Desmond Hostetter looked at the map of the area that he had been given by the colonel. Section eighteen consisted mainly of residential blocks, but 57th Street was a direct line to the city center. Half a dozen teams in the area were scouting to make sure that Revolutionary forces had not breached past sixtieth street.

  His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of gunfire. Their heads snapped south to see a building that had escaped the worst of the bombardments that had hit the city. He would see the occasional neon green flash of a nether-charged round going off. He started to move while yelling at the others with him, "Martin! Eno! We have contact to the south. We have people engaging." The orange Felide and olive-skinned human woman nodded before following closely behind.

  "Fuck!" she screamed as an electric blue blot of something slammed into the wall she was taking cover behind.

  Desperately trying to reload her repeating rifle, she attempted to cycle a bullet into the chamber. The action wouldn't complete. "Quint! The rifle is fucking jammed. Buy me some time!" Quint gave her a thumbs up. She proceeded to but her palm with a combat knife.

  Specialist Quint was the squad’s combat necromancer. Using her blood as a catalyst, she reached deep into the spiritual abyss known as the River. She felt for a vein of usable nethergy and the spirits who would heed the call. It didn't take much. Within seconds, she had the power that she needed. Sickly green energy coated her still-bleeding hands. A glob of her own blood about the size of a marble radiated with violent intent. Taking a moment to make sure there would be no friendly fire, she hurled the orb of blood into the room.

  A screech like the opening of the rusted gates of the abyss tore through the area. The screams of the enemy could be heard as the transient spirits clawed at their souls, ripping parts of their minds and bodies away, followed by a forced wave of despair. They braced and pushed it away like they had been trained. The enemy Revolutionaries were not so prepared. They were momentarily stunned by the wave of emotion.

  Argalia finally cleared the jam and loaded a round home, pulling nethergy from her own soul to empower the rifle. She took aim at the still-reeling Revolutionaries and fired. Four quick shots, and they were down. She took a quick breath to center herself. Seconds later, an explosion rocked the building as something impacted outside. Using a pocket mirror to peak out the north windows, Quint saw more troops heading their way.

  "Argalia, we got incoming from the north! Looks like about two dozen of them, and they have alchemical rockets."

  She cursed at the news. Just their luck. Over the runes on her shoulder, she heard a message.

  "Argalia, Quint. We are on our way. Be careful. We see about ten heading your way from the south. We are heading to intercept."

  She was knocked to the ground as another explosion rocked the building, shaking it to its core. Argalia looked at the chips of wood and stone falling from the ceiling. "Quint, this building is going to fall our heads soon if you don't do something."

  The calico Felide nodded her head in agreement. "Hmmm," Quint mused for a moment. "I have an idea, but I will need a moment."

  Quint handed Argalia a belt of grenades filled to the brim with nethergy. The black and beige Vulpi nodded, understanding the intent.

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  Quickly, she moved off to the northern windows.

  Quint took her combat knife and slashed opened her brachial artery. She had no time for surgical applications of her craft. Crimson ichor flowed from her veins, the currency to borrow power from the beyond. Quint felt her connection to the River strengthen. Before, she was merely skimming that chaotic sea of memory and energy. Now, she would dive into the depths in search of a vein of power to tap. The currents that flowed between worlds were turbulent. Souls begged to be among the living again, some to have their memories evicted and returned to the wheel. She would oblige those who wished to end their stay in the River early.

  Within seconds, she had enough souls, stripping them of their memories. This process released the nethergy she needed. She began to build, grow, and contort. From the blood that pooled around her sprang bone, sinew, and undead muscle. Cracks filled, timbers supported, and any space that needed support got filled with bone and sinew. From the outside, it was as if the four-story building began to grow scales of ivory.

  Desmond and the two following him were running as fast as they could. They needed to intercept the ten soldiers before they got to the building. He gave a silent prayer to the Lord of Gears. He would need the grace of divine clockwork if he and his soldiers were going to get through this alive. Hearing an explosion rock the building where Argalia and Quint were trapped, he focused inward on the primal part of his soul. Instantly, the change took him, the pain of shifting a fleeting annoyance.

  Nothing compared to the urgency of getting his people out of this mess. Thanks to long practices in the art of his people, he didn’t break his stride as he changed.

  Jet-black fur began to cover every inch of his brown skin. His short, clipped afro grew into a mane of dreadlocks. A once flat human face turned into a lupine muzzle. Ears changed from the human norm to pointed canine tips. Combat boots were discarded to reveal mailed ankle wraps that allowed his claws to dig into the cobblestone road. Blunt human nails changed into wicked and sharp black claws. As his bulk increased, buttons snapped open to allow his uniform to stretch to his new increased size.

  "Werewolf!" one of the soldiers yelled out as he crashed into them.

  His hulking two-and-a-half-meter height barreled through their formation. Dreadlocks flared in the wind as he charged into them. The Revolutionaries were strafed with machine gun fire from Martin, who set up behind a brick wall across the street.

  Desmond clawed at the solider who he tackled, ripping through his uniform and spilling entrails across the sidewalk. The holy brass clockwork churned with divine power as his prayers were answered. A wall of clockwork divided the group of soldiers in two. With no fear of hitting his sergeant, Martin emptied his belt of ammunition into the group.

  Desmond pulled his trench gun from his back, clicking the safety off as he did so. What was once an oversized weapon for him now fit snuggly into his clawed hands. Using the wall of gears as cover, he advanced on the soldiers who had taken cover in a bakery. Desmond bellowed an ear-splitting roar before he rounded the corner. The soldiers who covered their ears on reflex were cut down by the inferno shells of the trench gun.

  He scrunched his wet nose at the acrid smell of burning flesh and fur. Outside the bakery, he heard machine gun fire cut off.

  "Martin, you okay!" he said as he loaded shells into his trench gun with a speed loader.

  "Alive! I wouldn't say okay, though. Fuck, this hurts!"

  The large werewolf ducked back outside after checking to make sure the coast was clear. He saw the machine gun still on the brick wall, with Eno making her way over behind the wall.

  "Quit your fucking bitching. It’s just a flesh wound." She chuckled as she looked at the wound.

  "Eat shit, you soulless bitch. I can't move my arm," he cursed her through gritted fangs.

  "See, just a flesh wound." Her hands glowed a dull purple as the flesh and fur knit back together. All three of them flinched as another explosion came from the now ivory-covered building. They looked to see several of the scales on the building knitting back together. Concern washed over Eno’s face.

  "Sergeant, that takes a frankly disgusting amount of nethergy to maintain. They need our help."

  Desmond nodded to them, and Eno got up. "Come on, Martin. Smoke break is over. Get your tail moving."

  The orange tabby sighed and got up, only to be knocked flat on his muzzle. A thunderous crack followed by an over-pressure wave rolled through the area. They looked up just in time to see rubble, sinew, and bone falling out of the hole before it closed back up slowly.

  "We need to go, now!"

  Martin jumped to his feet. All three of them rushed to their siblings in arms.