The Hudson River Gateway dumped them into what looked like a flooded subway tunnel from hell.
Alex's boots splashed into ankle-deep water that glowed with an eerie phosphorescent sheen. The air tasted of copper and decay, filtered through his rebreather into something merely unpleasant instead of potentially lethal. Overhead, rusted pipes dripped something that definitely wasn't water, and the walls were covered in a fungal growth that pulsed with its own diseased rhythm.
"Charming," Sarah muttered, ice crystals already forming around her fingertips as her body instinctively prepared for combat.
"Movement ahead," Tom reported, his enhanced senses cutting through the dungeon's interference. "Thirty meters, standard tunnel rats. Maybe eight of them."
Alex activated his primary camera, the AR overlay painting targeting reticles and threat assessments across his field of vision. The military surplus gear wasn't as fancy as what the big guilds used, but it got the job done. His recording drones deployed silently, taking up flanking positions to capture multiple angles.
"Standard formation," Marcus said, drawing his sword. The blade caught the sickly light and seemed to drink it in, the enchanted metal humming with contained energy. "Sarah, ice walls on the side passages. Tom, call out any surprises. Lisa, stay behind Sarah's cover."
"What about me?" Alex asked, though he already knew the answer.
"You film. And you stay alive."
The team moved forward with practiced efficiency. Alex had watched them work dozens of times, but he never got tired of seeing professionals in action. Sarah's ice walls sprouted from the tunnel floor like crystalline trees, blocking potential flanking routes. Tom's awareness swept ahead like an invisible net, mapping threats and safe zones. Marcus led from the front, his sword ready but not yet raised – no need to waste energy on posturing.
And Alex followed, his camera capturing every detail. The way Marcus's footwork adapted to the uneven tunnel floor. How Sarah positioned herself to maximize her ice barriers' defensive value. The micro-expressions that crossed Lisa's face as she calculated healing priorities and mana expenditure.
The tunnel rats hit them exactly where Tom had predicted.
They came out of the water like furry missiles, their bodies the size of small dogs but moving with the speed of striking snakes. Red eyes gleamed in the phosphorescent gloom, and their teeth looked like they could chew through steel cable.
"Contact!" Marcus shouted, his sword coming up in a defensive stance.
Alex's camera tracked the action automatically, the AR system highlighting movement vectors and combat dynamics. This was the easy part – E-rank monsters, standard tactics, nothing that would challenge the team.
But what happened next made Alex's breath catch.
Marcus's sword technique was... different. Not different enough that the casual viewer would notice, but Alex had filmed Marcus's combat style for three years. He knew every move, every stance, every preferred combination.
This wasn't Marcus's usual efficient, textbook swordplay.
This was art.
The blade moved in a perfect arc, lightning-fast but somehow fluid, like it was cutting through time itself. The tunnel rat that had been diving for Marcus's throat simply... stopped. Divided neatly in half, its momentum carrying the pieces past Marcus's position to splash into the contaminated water.
Lightning Slash.
Alex had never seen Marcus use that technique before. Hell, he'd never seen anyone use that technique before. It was too clean, too perfect, like something out of an S-rank highlight reel.
"Nice one, boss!" Sarah called out, her ice spears skewering two more rats with surgical precision.
Marcus just nodded, but Alex caught something in his expression. Surprise? Like he hadn't expected the technique to work quite that well.
The remaining tunnel rats died quickly, efficiently. Tom's enhanced senses guided the team's attacks, Lisa's support buffs kept everyone at peak performance, and Sarah's ice barriers funneled the monsters into Marcus's kill zone.
Standard 2-star dungeon tactics. Textbook execution.
Except for that one moment. That one perfect, impossible cut.
"Clear," Tom announced, his awareness sweeping the area for hidden threats.
"Nice work, everyone," Marcus said, sheathing his sword. "Alex, how'd that look on camera?"
"Good footage," Alex replied automatically, but his mind was racing. Had he imagined it? Had the poor lighting and phosphorescent water played tricks on his eyes?
He pulled up the camera's replay function, scrolling back to Marcus's technique. The AR overlay had tracked the sword's movement, recorded the strike speed, analyzed the cut angle.
Strike velocity: 47.3 meters/secondTechnique classification: UNKNOWNCombat efficiency: 97.8%
Alex stared at the readout. Forty-seven meters per second was fast. Really fast. B-rank fast, but on the very upper end of B-rank capabilities.
And "technique classification: unknown" meant the camera's database – which contained records of virtually every documented combat technique used by registered Awakened – had never seen anything like it.
"You coming?" Sarah called. The team was already moving deeper into the tunnel, following Tom's directions toward the main chamber.
"Yeah, just... checking the footage quality," Alex said, closing the replay window and hurrying to catch up.
But as they moved through the phosphorescent gloom, Alex couldn't shake the feeling that he'd just witnessed something important. Something that didn't fit the neat categories and predictable patterns he'd spent three years documenting.
The tunnel stretched ahead of them, water dripping from rusted pipes and fungal growth pulsing like a diseased heartbeat. And somewhere in the darkness beyond, something was waiting.
Something that would make Marcus's mysterious technique look like child's play.
To be continued...