A crimson marker bloomed across my HUD, ARIA's whisper etching directly into my vision—no sound, just glowing text overlays that pulsed with urgent warmth, searing the retinas like branding irons: East docks. Abandoned foundry. 15 miles. Optimal route plotted.

Ava's Serpent shifted beside me, her visor tilting with a faint hydraulic sigh, the nano-suit creaking softly against her breath. "Any support, Eros?"

"Three of them," ARIA's holograms flashed in my eyes no the helmet's glass, eerie icons pulsing—indistinct silhouettes materializing from the starless void above, descending in unnatural silence that pressed against my eardrums like vacuum, their forms shimmering with a cold, metallic sheen that distorted the air, warping starlight into fractured halos, locking into a predatory triangle high overhead.

What were they? Phantoms with pulsing veins of unseen energy? Summons from the system's depths—or predators drawn to our scent?

A prickle crawled my skin, goosebumps rising under the suit, as their icons throbbed red, unblinking, emitting a sub-audible hum that vibrated in my teeth.

No time for answers. The chill deepened, fogging my breath inside the helmet.

"Strap engage," I said, calm over comms—crystal clear, speed-proof channels unfazed by chaos, voices intimate as whispers in the ear. "Hyper-speed. Let's vanish the city."

Ava nodded, palm pressing her console with a resonant click, the surface cool and pulsing under her touch. "Live."

The straps awakened with precision fury—nano-tendrils unfurling from hidden compartments with a silken hiss, coiling around wrists first, snapping them forward into aerodynamic lock with a sharp tug that jolted bones, torso fusing to the tank as core bands cinched with hydraulic whispers, squeezing ribs in a breath-stealing embrace, distributing weight for flawless balance while textured pads gripped skin through the suit.

Thigh clamps engaged next, biting secure with cool metal teeth, boots mag-locking to pegs with a magnetic thud, rear anchor bolting the spine in a rigid line that sent tingling waves up my vertebrae. The AI hummed approval, a vibration buzzing through the seat: Strap integrity 100%.

Dampers primed.

My Reaper mirrored—straps clamping with unyielding grace, my body molded into a living projectile, the scent of heated alloys filling the helmet.

Thrusters charged—plasma coils spinning up with a deep, rising thrum that rumbled in my chest, magnetic rails humming as electromagnets aligned, vibrating the frame like a bowstring drawn taut, ready to catapult.

Throttle twist.

The launch hit like divine wrath, a visceral punch slamming organs back.

Velocity surged: 0 to 100 MPH in the first heartbeat—tires digging trenches in concrete with a screech that echoed in skull-shaking waves, sparks erupting in blinding orange arcs, scorching the air with acrid burn, as traction control micro-adjusted grip, AI overriding spin with split-second bursts from side vents that whooshed hot exhaust.

Shield bubble snapped online, nano-layer shimmering invisible but pressing against skin like a second membrane, parting air with a low whine, eliminating drag and noise while filtering rush into a muffled roar.

150 MPH: Garage exit blurred into a streaking void, overhead lights strobing into solid lines that burned afterimages, AI auto-evade kicking in—sensors mapping every obstacle with pinging echoes, bikes weaving fluidly, leaning into curves at impossible angles, tires screeching with ear-splitting shrieks, counter-steer algorithms predicting physics three moves ahead, G-forces tugging flesh like invisible hands.

A semis loomed—massive rig blocking the ramp, its diesel stink wafting—AI override flashed: Evasive leap engaged.

Thrusters pulsed downward with a booming thud, launching us airborne, bikes soaring over the truck in a graceful arc, wind howling muted through the shield, landing with shock absorbers compressing fully then rebounding in a bone-jarring snap, no jolt but a seamless surge that thrilled the spine.

We burst past a truck!

The driver?

Barely a glimpse—our shadows flickering past his windshield in a gust of displaced air, his coffee spilling in delayed shock, steam rising.

220 MPH: Highway merged into chaos—cars a stationary herd, headlights frozen in time-lapse glare. We slalomed through, AI plotting gaps nanoseconds wide with beeping alerts, bikes tilting radical, knees skimming asphalt with scraping sparks, shield deflecting pebbles into harmless vapor that pinged off like rain.

Pedestrians on overpasses?

Whispers of wind shear, a phantom roar that rattled windows—we were gone before eyes registered, leaving only rippling air, echoing thunder, and the faint scent of ionized ozone.

280 MPH: Plasma trails ignited blue, flames licking the periphery, ionizing atmosphere with a sharp, metallic tang in filtered intakes. G-forces built—4G, 5G—dampers pulsing counter-waves that throbbed in veins, straps flexing adaptive with creaking tension, keeping blood flow steady, vision crystal but tunneled.

Terrain shifted—bridge ahead, traffic jam—AI ramped: Vertical assist.

Front wheels lifted with a howling pitch, bikes wheelie-climbing an invisible incline, thrusters boosting over the gridlock in a rush of hot propulsion, landing on the far side with twin thuds that reverberated through bones, cars below rocking in our wake, alarms blaring.

Drivers gaped—black streaks materializing and dematerializing, gone in a heartbeat, hearts pounding from the sonic boom.

Three of THEM flanked from above—enigmatic wraiths gliding in eerie unison, their outlines warping the starlight with a frigid downdraft that chilled the air, trailing us like silent sentinels... or harbingers?

HUD icons pulsed ominously, no data. Vigilance advised.

A faint hum vibrated through the comms, not mechanical—almost alive, resonating in the chest like a distant heartbeat, casting flickering shadows that danced unnaturally across the visors. What hunger drove them?

320 MPH peak: City limits shattered with a concussive crack, docks rushing up in a salty brine gust—rusted gates ahead, corrosion flaking.

Rails flared with blinding light, propelling us straight through, gates exploding outward in metal confetti that clanged off the shield, shards vaporizing in sparks.

Velocity bled controlled—thrusters reversing with a deafening backwash, brakes venting plasma in scalding clouds, straps holding firm until stop, muscles aching from the ride's embrace.

Foundry loomed, Volkov inside, the air thick with rust and impending blood.

We dismounted fluid, straps retracting with wet hisses, limbs tingling. Beasts idled, three of THEM hovering motionless overhead, casting elongated shadows that writhed like living ink, whispering promises of unseen violence.

Hunt begun.

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.