The heat grew thicker and heavier, almost as if it were alive. The very air around them pulsed, shimmering like it was preparing to collapse in on itself.

And at the centre of it all, the Messiah hovered, hands stretched skyward, golden light coiling around his body like divine serpents.

He was glowing brighter than ever, his outline beginning to blur, as though reality itself couldn't fully contain him anymore.

It was clear now, he was preparing for something final.

Something apocalyptic.

Kai's eyes narrowed, blood hissing on his skin from the sheer heat radiating outward. This wasn't a bluff.

Whatever this was… it was going to erase them.

"I don't like this," Sven muttered, panting as he leaned on one knee, sweat pouring off him. His legs were already trembling, tiny spasms rippling down his calves. "Feels like he's about to smite us off the face of the Earth."

Nadya didn't reply, but her fists clenched. Her skin was blistered, and half of her jacket had melted off her arm. Even her orbs, floating near her palms, pulsed erratically under the pressure of the heat waves.

They were out of time, and even more out of ideas.

'Should we run?' Kai's mind raced, weighing their options. 'We could use Isaac to phase us out of here. Or maybe we jump into the water. But would we even be able to make it?'

But even as the thoughts formed, he discarded them.

They'd come this far, fought through the Scalpel and his crew, bled and drained themselves in the process, and finally reached this deranged mutant. And for what?

To leave empty-handed?

If they turned tail now, all they'd have accomplished was painting targets on their backs. They'd earned the wrath of the Scalpel and the Messiah, and gained nothing in return. No samples of the drugs. No leads on Nyx. No proof for the Association.

And besides... was escape even possible?

Sven, as fast as he was, looked like his muscles would snap if he pushed again. Nadya was running low on energy, her orbs wavering and her focus frayed. And Kai... Kai could heal, but even he had limits. He wasn't sure how many more burns he could tank before his body simply stopped responding.

'We don't even know what he's about to unleash,' Kai thought, jaw clenched. 'But no mutant is invincible. No ability comes without a cost. There has to be something. Some crack in his divine armour.'

Every mutant had their limits and some sort of side effect to overusing their ability.

They just had to be ready when he did.

Kai looked at Sven. Sven looked at Nadya. In that wordless moment, they knew, they weren't backing down.

They'd stand their ground.

If they had to burn, they'd burn fighting.

Worst case? Isaac could still get them out. Maybe Takeshi would appear, like he always did, right when they needed him most.

That hope kept them standing.

But they quickly realised just how much they had underestimated the attack the glowing mutant was about to release...

-

Meanwhile, elsewhere…

Isaac skulked through the shadows behind a stack of rusted containers, a thin bead of sweat rolling down his temple. His heart thudded louder than his footsteps, and he moved with the cautious energy of someone desperately trying to be useful.

The others were facing the damned Messiah, an elite-tier mutant who was likely even close to an Apex-tier like Hyperion, who was revered around the world.

He at least had to handle this.

Across the dockyard, a cluster of small wooden crates loomed beneath a flickering floodlight. Gold crosses gleamed faintly on the surface, each one freshly carved with a diagonal scalpel marking, forming the new sigil of a twisted partnership.

Golden Cross + Scalpel.

A grotesque merger. One born from desperation, not loyalty.

Two robed figures stood guard by the crates, murmuring quietly between themselves.

"Another failed alliance…" one said, voice low and rough beneath his hood. "The boss won't be pleased."

The second scoffed. "You think it would last working with these pagans that can't see the light?"

"Still. Losing the distributor? Attention from rogue mutants? It's a mess. We were supposed to operate in the shadows. And then there's the one who's supplying us..."

A chill ran down both their spines as they thought about their brief encounter with that man, who, despite not being a mutant, was somehow even more intimidating than the Messiah they followed.

Isaac crouched low behind a stack of oil drums, narrowing his eyes as he eavesdropped.

'So it really was Nyx,' he came to the same conclusion as Kai. They had already assumed as much, and listening in on their conversation just confirmed it. But that was something they could find out more about another time.

