Chain Detonation Trigger

Max's body jerked violently as Emma's sharpened bone pierced through his chest.

For a split second, everything froze.

Then the pain hit him all at once.

A searing, white-hot agony exploded through his torso, spreading outward like wildfire. His breath caught, his entire body locking up from the shock. He barely registered the wet warmth of his own blood spilling onto the ground beneath him. His vision blurred for half a second, and then—

A violent cough ripped through his throat, spitting up blood as his lungs spasmed. His fingers twitched uncontrollably, his grip on the gun weakening.

Emma twisted her arm, preparing to drive the bone deeper—

A blur of motion.

A sharp crack.

Richard's foot slammed into the side of Emma's face, sending her flying backward. She crashed into the pavement, her mutated body skidding across the ground before coming to a stop.

Max staggered, nearly collapsing. His knees buckled, his body screaming at him to stay down. But Richard grabbed his arm, yanking him upright.

Max sucked in a shaky breath, the hole in his chest pulsing with pain.

Richard's face was twisted in worry. "Max, you okay?"

Max coughed again, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. His breathing was ragged, each inhale burning like fire. But he still smirked, wiping the blood away with the back of his hand.

"…I've seen worse," he muttered.

Richard didn't look convinced. His grip on Max's arm tightened slightly. He was still hesitating.

His eyes drifted toward Emma's mangled form in the distance. His face was pale, his fingers twitching as if they wanted to let go of everything.

"She—" Richard swallowed. His voice was shaking. "She's not herself. We can save her. We just have to—"

Max's patience snapped.

"Are you serious right now?"

Richard flinched.

Max gritted his teeth, ignoring the pain flaring up in his chest as he grabbed Richard by the collar.

"Look at me," Max growled, his voice low and furious.

Richard did.

"She's not Emma anymore," Max said, his grip tightening. "And I know you know that."

Richard's jaw clenched. "But—"

"There is no 'but.' There is no fixing this." Max's voice was sharp, cutting through Richard's hesitation. "We couldn't save her. And if you keep hesitating, you're gonna get us both killed."

Richard's breathing was uneven. His hands trembled.

Max's expression hardened.

"You think I don't get it?" Max muttered. "You think I don't see her too? You think I don't feel sick as hell looking at what she's become?"

Richard stayed silent.

Max's fingers dug into his shirt, his words coming out raw, unfiltered.

"I've had to kill people I gave a damn about, Richard," Max said, voice laced with something dangerous. "And you don't get to stand here and act like you're the only one who cares."

Richard's chest tightened.

"She's gone," Max continued, his voice hoarse but steady. "You wanna sit here and cry about it, or do you wanna survive?"

Silence.

Richard's fingers curled into fists.

He still looked torn—still looked like he wanted to argue. But deep down, he knew Max was right.

His hesitation would get them both killed.

He had to move.

He had to let go.

Emma's body twitched violently, her bones cracking as she rose to her feet once more.

Max let go of Richard's collar and took a shaky step back, wiping the blood from his mouth. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a fresh magazine and slamming it into his pistol.

"Now," Max muttered, rolling his shoulders despite the pain pulsing through his ribs, "we're doing this my way."

Richard nodded slowly.

"…Yeah."

He lit his fists ablaze.

The fight wasn't over.

Not yet.

Richard exhaled, steadying himself. His fists were engulfed in blue flames, the glow flickering unsteadily like a dying candle. His body was tense, his stomach twisting itself into knots. Emma—no, whatever was left of her—stood across from them, her bones shifting unnaturally beneath her skin, jagged and sharp, sticking out of her arms like twisted blades. Her hollow eyes bore into them, devoid of all recognition.

She was watching them. Waiting.

Max stood beside Richard, his breath shallow but controlled. He adjusted his grip on the gun, a faint blue aura flickering around him.

Richard could feel it.

Max had activated his ability.

Chain Reaction.

Richard still didn't fully understand how it worked, but he knew one thing—Max's power didn't make him stronger or faster. It didn't give him supernatural strength like Richard's flames. But it made him dangerous.

"Here's the plan," Max said, not taking his eyes off Emma. "You go in first. Keep her attention. I'll set up the rest."

Richard hesitated. His fists clenched.

He could still see it.

Emma's face.

The way she used to smile. The way she used to laugh. The way she used to—

Emma lurched forward.

Richard barely had time to react before she was right in front of him.

His body moved on instinct, ducking just in time to avoid the sharpened bone that would've pierced through his skull. His heart slammed against his ribcage, adrenaline flooding his veins. Emma swung again, this time lower, her bone-sword slicing through the air with a sharp whistle.

Richard dodged—barely. The tip of the bone scraped against his arm, drawing a thin line of blood.

He hesitated.

Just for a second.

And that second was enough.

