The Chokepoint

Roa's fist crashed down with the force of a sledgehammer, the crunch of the impact echoing through the cavern as the last Shadow crumpled to the ground, lifeless. He straightened, chest heaving, his knuckles dripping wet in the darkness. Around him, his friends leaned against jagged walls and knelt on the ground, their shoulders rising and falling as they caught their breaths. The cavern was a grim battlefield, its rocky floor strewn with the twisted, unmoving forms of their enemies.

"I'm glad you guys showed up, after all. There's no way we could have made it without your help. How the hell did you heal so fast?" asked Rosso, heaving, patting Roa on the back.

"I'm still not at one-hundred percent, but more of Tanoò's friends showed up. They offered to deplete their energies, transferring them to get me back on my feet."

A faint metallic clang reverberated through the air, followed by a deafening boom. Armored doors slid shut in the tunnel ahead, one by one, sealing off the way forward.

"Thero..." said the boy with a heavy breath, his hands on his knees.

The metal ball floated towards the interface to hack it.

"Negative. They have shut down the power. I cannot get in," explained the robot.

Theya pulled up, covered in sweat. Placing her hand on the interface, she began to transfer her aura into it, lighting it up.

"I don't know how much more juice I got, but this should do it," she said.

"Prepare the weapon," said a deep, calm voice from a speaker nearby, as flashing lights went off, alerting the heroes.

"That can't be good," the Jumpers looked around nervously, as the ground shook.

"Open sesame," said the robot, as the doors slid open, one by one, revealing the entrance to the final chamber.

"Ardor's Forge—the chokepoint," said Rosso, looking around.

The place was an immense, rounded room of the Palace. The light was dim and the air was cold. Along the curved walls, a web of industrial veins climbed and twisted—tubes snaking upward, smokestacks standing sentinel, and machinery groaning faintly, as if alive. At the center lay an enormous, perfectly-round well, its surface stretching wide like an eerie, motionless, black sea. The edges gleamed faintly in the muted light, as though daring anyone to peer into its depths.

"This must be Lord Smog's personal stash of black gold," Vesper said, shaking his head in disgust.

"The runoff to Tar Lake and the Palace rooms below must all be coming from here," pointed out Rosso.

"There, in the middle—there's a tall oil platform. The Gate is probably in there, hiding," C-Saw added.

"Let's go pay the coward a visit," said Roa with a grin.

"Release the weapon! They must not get any closer," shouted the same voice from the intercom. "Prepare defensive maneuvers. Nobody gets out of here—alive!"

A deafening clank echoed. They flinched, shoulders tensing as their wide eyes snapped toward the sound. In the distance, a multitude of giant locks unlatched, one by one. Two towering doors, as tall as the colossal room itself, began to shudder forward. Enormous gears churned, grinding against one another as they traced the threaded grooves on the ground, dragging the immense metal hatches open with a deep, resonant growl.

"If that's where his weapon is—we're in big trouble," said Rosso.

"You are all going to pay for what you have done—to me and the other Heavenly Ones. I told you this moment would come," said the oligarch, defiant until the end.

Vesper pulled the blindfold off him, shaking him.

"Talk! What's in there?"

The noble's grin grew wide.

"The Abomination. Its name is Lothrah—a being that was formed from the depths of the Black Abyss—the very spirit of the black gold that made us rich."

"A Kami?" said Roa, turning to him.

"Yes—but not one born of Nature. One born from the actions of Humanity," he said, as the smug look on his face pierced Roa's soul.

"How do we defeat it?" his fist clenched tight.

"You can't," he said as he let out a loud laugh. "None of you will get out of here alive."

A piercing screech shattered the air, sending the group jolting in alarm. In the distance, something of colossal size slammed against the giant, metal doors, each thunderous impact rattling the ground beneath their feet.

"Thero."

"Yes, Roa."

"I need you to go as fast as you can and try to stop those doors from opening."

Hundreds of locals crowded behind them, their numbers stretching into the dim distance. The fire in their eyes, once fierce, began to waver, flickering into unease with each echoing sound. The people clung to their weapons—baseball bats clenched with white-knuckled grips, crowbars glinting in the faint light, firearms trembling in unsteady hands, and even splintered furniture held tight as nervous makeshift defenses.

Stolen novel; please report.

"Fulvix, you and your friends will focus on remaining law enforcement. We will try to take on whatever is coming out from there," instructed the Sunflower.

The exhausted Jumpers blasted away in the direction of the platform using Pan's Gift, or in Roa's and Rosso's case, holding on for dear life onto the magic iron their teacher had gifted them.

"We are going to need to learn to fly, eventually," screamed the desert man, shaking his head.

The group froze midair, their momentum halting as five Shadows emerged before them. Each wore a mask etched with a distinct expression—stoic, scared, snarling, weeping, and blank. Across their foreheads, numbers marked them, one through five.

"Be careful, these are not like the others. Their auras are big," explained Vesper, holding on to the oligarch by the belt.

"They're the Gate's elite guard. It's over for you terrorists," the captive laughed, squirming as he called for help. "I am a Heavenly Noble. I've been kidnapped by these criminals. I order you to kill them all and save me!"

The five foes vanished like smoke in the wind. The Jumpers' eyes darted around, unable to follow their aerial movements.

"Let's go—to the top of the platform! We are at a disadvantage here," shouted Roa, blasting forward.

The Shadows came into view behind them, hot on their trails as blasts of light zipped past them. The boy turned his head when he heard a groan.

"Chainsaw!" he called out, as C-Saw's body fell into the oil below with a splash.

"Take this idiot with you," Vesper launched the oligarch towards Theya, who caught him as they landed onto the oil rig, rolling on the flat roof several times from the momentum.

