CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Stupid Questions

  Marcus skidded to a halt near the base of the crumbling apartment building. He watched Bastion grab the burnt-out truck blocking the doorway. Its fingers dug into the warped metal, lifting it with a screech that cut through the muffled chaos. It shoved the wreck aside, where it scraped over the asphalt and slammed into the curb, leaving the entrance clear.

  A wall of smoke poured out, stinging Marcus’s eyes and burning his throat. He tightened the damp jacket around his face, the fabric doing little to block the acrid air. Every breath clawed at his lungs, but he stepped forward anyway, pushing Bastion ahead of him.

  “Remind me not to leave home again without a gas mask,” Marcus muttered before the two stepped inside.

  “I can get the other boy and woman,” Bastion said, its voice flat but loud enough to carry over the building’s groans.

  Marcus ignored it, pressing his hand against the robot’s back to keep it moving. “Just go,” he rasped through gritted teeth.

  Inside, the stairs creaked under their weight, each step making Marcus more aware of how unstable the building had become. Smoke thickened as they climbed, choking out what little light managed to filter through the shattered windows. Bastion’s shoulder-mounted lights switched on, piercing the gloom with two steady beams.

  Marcus followed close behind, his chest heaving. He clenched his right fist, and tiny jets of air hissed from between his fingers, parting enough smoke to reveal fragments of their path ahead. The trick barely helped—smoke swirled back into place as fast as he cleared it, and he felt the drain of his Mana with each burst.

  The building’s protests grew louder. Metal groaned from somewhere deep inside, and the walls cracked under the heat. Occasionally he heard faint screams and distorted, inhuman noises coming from outside, reminding him of what was happening elsewhere in the Sphere. Just as they reached the third floor, a sharp noise stopped Marcus in his tracks.

  Skittering.

  The sound scratched its way through the smoke, faint at first but growing louder. ‘Claws, maybe? Whatever it was, it was fast, darting across wooden floorboards just out of sight.’ Marcus briefly touched Bastion to sync up their minds..

  He could see from the robot’s perspective, its lights trained on the stairwell above. Its axe shifted slightly in its grip, the motion slow and deliberate.

  “It’s up there,” Bastion muttered, barely above a whisper, before it moved forward again.

  Smoke wrapped around them as they climbed. The skittering continued, erratic—left, right, back again. It stayed in the shadows, just out of reach of Bastion’s lights.

  Marcus didn’t stop. His legs burned, his lungs felt like ash, and every instinct screamed that he couldn’t handle whatever monster lay ahead. ‘Stop whining,’ he thought, raising a hand to Bastion’s shoulder to sync their thoughts again.

  ‘Gale-blast.’

  Mana surged through him, and a massive gust of wind blasted upward. Smoke scattered, spiraling up and out as nearby windows shattered under the force of the blast and flying debris. The wooden stairs groaned in protest, fractures spreading along their edges. Above them, the wind exposed the creature.

  It clung to the staircase landing, thin and grotesque. Its worm-like body pulsed, muscular limbs ending in sharp claws that gouged the wooden banister. It had no eyes, just smooth, pale skin stretched too tightly over its elongated skull.

  The instant it came into view, Bastion charged. Its shield came up, and its axe gleamed in the light, cutting a straight path toward the creature. The monster let out a sound between a hiss and a gurgle before slithering away, just as Bastion’s shield smashed into the wall.

  The robot pivoted, catching the thing’s tail with a swing of its axe. Bastion’s blade cleaved through the slick, segmented flesh with a wet crunch, severing the tip. The monster recoiled, screeching.

  “Go!” Bastion roared, its voice booming over the chaos.

  Marcus didn’t hesitate. He bolted past the fight, racing down the hallway to the apartment where he had found the woman and child earlier. He skidded to a halt, threw the door open, and stepped inside. They looked even paler than before, their chests rising and falling weakly. Marcus dropped to his knees, wrapping the boy in a damp towel as he had done with Tim. Then, he did the same for the woman.