'I need to take them down. Or at least delay them. If I can stop them from moving the drugs, it's something.'

He stepped out, his arm trembling slightly as he faced the two figures.

"Hey. Hands off the crates."

The robed mutants turned slowly.

The first lowered his hood, revealing a face stitched together like a patchwork doll - mottled flesh sewn with black thread, one eye a piercing green, the other a cloudy, cataract-ridden grey. He raised his hand, fingers splayed.

A deep rumble followed.

Cracks split across the dockside floor as stone tore free from beneath the metal plating, rising in jagged shards. The broken earth twisted unnaturally, fusing and reshaping until a massive, hulking golem emerged behind him, its form crude but powerful, standing almost three metres tall, arms like battering rams, glowing with faint heat from friction-born birth.

"Go away, little ghost," the mutant sneered, eye glowing with power. "You're out of your depth."

The second figure remained cloaked, but a thick, bubbling slime began to ooze from his sleeves, dripping to the floor in sticky globs. The goo hissed as it touched the ground, spreading unnaturally fast, coiling, thickening, pooling in tar-like puddles that pulsed with a strange life of their own.

"You can't phase forever," the second mutant hissed, his voice wet and gurgling. "Eventually, even ghosts get stuck."

Isaac's spine prickled.

'Two mutants. One summons a rock golem from the earth. The other floods the ground with goo like quicksand - thick, sticky, and spreading fast.'

He swallowed hard, lifting his fist despite the chill crawling into his bones.

"I don't need to beat you," he muttered, stepping back from the creeping slime. "Just slow you down."

The golem moved first, roaring as it charged. The dock groaned beneath its weight. At the same time, the slime-covered mutant waved his hand, and long strands of goo whipped out like tendrils, trying to pin Isaac's legs.

But Isaac's body shimmered, then vanished for a split second.

The golem's arm smashed through empty air. Goo splashed through his fading form, missing by inches.

He reemerged from the ground a few feet away, breath ragged, mind racing.

'Too close.'

The stone mutant slammed a fist into the ground. Shards of rock erupted upward like spears. Isaac phased again, his form shimmering faintly just before one could impale him.

He rolled to the side, just as the slime mutant flung another net of goo, its surface rippling with chemical sheen. He phased again. It passed through him, coating the crate behind.

'This is bad.'

Each attack was starting to miss by less, and he was struggling to keep up with his phasing.

The golem was relentless. The slime was everywhere. The two moved with disturbing coordination, cutting off escape routes, forcing him into tighter corners, faster reactions.

Isaac's heart pounded.

'I'm not winning this.'

He couldn't touch them. Couldn't risk a misstep. His phasing was precise, but exhausting. If they boxed him in, even once, that goo would pin him like a fly in amber. And the golem… it didn't miss twice.

"I just wanted to be like them…" he breathed, eyes darting between closing angles. "Useful. Brave. Something more than the side character who is only there for support."

Another stone spike erupted toward his chest.

He phased just in time, heart thundering, and made his call.

'If I can't fight… I'll steal.'

In a sudden blur of motion, Isaac dashed toward one of the large crates. Tendrils of goo lashed out. The golem roared. But his hand was already there, phasing partway into the crate, dragging it with him into ghost form.

The robed mutants shouted, lunging - one with hands blazing with summoned rock, the other flinging twin ropes of slime...

Too late.

Isaac vanished into the floor.

Silence swallowed the dock.

He surfaced in a forgotten sewer tunnel beneath the port, cradling the crate beside him. The world above was distant thunder. Down here, there was only damp, rust, and the sluggish drip of stale water.

He slumped against the wall, letting his body go slack.

A grin, tired but real, crept across his face.

"Okay… maybe that counts as useful."

The moment barely lasted.

The ground above shook, not like before. This was different. Bigger.

He phased upward, just enough to slip his head through the concrete.

The sky...

Exploded!

Light. Fire. Destruction.

The Messiah had unleashed his wrath.

Isaac's blood ran cold.

'What the-?!"

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