Emma's leg shot forward, her knee slamming into his stomach. Richard gasped, the impact forcing the air from his lungs. His body folded over, and before he could recover—

She grabbed him.

Her fingers dug into his shoulder, her grip inhumanly strong. She lifted him off his feet and hurled him across the pavement.

Richard hit the ground hard. The world spun for a second, his vision blurred. His instincts screamed at him to get up, to move, but his body felt slow.

He barely managed to push himself up when he saw it—

Emma, charging straight for him, bone-blades raised.

He was too slow.

The second before she could reach him—

BANG.

A gunshot echoed through the ground.

Emma jerked to the side, her momentum thrown off as the bullet grazed her shoulder. She hissed, twisting unnaturally as she turned her head toward Max.

Max smirked.

"That's one," he muttered.

Emma snarled, about to lunge at him—

And then it happened.

The ground beneath her foot shifted.

A tiny force, almost invisible, nudged her forward just an inch—just enough for her to lose her balance.

Max had set a trigger.

A Redirection Trigger.

Before she could recover, another force shoved her sideways, sending her off-course.

Another trigger.

Max was controlling the battlefield.

Richard's eyes widened.

Emma staggered, off-balance for the first time. It wasn't much—but it was enough.

Richard moved.

This time, he didn't hesitate.

His fist ignited, blue flames roaring to life as he rushed forward.

Emma barely had time to react before Richard's flaming punch connected with her jaw.

The impact sent shockwaves through his arm. Emma was knocked backward, skidding across the ground, her bones scraping against the pavement.

But she wasn't done.

She twisted her body mid-fall, using the momentum to launch herself right back at Richard.

Richard's chest tightened—he wasn't ready for a counterattack—

And then, right before Emma could reach him—

Her foot slipped.

Richard blinked.

That wasn't an accident.

Max had set another trigger.

Another Redirection Trigger.

And it had forced her weight to shift just slightly—enough to open her up.

Max didn't waste a second.

BANG.

A second gunshot. This time, the bullet hit its mark—Emma's leg.

She screamed, her movement staggering.

"Richard! Now!" Max shouted.

Richard clenched his fists, hesitated for half a second—

Then charged forward.

His fist connected with Emma's stomach, sending her crashing into the ground.

But she still wasn't going down.

She twitched violently, her body contorting in ways it shouldn't. The bone-blades on her arms elongated, her form twisting into something even worse.

Richard's stomach churned.

How much more could she change?

Max exhaled. His blue aura flickered again.

"Alright," Max muttered. "I think I've got enough set up."

Richard glanced at him. "What are you—"

Then, he felt it.

A shift in the air.

Max had been placing triggers this entire time.

Not just small ones—but an entire sequence.

Chain Detonation Trigger.

Max smirked.

"Let's end this."

The moment Max fired, everything clicked into place.

Emma's head snapped back, the bullet ripping through her skull, but that wasn't the real finisher.

Max had set up something bigger.

The Chain Detonation Trigger activated.

The ground beneath Emma shifted violently, a force pushing her off balance.

Then—another trigger.

A second force jerked her body to the side, making her stumble straight into another invisible mark.

This time, the trigger activated under her foot.

A surge of kinetic energy launched her backward, throwing her into the air.

For a split second—she was helpless.

Richard, barely standing, watched as Emma's body was forcibly maneuvered into position, like she was caught in an invisible web.

Max had set up everything.

She wasn't falling.

She was being dragged.

Right into his final shot.

Max pulled the trigger.

The bullet hit dead center.

Boom.

The energy inside detonated, a wave of pure spiritual force surging through Emma's entire body.

Her mutated limbs convulsed, twitching violently as the blast tore through whatever was left of her humanity.

Richard watched, unable to look away.

Emma's body hit the ground.

Twitching.

Convulsing.

Then—

It stopped.

Everything stopped.

Richard's hands were shaking.

Max exhaled slowly, his pistol still raised. His fingers trembled slightly, the strain of using his ability and fighting with a hole in his chest finally catching up to him.

Neither of them spoke.

Then—

Thud.

Max collapsed.

Richard barely had time to process before his own legs gave out.

His vision blurred.

The world faded.

Then—

Click.

The sound of two guns being cocked.

Richard's eyes fluttered open slightly.

Two figures stood at the edge of the scene.

Darren Pierce.

And Henry Calloway.

Both officers had their pistols raised, aimed directly at them.

Darren's hands shook. His eyes darted between Max, Richard, and the corpse of whatever was left of Emma.

The sheer carnage—the scorched pavement, the bloodied bodies, the unnatural corpse—it was too much.

His voice barely came out.

"What the fuck..."

Calloway, however—

His face was rigid. Cold. Unreadable.

His finger rested on the trigger.

His voice, steady.

"…Drop your weapons."

Neither Richard nor Max could respond.

They were already unconscious.