  He tried to block out the sounds of combat from the hallway, but flashes of Bastion’s memories broke through the mental connection. Each blow the robot exchanged with the creature burned into Marcus’s mind—the desperate swings of the axe, the shield battering against its flailing claws. Bastion’s armor groaned as the monster carved deep, jagged lines into the metal.

  ‘He needs help,’ Marcus thought, his gaze flicking back to the unconscious pair. Every second wasted was one closer to them not making it out. ‘I need him to help me with them.’ He bit back a curse, gripping his dagger, and sprinted back into the hallway.

  Bastion’s axe cleaved through the air as the creature skittered across the floor, crawling up the wall before launching itself at the robot. It latched on, claws digging into Bastion’s shoulders, its teeth sinking into the metal plating of its neck.

  Marcus sprinted, slamming the dagger into the creature’s shoulder. He twisted violently before pressing his right fist against the side of the monster’s head.

  ‘Gale-blast.’

  With a shout, he unleashed everything he had left. Mana poured out, a concentrated gust of wind blasting at point-blank range into the creature’s head. The force sent Marcus staggering back, his arm snapping upward from the recoil.

  The monster howled, its clawed hands clutching at its bleeding head. The strange pores on its skull oozed as the pressure ruptured something inside. Bastion didn’t waste the opportunity. Its axe came down on the creature’s skull with a sickening crunch, and the robot rammed its shield into its neck repeatedly. Each blow sent reverberations through the hallway.

  The creature writhed, yet its movements weren’t slowing. Still, Bastion kept up the assault as it shoved the monster toward the nearest broken window. With a sharp kick, it sent the thing crashing through the remaining glass. A mangled screech echoed as gravity took over, followed by a nasty crash.

  “It’s not dead yet. Let’s go before it gets back up,” Bastion said, stepping away from the window. Its battered frame showed just how difficult the fight had been.

  The two of them sprinted back into the smoke-filled apartment. Marcus struggled to hold his breath. His eyes stung so badly that he almost preferred Kate’s pepper spray. Inside the bathroom, he grabbed the boy, lifting him into his arms before carrying him to the balcony.

  With one foot on the ledge, Marcus peered over the edge. His grip tightened. He adjusted the boy in his arms, exhaled, and let himself drop. The balcony below rushed up fast, but his knees bent on impact, absorbing the brunt of the fall. He set the boy down carefully before glancing up just as Bastion lowered the unconscious woman from above.

  Marcus reached up, taking her weight with both hands as Bastion lowered her further. He carefully placed her next to the boy before looking up again. Bastion stepped onto the ledge, its bulk making the balcony groan. A second later, it dropped down, shattering part of the balcony. Marcus reached up to steady the robot, his arms straining under its weight before it found its balance.

  They repeated the process for the next floor, frustration gnawing at Marcus over how long it was taking. Finally, they hit the ground, both of them making a break for the barrier in the distance. The air stung his eyes, but Marcus was finally able to take in deep breaths of semi-clean air, even though each one burned and made him cough.

  They were halfway there when a screeching sound cut through the air behind them. Marcus whipped his head around, his heart lurching as the wounded creature barreled toward them. Its claws scraped the ground, its movements erratic but terrifyingly fast.

  Before he could react, Bastion turned and thrust the woman into his arms.

  “Keep running!” Bastion shouted, its voice sharp and urgent. It gripped its axe and shield again, positioning itself between Marcus and the monster. “Get them out!”

  Marcus hesitated for half a second, then clenched his jaw and obeyed his metal self. He adjusted his hold on the woman, his legs screaming in protest as he broke into a run.

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  Behind him, the sounds of battle raged. Steel met flesh with sickening force, Bastion’s roars clashing with the monster’s screeches. Marcus’s gut twisted, but he didn’t look back.