The old man vanished, blurring above as he took on two of the Gate's men, Madame Waters joining the fray in the skies soon after.

"I got her," Tanoò screamed as he floated, holding C-Saw upside down by the seam of her pants with his mouth, the girl now covered head to toe with viscous, black goo.

"Thanks, little bear," she said, wiping the black stuff off of her face.

The Abomination roared, causing the structure to vibrate, as two hideous hands appeared out of the giant doors. The long, thin, sharp fingers were tipped by talons that curved and twisted. Smoke and vapor billowed out of its disfigured snout, part flesh, part bone, part metal, sniffing through the widening opening like a predator searching for the scent of its prey.

"Sweet mother of all truths—it's enormous," Rosso's mouth opened wide.

"And ugly," C-Saw added.

The fighters flew in all directions, as blasts lit up the place. On the ground, Fulvix and the locals barricaded themselves as armored soldiers shot a barrage of bullets their way. The Sunflower was suddenly hit from behind. Pivoting his body, he blocked another hit carrying the Brute Force Gift. His shield flickered, taking on the brunt of the immense momentum. The Shadow pummeled him relentlessly, battling both him and Rosso simultaneously atop the platform's roof. The heretic let out a grunt as he was launched backwards, the enemy's kick landing on his chest. The boy saw an opening he could exploit, but his opponent speed was unmatched, surprising him, grabbing the hero's face with a fierce grip. Roa felt his stomach drop as the ground disappeared beneath his feet, as he was launched over the edge, toward the void below. The two fell down the length of the structure. The viscous sea below was like a wall of concrete on the hero's back upon impact, until both were completely swallowed by the oil.

"He's not stopping, I'm going to drown," thought the boy as they sank deeper into the abyss. His lungs convulsed, desperate for air as oxygen slipped away. He thrashed against the enemy's unrelenting hold, fists swinging, moving too slow in the viscous liquid to cause any harm, his body writhing in a futile attempt to break free. Faces of his friends flashed in his mind, one after another, their images tinged with fading hope. He wished for one of them to appear, to pull him out of the void and save him—but no one came. The darkness pressed in, vast and unyielding, when Nirvana's words stirred, echoing faintly in the depths of his mind.

"You know the Gunhand Gift. You just have to remember it."

He stopped squirming, calmed his heart, focusing his energy into the tips of his fingers. He pointed them forward, toward where the enemy's mask must have been—hoping for the best.

"Bring the fight down. We must conserve our energies," said Vesper.

The Jumpers regrouped on the top of the platform, their auras running dangerously thin. The elite guard seemed inexhaustible, continuing to attack as if holding endless reserves of aura. A thunderous clank reverberated through the air as the massive doors ground to a halt. The heroes spun around, relief washing over their faces as a few triumphant cheers broke the tense chaos.

"Thero, you did it!"

A piercing scream tore through the silence, reverberating like a jagged blade against steel walls, as a grotesque face emerged from the depths of the cage. Smoke coiled around the creature, dense and acrid, stinging the eyes and clawing at the throat with every breath. The Abomination's growls were low and guttural, vibrating in the air like thunder, only to be interrupted by a wet, retching sound as it spewed viscous, black goo that sizzled upon contact with the cold, metal floor.

Its face was obscured by a pale mask reminiscent of the Shadows', but unlike them, it bore no trace of humanity. Four luminous, yellow eyes gleamed with predatory hunger, darting independently like lanterns in the dark. Its fangs, jagged, misshapen and grotesquely oversized, dripped with a thick, tar-like substance that oozed slowly down its maw. The tar reeked of decay, a sharp, metallic tang that mingled with the fetid odor of spoiled meat, making the air heavy and nearly unbearable, even at such distance. Its presence was suffocating, its aura imposingly immense—a living nightmare that set the skin crawling with each scream, and the stomach churning with each breath.

Theya collapsed, rendered unconscious by a strike from the back. The others tried to defend themselves, but were overwhelmed as well. One by one, they fell. All hope seemed lost when something shot out of the oil, like a missile reaching for the sky.

"Let my friends go!" screamed the Sunflower, landing onto one of the enemies, smashing his face onto the floor. He turned around and took on the remaining enemies all at once.

"You're flying, boy! You finally did it," shouted the old man, pride gleaming in his eyes.

Roa's aura grew and grew, until his whole body glowed in a golden, bright light, piercing through the dark, sticky substance covering his skin. He moved so fast that he appeared to be everywhere, all at once. His friends' eyes opened wide, unable to believe what they were witnessing. The enemies' bodies fell. One smashed against the side of the platform, while two more disappeared beneath the black surface below, splashing in opposite directions.

"Sunflower," murmured Tanoò, smiling as it followed his movements with precision. "You are remembering."

The final opponent emerged atop the platform, the eyes behind his mask scanning the area with slow, deliberate sweeps as it searched for the boy. It froze. A searing hole burned clean through its forehead, and the last of the elite guards collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud. Behind him stood the hero from Earth, a sly smile on his face, his right hand shaped like a gun. He raised it and blew on his fingers, as though they were the tip of a smoking weapon, before letting his arm drop with casual confidence.

"I think I'm getting the hang of this," he said, "but I think I'm almost out of juice."

The others stood up, bruised and banged up, but still in one piece. They ran up to the boy, patting him on the back.

Their celebration did not last long, however. Blow after blow, the creature in the distance grew furious. Something flew past them like a giant bullet—it was one of the giant hinges, the sight sending a wave of terror through the remaining fighters. Then—a slow, deafening screech. One of the doors detached from the wall and fell into the black liquid in slow motion, triggering an enormous tsunami that swept away both their local allies and the uniformed opponents on the ground. The Abomination was free.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.