Back beneath the lab, the lower halls lay stripped of life.
No alarms. No voices.Just cold concrete, steel lights humming overhead, and the smell of smoke that never quite faded down here.
Inferno stood at one end of the corridor.
Warrior Girl stood at the other.
She held her shield forward, arm locked, sword angled low but ready — a disciplined stance drilled into her bones by years of training. Her boots were planted wide, knees bent, shoulders tight. She didn't blink. Didn't breathe too loudly. Every instinct she had was screaming at her that the man in front of her was death wearing a cape.
But skill mattered . Skill had to matter.
Inferno took one slow step forward.
His cape swayed behind him like a living thing, brushing the floor. His hands hung loose at his sides, relaxed — not careless, just confident. His eyes moved over her stance with surgical calm, measuring angles, weight distribution, and timing.
He was already deciding where to hit.
His jaw tightened. Just a fraction.
"So be it," he muttered.
Then—
BOOM.
The air cracked.
Inferno vanished in a shockwave, moving at the edge of sound itself, the floor spiderwebbing beneath his launch. Warrior Girl reacted on instinct alone. She twisted sideways, shield snapping up just as his arm lashed out for her face.
Metal screamed.
Her shield smashed into his cheek with everything she had.
Inferno flew backward, skidding across the floor, cape tangling beneath him as he slammed into the far wall. The impact thundered through the hall. Dust rained from the ceiling.
For a heartbeat — silence.
Then Inferno pushed himself up, one knee down, one hand pressed to his face.
He pulled his fingers away.
Red.
A thin smear of blood across his knuckles.
Warrior Girl's chest heaved. Her grip tightened on her sword as they circled each other, boots scraping slowly, eyes locked. Fear coiled tight in her stomach — but beneath it, something sharper.
Hope.
"Why?" she demanded, her voice raw as she pointed the blade toward Strike's motionless body. "Why did you kill him?"
Inferno's expression darkened. His fingers curled into fists, heat rippling faintly off his skin.
"I didn't kill him," he growled, glancing back at Strike. "He's still alive."
Her breath hitched.
"What… what the f— are you talking about?" she snapped. "You burst his brains out. You're a f-—ing psychopath!"
Inferno laughed.
A low, humorless sound.
"Well, am I?" He gestured to himself, blood still on his cheek. "Remember who you're threatening. I'm the one who saved this world from that f-—ing asteroid. I'm the one who locked up General Pike. I lifted a skyscraper with my bare hands."
He stepped closer with every word.
"I'm the one standing up to the millions who want to control us. I built this team. I trained you — trained all of you. And the second I do one hard thing, you turn on me?"
Warrior Girl didn't back away.
Her voice dropped, quieter — deadlier.
"Your leadership," she said, pointing at Strike without looking, "is shitty. This has always been about you. You never told us why you formed this team. And even if you had, it wouldn't justify treating us like dogs. Like property."
She took another step closer.
"You're just like them," she whispered. "Like the government."
Inferno's chin lifted.
His eyes flared — molten red.
Flames erupted across his body without warning, heat blasting down the corridor. He swung.
A killing right hook.
Warrior Girl barely got her shield up in time. The impact rang like a bell, sending her skidding backward, boots screeching. She countered instantly, sword arcing down.
Inferno slipped aside and jabbed her face.
Her head snapped back. Blood sprayed across the floor.
Before she could recover, his fist slammed into her ribs — too fast, too precise. She staggered, a wet sound tearing from her lungs as blood dripped from her lip to her chin.
She roared and shoved him off, swinging her sword in a blur. Inferno stumbled — just enough.
She surged forward, leaping, raining blows in a desperate storm. Steel struck flesh. Again. Again. His face. His stomach. His ribs.
Then Inferno caught the blade.
His forehead slammed into her face.
Her nose broke with a sickening crack. Her body went slack, spine hitting the wall, vision dissolving into white noise.
Inferno smiled.
He punched her again.
She collapsed. The sword slipped from her fingers, clattering uselessly across the floor. She reached for it — but her body screamed in protest, refusing to move.
Inferno bent, picked it up.
Turned it slowly, reverently.
"Hm," he murmured. "Sharp."
Then he drove it through her hand.
Her scream tore through the hall. Her fist smashed into the floor, leg jerking violently as pain detonated up her arm. She glared at him through tears and blood.
"You… you're a monster!"
Inferno scoffed, yanking the blade free and tossing it aside.
"That's the thing about you, Amy," he said calmly. "You're so f-—ing predictable."
He turned away, brushing dust and blood from Strike's body.
"You lost."
"No," she snarled.
She forced herself up, wounded hand curling uselessly as she lunged. She grabbed his cape, spun him, and punched him square in the face.
Inferno staggered — surprised.
She didn't stop.
A jab. Another. An uppercut.
She stepped back and roundhouse kicked his head, slamming him into the wall.
Inferno shook it off, impressed.
Then he stopped holding back.
He launched at her, fists blazing, attacks coming faster and faster. She blocked — barely — shield ringing, arms numbing, feet sliding.
And then—
Footsteps.
A voice.
"Well, well," a calm tone said. "What do we have here?"
A kid stepped into the hall.
Black pants. White undershirt. Black tux jacket. Tie straight despite the chaos. He glanced at Strike's body, disturbed.
"Did you do this?"
Inferno lowered his fist, eyes narrowing as he approached.
"What's a kid like you doing here?" he asked coldly. "Lose your f-—ing mommy?"
The kid swallowed, shoulders shaking — but he smiled anyway.
"Wow," he said softly. "Quite the mouth. You always talk like that when you're cornered?"
Inferno growled and grabbed him, lifting him off the ground.
The kid's legs dangled.
"That's not a good idea," the kid said, fear flickering now. "Especially since I'm the new media man."
Inferno froze.
Warrior Girl stepped closer, nodding. "He's telling the truth."
Inferno released him.
"…And if I don't leave?" Inferno asked.
The kid stepped closer, voice low.
"I expose you. Everything. And the world stops loving you."
Inferno closed his eyes.
Then walked away.
"Andrew," the kid called.
Inferno stopped — fists shaking.
And for the first time in his life, he realized something terrifying:
He was still a hero.
But now?
He was under control.
ns216.73.216.33da2
and then Add to home screen.