  The barrier was just ahead, its translucent surface rippling faintly. Marcus skidded to a halt, breathing hard, then forced himself forward into the barrier. The gel-like substance resisted for a moment before giving way. He moved slowly, suppressing the urge to rush, knowing it would make it harder to pass through.

  Emergency personnel swarmed around him on the other side. Marcus coughed violently, his lungs burning as he knelt to place the woman down first. A fireman reached for the boy, carefully handling him.

  They were quickly surrounded by medics, their voices blending into the commotion. Marcus barely registered the noise, focused on catching his breath.

  “Marcus!”

  He turned his head at the sound of his name. Kate was pushing through the crowd, her face pale, eyes wide. A police officer held her back, keeping her from getting too close.

  Marcus gave her a brief nod, a silent reassurance, before spinning on his heel. ‘Bastion’s still in there,’ he thought, realizing he didn’t have time to spare.

  Through the semi-transparent barrier, Marcus watched the fight unfold. Bastion was barely holding its ground. The creature moved like a blur, striking and dodging before Bastion’s axe could land a clean hit. Its claws tore into the robot’s frame, leaving deep scratches and dents.

  Marcus stepped toward the barrier, ready to charge back inside. Before he could move, a pair of hands latched onto his arm.

  “Stop!” a police officer shouted, his voice barely audible over the chaos. Another officer joined him, grabbing Marcus’s other arm.

  Marcus turned his head, his face unreadable. “Let go,” he said flatly.

  He wrenched his arms to the side, his strength yanking both officers off balance. They stumbled and hit the ground with startled shouts.

  Marcus didn’t stop to look at them. He went through the barrier again, the gel-like surface rippling around him.

  As he stepped through, the ground beneath him rumbled.. He froze as the barrier began to flicker, its glow dimming. Cracks spread outward like spiderwebs before breaking apart. Marcus watched in disbelief as the shimmering fragments disintegrated, vanishing into nothingness.

  The earth trembled again as the final fragments of the barrier dissolved into nothing. ‘They got the Orb!’ Relief surged through him, but the feeling was short-lived.

  The creature hadn’t slowed. If anything, it moved faster now, its hisses and growls louder, its attacks on Bastion more relentless. It fought like it had nothing left to lose. Each swing of the robot’s axe missed by fractions of a second as the monster darted left, right, and back again. Its claws left fresh gashes in Bastion’s dented armor, and Marcus could feel the strain radiating through their shared link.

  He tensed, ready to charge forward and help, when the first gunshot rang out.

  It startled him, and he spun to see a line of police officers taking aim, their pistols roaring one after another, sharp cracks cutting through the smoky air. Bullets slammed into the creature, some tearing into its thick skin, others ricocheting harmlessly off. Still, it was enough to slow the monster, its snarls shifting into pained shrieks as it twisted and writhed under the hail of gunfire.

  Bastion took advantage of the opening, slamming its shield into the creature’s side, sending it stumbling back. The fight dragged on for what felt like forever, each second stretching into an eternity. Marcus’s heart pounded as he watched Bastion and the officers wear the monster down.

  Finally, the creature staggered, clutching its head with clawed hands. Its movements grew sluggish, the hissing fading to a faint whine. Then it dropped, its limbs sprawling out lifelessly on the pavement.

  Bastion didn’t stop.

  The robot’s axe rose and fell, hacking into the creature’s corpse again and again. Blood sprayed from each strike, pooling beneath the mangled remains. Bastion stomped on the body, the sound of cracking bone echoing across the street. With one last heave, it drove its hand into the back of the monster’s head and tore free the collection of Monster-Glass embedded there. The jagged pieces glinted briefly in the dim light before Bastion clenched it in its hand.

  Marcus exhaled sharply and stumbled back. His legs wobbled, his arms trembled, and a violent cough wracked his chest. Every muscle in his body screamed at him to stop, to rest, to breathe.

