The air cracked with tension.
Ethan stood still, his voice low—cold and steady.
"I'll ask one more time."
The mercenary didn't respond. Instead, he spun suddenly, his leg lashing out in a sweeping arc. A burst of purple electric current surged from his foot, trailing lightning through the air as it carved toward Ethan.
CRACK!
The kick connected.
Ethan barely moved his chin in time, but the arc still slammed into the side of his face. His body whipped to the side and skidded across the concrete, boots scraping the ground as he rolled to a stop several feet away.
The mercenary didn't press. He stood breathing heavily, knuckles crackling with electricity, but behind the flickering glow… there was uncertainty. Doubt. He had landed the first blow—but something about the boy, something he couldn't put into words, unsettled him.
And that fear was about to be justified.
From his stance, Ethan flicked his fingers, sending silver pins flying forward—sharp, precise, fast enough to pierce armor. But it wasn't about killing.
It was to weaken. Cripple.
Tink-tink-tink—!
Before the needles could land, the man slammed his palms together. A ring of purple light surged out, forming a shockwave shield so dense that it shattered the light fixtures overhead. Sparks and glass fell like rain.
BOOM—!Fzzzzzt…
The corridor fell into darkness.
From down the tunnel, the team leader's comms buzzed to life. Static. Then—
"Sounded like it came from the left! Move, now!"
Guards positioned near the exit heard it too. One immediately picked up the radio.
"We've got a disturbance. Possible combat in Sector B-3. Requesting backup. Repeat—requesting immediate backup."
Back in the darkness, Ethan stood—elbow scorched where he'd blocked the first strike. Faint electric sparks danced across his forearm, fading as he rotated his shoulder.
Then—
Shiiing!
From the dimensional space at his hip, Ethan drew his twin blades, their edges gleaming with faint runes that shimmered even in the absence of light.
The mercenary's eyes flashed violet, pure electricity surging down his arms and legs.
And then—
He charged.
Like a cannonball wrapped in lightning, he dashed forward with blinding speed, the force of his step sending cracks across the floor tiles.
Ethan had barely raised his stance when the first punch landed.
CRASH!
The blow crashed into Ethan's side, lifting him off the ground and hurling him into the tunnel wall. Concrete split behind his back as he crashed down, coughing blood—but still gripping his blades.
He tried to rise, but the mercenary lifted one arm. From his palm, a long electric whip snapped into form—writhing and crackling with voltage.
ZAP—!
It lashed forward, catching Ethan by the waist and pulling him violently toward the man.
But—
Just before the next attack landed—
Ethan twisted mid-air. His body moved like smoke. He dropped low under the next kick and spun, his dagger still clutched tight. With a fluid motion, he brought his leg up in a mid-air kick, his heel slamming into the mercenary's chest.
THUD!
The mercenary stumbled backward, his grip faltering on the whip as sparks danced across the floor.
Ethan dropped into a crouch, blood on his lip but eyes sharp—burning with quiet fury.
More footsteps echoed in the distance. Guards.
"Who the hell's down there?!"
"Move in! Keep the exits locked!"
Back in the tunnel, the mercenary exhaled sharply. His aura surged, electricity climbing the walls like vines. But even with all that power…
He could feel it.
Darkness danced with flickers of purple light.
Ethan's eyes narrowed—his grip firm on the twin daggers. Without hesitation, he threw them forward, the spinning blades slicing through the charged air like silver comets.
The mercenary leaned aside—one blade scraped his shoulder, the other missed by inches.
But Ethan was already in motion.
He ran forward, fast, low, and relentless. His fists launched into a flurry of strikes—**left jab, right hook, elbow, knee—**each hit aimed with deadly precision. The mercenary backpedaled, blocking with forearms charged in electricity, sparks flying with each impact.
He pressed harder, body aching, adrenaline roaring through his veins—but then—
"Enough."
The man planted both feet and slammed his fists together.
BOOOOOM!!!
A massive electric shockwave exploded outward—ripping through the tunnel like a hurricane of voltage.
The light fixtures above burst into fireballs, glass and wire raining from the ceiling.
Panels blew out.Pipes rattled.**Every electric gadget—radios, watches, goggles—**flickered, sparked, and then died in an instant.
Even Ethan's system faltered.
[SYSTEM DAMAGE DETECTED][Health: 15/95][Nervous System Overloaded. Consciousness: Unstable]
Moments later, the rest of the mercenary team arrived, sprinting, dust choked the air. The LED bulbs were shattered. Sparks sizzled on broken cables.
Ethan lay on the ground, barely breathing.
"Is he dead?"
The man who had fought Ethan shook his head, electricity still humming in his fingertips.
"No. Not even close. But he's out. And the base is alert… we triggered every damn sensor. We need to move—quietly. Our job's done."
But they were too late.
Alarm klaxons began to wail in the distance.
"SQUAD ALPHA—SECURE TUNNEL LEFT!"
"EYES ON TARGETS—EQUIP NON-LETHALS!"
The mercenaries froze.
They were surrounded.
Smack in the middle of everything.