact was still tremendous; Kwandezi was blasted backward, slamming hard into the cavern wall.
Aisha saw her opening. "Kwandezi, suppression!" she yelled. "I've got the flank!"
She opened fire with her Plasma Railgun again, now aiming for the joints in Thorne's Storm-Walker Aegis Suit. The suit, unlike the heavy Ironclad or specialized Specialist models, was designed for rapid mobility and close-quarters infantry combat, meaning its leg joints were slightly less armored. Her plasma charges struck true, causing Thorne's left knee to sizzle and smoke, briefly overloading his internal Synch Rate regulators.
Thorne roared in pain, momentarily distracted. He was skilled, a General of the VDC, but he was human, and he was wounded.
This was Kwandezi's window. He used the remaining kinetic energy of his recoil, pushing himself off the wall and closing the distance in a single, impossible blur. His movements were fluid, devoid of human hesitation—a terrifying blend of martial discipline and the Void Host's relentless speed.
Kwandezi didn't rely on brute transmutation. He relied on precision.
He was a hurricane of twin blades, the first blade held in his Right Hand Sliced low, targeting the feed cables running into Thorne's cannon. The Void-tempered steel cut through the thick polymer and micro-wires cleanly. While the second Blade Sliced high, aiming for the neck joint of the Storm-Walker Aegis Suit, where the helmet met the torso.
Thorne reacted with the training of a general, dropping the now useless cannon and attempting to engage his built-in kinetic repulsors to push Kwandezi back. But he was too slow.
The second sword struck. Not with force, but with a micro-pulse of molecular chaos. Kwandezi didn't try to cut the armor; he transmuted a fraction of the titanium alloy in the joint into brittle silicon. The blade then slid through the now-weakened structure as if cutting paper.
Thorne staggered, a sickening hiss of escaping compressed air coming from the neck of his armor. The suit's life support systems immediately failed. He grabbed Kwandezi's arms in a desperate, final attempt to crush him.
Their faces were inches apart. Kwandezi saw the rage and fear in Thorne's eyes, but he also saw something deeper—a flash of recognition and pain.
"Your mother... it was necessary. She threatened the… the Veil Order!" Thorne spat, foam flecking his lips.
"You killed her because she tried to expose the corruption," Kwandezi growled, his voice a low, terrifying vibration that echoed the Void Host's power. "You killed her because my family wanted to silence her. You were the executioner."
He twisted the blade in Thorne's suit joint. The traitor's hands went limp, his grip loosening on Kwandezi's specialized armor. Thorne's eyes rolled up, his final, desperate gasp echoing in the contained silence of his broken suit. Kwandezi gave a final, clean thrust, ensuring the man who had ordered his mother's death was now simply inert matter.
Thorne collapsed in a heavy heap of specialized armor and dead flesh. He was gone.
A sudden, jarring shift occurred. With Thorne's death, the lingering Void energy that had been fueling the Geo-Parasite was cut off. The giant crystalline monster, weakened by Kwandezi's earlier molecular frequency attack, suddenly accelerated its disassembly. With a violent, grinding groan, the massive creature completely collapsed, transmuting itself into a gigantic mound of harmless dust and minerals, scattering across the floor. The crisis was averted.
Aisha ran to Kwandezi, her Aegis Suit clanking on the rock floor. She scanned his vitals with her gauntlet. "Kwandezi! Your Synch Rate hit 75%! You pushed the Transmutation limit too close to the Null-Kinetic threshold! But... you did it. Thorne is dead, the Geo-Parasite is neutralized."
Kwandezi ignored her. He stood over Thorne's body, the briefcase still secured by its Void-sealed lock beside the corpse. He felt a vast, echoing emptiness, not the satisfying release of vengeance, but the dull, sickening ache of a promise fulfilled without joy. He had his revenge, and it changed nothing. The hate was still there, vast and cold.
The architect is dead, Host. But the house still stands, the Void Host noted, utterly indifferent. The true targets remain.
Kwandezi knelt down and violently ripped the Storm-Walker insignia patch from Thorne's inert Aegis Suit. The insignia showed a stylized bolt of lightning, the symbol of the military-focused family. Kwandezi tucked it into a small pouch in his combat mesh. A trophy, a reminder.
He looked at Aisha, his eyes cold and utterly devoid of emotion. "The mission is complete, Anchor. Tell the Ironclad Captain her site is stable. And inform the Capital that Marcus Thorne is neutralized."
Aisha stared at the insignia in her hand, then at the dead General. "You took no joy in this," she whispered, her empathic senses confirming the devastating truth: the rage was gone, replaced by profound, cold emptiness.
"Joy is inefficient," Kwandezi replied, his voice a monotone echo of the Void Host's logic. "Now, we get paid for the kill. We have a Chapter Captain to report to, and more thieves to expose."
He didn't wait. He walked toward the ventilation shaft, leaving the dead General and the mountain of crystalline dust behind. Aisha hesitated for a moment, then snatched up Thorne's locked briefcase—it held the proof of his crimes, and perhaps the key to the Veil's deepest secrets. She activated her comms, relaying the clinical report to the waiting Captain Zara, knowing full well the political fallout was only just beginning.
Kwandezi was a weapon, and now he had tasted blood. He was officially a part of the war, and the system he hated would use him until he broke or until he destroyed them all.