Ch101: The Swarm Awakens

Mira stood atop a broken stack of crates, scanning the far end of the docks where torches flickered like stars in the distance. The sound of hurried footsteps echoed off the stone pathways, and she could already count at least thirty more approaching.

"More are coming," she muttered, shaking off the ache in her knuckles from her last fight.

Kael, standing beside her, wiped a streak of blood off his cheek. His breath was calm, measured—not the breathing of someone who had just cut down half a dozen men.

"Then let the blood rain," he said, pulling out a control panel from his coat.

With a press of a button, a deep mechanical click echoed through the air.

A second later, the night was filled with the whirring buzz of countless small drones.

From the darkened alleys, the rooftops, and the corners of the abandoned buildings, they emerged like a metal swarm, their small rotors slicing through the still air. Each drone, no bigger than a man's palm, carried its own deadly payload—some with small thermal-charge grenades, others with sawblades designed to shred through armor and flesh.

Mira smirked. "You've been busy."

Kael gave her a glance, his fingers tapping across the panel. "I prefer to be prepared."

The first wave of mercenaries barely had time to react.

At the edge of the docks, the first group of reinforcements—hardened fighters with mismatched gear—charged forward, weapons ready. They had heard the earlier gunfire, the screams, the explosions. They expected a fight.

What they didn't expect was a horde of drones descending upon them.

The first drone struck with brutal precision—a sawblade drone cutting through the exposed throat of a mercenary, arterial blood spraying across the cobblestones.

The second group of drones unleashed small thermal grenades, detonating in bursts of fire and concussive force.

Men screamed as flames clung to their bodies, their armor heating rapidly, cooking them alive.

Panic erupted among the remaining mercenaries. Some tried to shoot the drones down, firing wildly into the air. Others turned to flee, only to be cut down by Mira, who lunged from the shadows like a wraith, her gauntlets breaking bones with every strike.

One soldier, more composed than the others, tried to regroup his men. "GET TO COVER! FALL BACK—"

His words were cut short as a drone, armed with a high-speed rotary blade, sliced through his shoulder, nearly severing his arm. He collapsed, shrieking in agony.

Kael watched from his elevated position, his eyes scanning the carnage.

"They expected resistance," he murmured. "Not slaughter."

Mira grinned, wiping sweat from her forehead. "You really do have a talent for making things... messy."

Kael didn't answer. Instead, he pressed another button.

From the edges of the battlefield, the second wave of drones activated.

The mercenaries weren't entirely incompetent.

Some of them had prepared for mechanical threats.

A few, realizing that the drones operated in low formations, quickly lit smoke bombs, creating a thick cover that messed with the drone's targeting.

Others, clearly veterans of previous wars, used net launchers—specialized tools meant for taking down cavalry, but just as effective against flying machines.

One by one, a handful of drones were caught mid-flight, crashing to the ground, their blades snapping on impact.

Kael narrowed his eyes. "They're adapting."

Mira wiped some blood off her lip. "Good. I was getting bored."

Through the shifting smoke, the real threat emerged—three armored figures, each one covered in reinforced plating, their helmets obscuring their faces.

They didn't move like common mercenaries.

"Special forces," Kael muttered.

Mira exhaled sharply. "That complicates things."

These weren't rookies sent to test the waters.

They were executioners.

The Heavies Engage

The lead figure, his armor lined with thick plating reinforced by some kind of exo-support system, raised a massive chain axe.

With a roar, he charged through the smoke, ignoring the drones, swinging his weapon toward Mira.

She barely dodged, rolling to the side as the axe smashed into the ground, shattering the stone beneath it.

"Big guy," she muttered.

Kael didn't wait.

His hand shot toward his belt, retrieving a small canister, tossing it toward the second armored figure.

The moment the canister hit the ground, a white-hot burst of phosphorus ignited, sending flames cascading over the enemy's armor.

The soldier stumbled back, blinded, clawing at his visor.

Mira took her chance, lunging forward.

A sharp CRACK echoed as her gauntlet connected with his exposed joint, dislocating his shoulder.

The third figure, moving with unsettling speed, drew a sidearm—a compact, high-caliber firearm.

Kael reacted instantly.

He yanked a metal rod from his belt—a collapsible, electrically charged baton.

With a flick, the baton extended, and Kael slammed it into the gunman's wrist.

The weapon fired, but the shot went wide—slamming into the warehouse wall instead of Mira's head.

Kael followed up, sweeping the baton low, catching the soldier in the knee. The man stumbled, but didn't fall.

"Damn it," Kael muttered. "They're tough."

The first armored figure, the one with the chain axe, had had enough.

He charged again, his movements more precise, adjusting to Mira's speed.

This time, he feinted left, then twisted his body, bringing the axe downward at an angle.

Mira barely managed to block, crossing her gauntlets above her head.

The impact sent her skidding backward, her boots carving lines into the ground.

Kael took a step forward—but stopped.

Mira grinned.

She had expected this.

The moment her boots stopped skidding, she launched herself forward.

Before the armored soldier could recover, Mira dropped low, driving a reinforced knee into the side of his leg, where the armor was weakest.

The man bellowed, losing his balance—just as Mira's gauntleted fist slammed into his helmet.

The force of the blow sent a shockwave through his skull, cracking the visor.

He toppled backward, unconscious before he hit the ground.

The second armored soldier, still partially blinded, tried to raise his weapon—but Kael was already there.

A precise blade through the visor slit.

No scream. Just a body falling limp.

The final soldier, now alone, hesitated.

Kael stepped forward, his bloodied baton resting against his shoulder.

"Your move," he said coldly.

The man dropped his weapon and ran.

Mira exhaled, rolling her shoulders. "So... how many more waves do you think we've got?"

Kael looked at the burning battlefield, the scattered corpses, the remaining drones hovering above.

"A few."

Mira grinned.

"Good."