  Around him, firefighters and police officers surged past, heading to the nearby houses to begin rescue operations. The chaos felt somehow distant, muffled.

  A hand gripped his arm, and Marcus instinctively pulled away, spinning around to see who it was. He blinked in surprise as the old man—Pete—stood there.

  Marcus opened his mouth to apologize, to ask about Tim, but Pete pulled him into a hug. The man’s arms wrapped tightly around him, shaking as he cried.

  “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” Pete muttered over and over, his voice cracking as he apologized for calling Marcus and putting him through all this.

  Marcus froze awkwardly, unsure what to do, simply letting the man cling to him. After a few moments, Pete stepped back, wiping at his eyes as a paramedic approached Marcus to check him over.

  Bastion appeared then, its frame battered, its once whole surface covered in blood, scratches and dents. The robot stopped next to Marcus, its lenses scanning him briefly. “You good?” it asked.

  Marcus coughed again, his throat raw, yet he waved it off. “Perfect.”

  Pete’s eyes widened as he saw Bastion, his gaze flicking back and forth between the robot and Marcus. “You…” he started, but no other words followed. Recognition burned in his eyes.

  Bastion glanced at Pete and gave a single nod before turning back to Marcus.

  “I’m going back in to check for survivors,” it said simply.

  Marcus opened his mouth to stop Bastion, to tell it not to go back in. It was barely holding itself together, its armor cracked and dented in too many places to count. But it didn’t slow down. It just kept moving as it made its way toward the ruined building, passing emergency personnel and other Breachers.

  ‘If anyone looks too closely, they’ll figure out what Bastion is,’ Marcus thought, his chest tightening.

  He shifted his attention to Pete, who stood frozen, still staring at Bastion’s retreating back. The old man muttered something under his breath, his voice too low and shaky to make out the words.

  Marcus swallowed hard, about to plead with Pete not to say anything about Bastion, when a figure came rushing toward him.

  It was his uncle, still in his police uniform. Marcus’s legs felt like lead as the man’s expression shifted—surprise, worry, and anger flashing across his face in the span of a heartbeat.

  ‘This is bad,’ Marcus thought, dread pooling in his stomach. He could already hear the scolding coming—every word of it justified.

  Before his uncle could reach him, another voice cut through the chaos, shouting his name.

  “Marcus!”

  The voice carried an edge of fury that made him wince. He turned slowly, his stomach twisting.

  His sister.

  She stormed toward him, her Breacher armor scuffed and splattered with dirt and blood. The rest of her party followed close behind, looking equally battered. She didn’t even glance at Bastion as she passed by, her focus locked entirely on Marcus.

  “God, kill me now,” he muttered, closing his eyes briefly before bracing himself.

  And then all hell broke loose.

  - - -

  Half an hour later, Marcus sat on the hood of a police car, a scratchy blanket draped around his shoulders. Bandages crisscrossed his arms. A half-empty cup of water sat in one hand while he peeled the wrapper from a candy bar with the other. He took a bite, savoring the sweetness as it cut through the lingering taste of smoke and soot. Around him, chaos rumbled on—wounded civilians were still being pulled from the rubble, ambulances screamed in the distance, and more firefighters poured in from neighboring cities to join the effort.

  His eyes drifted to Pete, who stood a few paces away, locked in conversation with Marcus’s sister and uncle. The old man gestured animatedly, occasionally pointing in Marcus’s direction. Meanwhile, Kate stood off to the side, speaking with a police officer. She looked stiff, her discomfort plain as day.

  “Brave man,” Marcus muttered under his breath, recalling the verbal lashing he’d endured earlier. His uncle and sister had laid into him, one after the other, their words sharp and unforgiving. It might’ve gone on forever if Pete hadn’t finally stepped in. The old man had defended him, explaining what Marcus had done and why.

