The Vault Heist

"Menis, are you sure this is the way to the vault?" Mirak asked, his voice low and tense as they navigated the labyrinth of tunnels beneath the city. Each step echoed faintly, swallowed by the oppressive silence of the underground passages. The faint scent of damp stone and mildew clung to the humid air, mixing with the metallic tang of resin residue embedded in the walls.

Menis clicked his tongue in mild irritation, the faint sound amplified by the otherwise still environment. A swarm of insects skittered across his shoulders and down his arms, their tiny legs clicking softly as they darted ahead to scout the path. The arachnid appendages sprouting from his back twitched, pointing down the tunnel to their right.

"It's the direction Lancelot gave us," Menis replied with a shrug, though there was a glint of unease in his multi-faceted gaze. "I don't see why you're doubting me now. Unless, of course, you've got a better plan?"

"I wouldn't call this a plan," Mirak muttered. His free hand formed a small system, a shimmering ball of faint light flickering into existence between his fingers. The sphere cast a dim glow, illuminating the jagged walls and dripping stalactites around them.

It wasn't much, but it was better than fumbling through pitch-black corridors. Mirak focused on maintaining the delicate balance within the system, channeling energy from the cool stone and humid air around them to sustain the glow. "I hope you're right. If we surface in the wrong place, the entire job could be compromised."

Behind them, the grotesque bulk of Damion thudded along the path, the sound of his weight a steady, unsettling rhythm. The hulking Anntom-shifted beast was a grotesque amalgamation of bone, muscle, and crimson flesh, every movement accompanied by the wet scrape of its unnatural anatomy shifting against itself.

"He's ready, isn't he?" Mirak asked, glancing back at the monstrosity.

Menis patted Damion's plated arm, his grin widening. "Oh, he's ready. Damion could crush a grown man with one hand. A wall? That's nothing. He'll rip through it like it's parchment."

"Good," Mirak replied, though he didn't sound entirely convinced. His gaze flicked toward the ceiling as if imagining the bank above, the guards who might already be converging on their position, and the vault door that surely awaited them. "Because if I have to use Atta to break through, I'll be unconscious on the floor. There's no room for error here."

Menis laughed, his voice echoing down the tunnel. "A little confidence wouldn't kill you, Mirak. I mean, sure, you'd probably keel over if you tried, but that's why I'm here. And Damion, of course."

Mirak shot him a flat look but held his tongue. He couldn't afford to let his irritation distract him. "You should never say something is going to be easy. That's just asking for trouble."

Menis's grin didn't falter as he rolled his shoulders, his arachnid appendages stretching and snapping into place with a sound like snapping twigs. "Maybe, but where's the fun without a little risk? Now let's get this done. Damion, start us off."

Damion roared—a guttural, primal sound that reverberated through the tunnel. With a bone-crunching impact, his hammer-like fists slammed into the ceiling above. Cracks spiderwebbed outward, and chunks of stone rained down around them. Mirak crouched low, shielding his head with one arm as a gaping hole formed above them, revealing the dimly lit interior of the bank.

"Jump," Menis commanded, and Damion wasted no time. With a deafening crash, the hulking Anntom leaped through the opening, tearing into the bank above like a living wrecking ball. Screams erupted as guards and staff scrambled for cover.

Mirak followed close behind, pulling Atta from the air around him in a visible swirl of energy. The humid atmosphere shifted as the Atta condensed into a dense, silvery mist that clung to the bank like an otherworldly fog. The mist wasn't just for show—it expanded outward, filling the room and clinging to every surface, giving Mirak a mental map of the bank's layout. He could see everything: the vault, the scattering guards, and even the faint tremors of approaching reinforcements.

Sweat dripped down Mirak's temple as he struggled to maintain the mist's reach. His lips parted, exhaling faint streams of steam into the frigid air. He couldn't afford to falter now—not when the job was just beginning.

"Best plunder what we can and make it quick," Menis said, pulling up his hood and masking his face. His arachnid legs twitched with excitement. "Feel that? My heart's racing. There's nothing like this rush."

Mirak didn't respond. His focus was on the chaos unfolding around them. Damion was a storm of destruction, his massive claws rending through guards and barricades alike. Spears splintered against his bone armor, and his grotesque maw tore into anything foolish enough to get close. The air was thick with the smell of blood and resin.

More guards rushed in, their shouts drowned out by the clash of steel and the roar of Damion's rage. Mirak flung a concentrated burst of Atta, slicing the ground between the guards to force them back. Menis darted forward, his appendages lashing out like spears, piercing armor and flesh with terrifying precision.

The carnage was almost too much. Mirak felt his stomach churn, but he pushed it aside. This was no time for hesitation.

Then the skylight above shattered.

Winged figures descended, their weapons glinting in the dim light. The Saki. Their Harmony-infused blades sang through the air, aiming to cut down the Revenant where they stood.

"Shit!" Mirak hissed, pulling Menis back before a blade could slice him in half. "We need to move. Now."

But Menis only laughed, his eyes alight with a wild gleam. "This—this is what I wanted. A real fight! I feel alive!" His arachnid appendages lashed out, impaling a descending Saki mid-flight and dragging the writhing body to the ground.

"Focus, Menis!" Mirak snapped, but his voice was drowned out by the clash of metal and the Saki's war cries.

Damion barreled into the fray, his bone-plated bulk slamming into the winged warriors with brutal force. Blood sprayed as his claws tore through their ranks, but for every Saki he felled, more descended through the broken skylight.

"This way!" Mirak shouted, motioning to a set of heavy doors on the far side of the bank. "The vault's down there!"

Menis hesitated, his bloodlust warring with his better judgment. Finally, he whistled sharply. "Damion! To the door!"

The Anntom beast roared in acknowledgment, charging ahead with bone-shattering force. The heavy metal doors crumpled under his assault, revealing a spiral staircase leading to the vault below.

Mirak and Menis followed, fighting off the remaining guards as they descended. But their relief was short-lived. At the base of the stairs stood three figures clad in dark, simple armor. Their capes billowed slightly, and their gauntleted fists glinted with embedded resin shards.

Mirak froze, his heart sinking. "The Nall."

The enforcers moved with deliberate, predatory grace. Unlike the guards above, they carried no weapons, but the resin embedded in their gauntlets sparked ominously.

"Shit," Mirak muttered. He raised his hand, willing Atta to form a protective shield—but his body betrayed him. His muscles spasmed, and his vision blurred. He had overexerted himself, and the mist still demanded too much energy.

One of the Nall lunged, its gauntleted fist aimed directly at Mirak's skull. He barely managed to raise an Atta shield in time, but the impact sent him staggering, his knees buckling under the force.

Menis leapt into action, his pincers striking at the Nall's exposed joints. But the enforcer moved with uncanny speed, dodging the attack and retaliating with a crushing blow that shattered one of Menis's arachnid legs.

Damion charged, his massive bulk slamming into another Nall. The two clashed, bone against resin, and cracks spiderwebbed across Damion's armor. Mirak's warning rang in his mind: Avoid being hit at all costs.