  Pete’s words still echoed in his mind, leaving him caught between pride and unease. “I hope the little bugger’s alright,” Marcus murmured, thinking of Tim’s pale face.

  A rustle caught his attention, and Kate wandered over, her steps slower than usual. She sank to the ground beside him, leaning back against the car.

  “Is it always like this?” she asked, her voice low and tired.

  Marcus let out a weary sigh. “I hope not.”

  They sat in silence for a while, watching the chaos unfold around them, with Marcus occasionally taking a sip of water or a bite to eat. His uncle eventually left to help secure the perimeter, shouting orders as he went.

  Pete and his sister approached next, her expression still stormy. She stopped in front of Marcus and jabbed his chest with her gauntleted hand, hard enough to make him wince.

  “You… did good,” she said, forcing the words out. Her jaw remained tight, and her eyes burned with frustration, relief, and something unreadable. “I hate this… but… I would’ve done the same.”

  Marcus opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off with a glare.

  “That wasn’t a compliment, Marcus,” she shot back. Her hands balled into fists at her sides. “This was a red Sphere. Anything could’ve gone wrong in there. The fire, the monsters, the sheer amount of Mana in the air.”

  He nodded, letting her vent, knowing he would’ve done the same in her position.

  ‘Just a few more weeks,’ he thought, remembering the conversation with his robots. He was nearing the tipping point, the moment when someone would uncover what he really was. ‘She’s got a Power rating of 35. Once I reach that, I can tell her the truth.’

  His sister stepped back, her face softening slightly as she shook her head. “I need to meet up with my squad leader. Just try not to get yourself killed in the next few hours, alright?”

  Marcus nodded, watching her give him one last annoyed look before walking away.

  “She’s scarier than the monsters,” Kate said softly before chuckling nervously. She pushed herself up, brushing dirt off her pants. “I’m going to head out too. I’ll see you in two days.” She waved before slipping into the crowd and disappearing.

  Pete lowered himself onto the car hood beside Marcus, his eyes fixed on the burning buildings in the distance.

  “I still can’t believe you came. That you did what you did,” the old man said. “You saved three people today.”

  “It’s fine. I mean, I was in the neighborhood,” Marcus replied with a faint grin. “Any word on how the kid’s doing?”

  “Stable,” Pete said, his voice softening as a fragile smile played at his lips. “Thanks to you.”

  The old man turned to him fully, his expression unreadable. “That other Breacher… that robot was—”

  “Me,” Marcus said plainly, not bothering to hide it. If anyone deserved the truth, it was Pete, the man who’d patched up his robots more times than he could count. “It’s the ability I got when I became a Breacher. I can split my mind and shove it inside robots, as long as they’ve got an Orb inside and some other things.”

  Pete’s brow furrowed, his lips parting as if to ask a question..

  “It’s a long story,” Marcus added, cutting him off.

  “Isn’t that dangerous?” Pete asked after a few moments.

  Marcus smirked. “I thought we weren’t supposed to ask stupid questions.”

  Pete let out a weak chuckle, muttering, “Little shit.” The two of them fell quiet again, their gazes locked on the distant flames as firefighters fought to smother the blaze.

  “Tim’s all I have left of my son,” Pete finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I…”

  “You’re a good grandfather,” Marcus said firmly. “You were right to call me. And it all worked out, didn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” Pete muttered, shaking his head. “But in turn, I made you risk your life and put your family through hell worrying about you.”

  Silence hung between them for a moment before Pete straightened, squared his shoulders, and turned to face Marcus. His eyes burned with determination.

  “You saved my grandson,” he said, his voice steady. “There’s nothing worth more to me than that. I don’t have much, but name it, and it’s yours.”

  Marcus studied the man’s face, recognizing the raw conviction in his eyes.

  “I didn’t save him to get a reward,” Marcus said slowly, pushing himself off the car. Then, with a sly grin, he extended a hand. “But since you’re offering, how about you join my guild?”