Streets of Ravetham

The sun blazed overhead, casting sharp shadows as Mason, known to the world as Red Dot, stood outside the Justice Guild HQ. His tactical visor scanned the towering building, feeding him real-time data on its structural integrity and potential threats. Reports of a disturbance within the building had drawn his immediate attention, but this was no routine mission.

Next to him, Warptor materialized in a flicker of dark energy. “It’s deep in the lower levels,” Warptor said, his voice sharp. “I can sense the disturbance.”

Mason gave a single nod, already piecing together a strategy. His advanced suit, powered by the Eternal Energy Storage system, ensured that any technological disruptions wouldn’t affect him. Unlike others who relied on the building’s grid or external power, Mason’s gear functioned autonomously, untouchable by outside interference.

“Teleport us in,” Mason ordered, his tone calm but firm.

Warptor grinned, flexing his sharp claws. “You got it. Hold tight.”

With a blink, they vanished from the sunlit street and reappeared in one of the HQ’s secured corridors. The atmosphere was eerily silent. No alarms, no voices—just an oppressive stillness. Mason’s sensors flared with life, detecting energy distortions up ahead, and he was ready.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall. Mason and Warptor turned to see several security guards rushing toward them, weapons raised. These weren't ordinary guards—they were under the influence of whatever anomaly had invaded the building.

Without hesitation, Mason moved. In a blur of motion, he drew his custom pulse rifle and fired precise, lethal rounds, each shot disabling a guard in rapid succession. Warptor darted in and out of existence, teleporting behind stragglers and knocking them out cold before they could fire back.

“No witnesses,” Mason muttered, reloading as the last guard fell.

As they continued their descent deeper into the heart of the Guild, Mason’s visor pinged an anomaly ahead. The air grew heavy with static, and an electric hum resonated from the floor beneath their feet. The hum intensified, and in an instant, the ground erupted with arcs of lightning. A swirling mass of crackling energy formed before them.

It coalesced into the shape of Aquila. Its massive wings flared, sending currents of electricity snaking along the walls, the room bathed in an eerie yellow glow.

Mason’s reflexes were faster than the creature’s full manifestation. In one smooth motion, he pulled out his custom pistol, a magnet-bullet loaded and ready. With perfect precision, he fired. The bullet sailed through the air and embedded itself in the half-formed body of Aquila, disrupting its energy. A violent screech echoed as the thunderbird crashed into the wall, pinned and crackling as the magnet bullet tore through its form.

Warptor chuckled, impressed. “Wish I could use guns. Claws get in the way. I would’ve sent that bird flying long ago.”

Mason holstered his weapon without a word, eyes still scanning the area. “Let’s keep moving. The real threat’s close.”

They pressed on, bypassing the Guild’s high-tech security systems with ease. Mason’s suit and gadgets neutralized any threat, from automated laser turrets to biometric lockouts, while Warptor teleported them through walls and obstacles with practiced finesse.

At last, they stood before a heavy steel door—impenetrable by conventional means, but it wouldn’t stand long against Warptor.

“Easy work,” Warptor smirked, his claws ready to tear through dimensions as he prepared to teleport them through.

In a blink, they were inside.

The room beyond hummed with a strange, dark energy. Mason’s sharp gaze locked onto two figures. Glitch stood frozen, her form distorted and translucent as if she wasn’t fully in this reality. But next to her stood Patch, and something was horribly wrong. His skin was deathly pale, eyes sunken, body limp as though caught between life and death.

Mason’s grip tightened on his rifle. “Patch,” he said evenly, “what happened?”

Patch’s voice was weak, barely a rasp. “I’d ask you to kill me, Red Dot… but I’m already dead. Cold… not breathing… but I’m still here. I don’t think Delphinus even knows what he did to me.”

Mason’s mind raced. Patch wasn’t a mindless husk, as some undead were. He was still conscious, aware—yet trapped in a body that had long since stopped functioning. A rare phenomenon, perhaps tied to powerful dark magic or mana.

“If you’re still yourself, that’s what matters. But why haven’t you and Glitch escaped?”

Warptor’s growl cut through the tension. “Because Glitch isn’t here,” he said, narrowing his eyes at the frozen figure. “That’s just an illusion. She’s not in this plane anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Mason demanded.

Warptor crossed his arms. “She’s phased out, trapped in some other dimension. I might be able to bring her back… but there’s a risk.”

Mason didn’t hesitate. “Do it.”

Warptor reached into the feathers lining his wings, pulling out a glowing crystal infused with his dimensional energy. Charging it with his power, he hurled it at Glitch.

The crystal struck an invisible barrier, sparking as it fought to break through. Then, with a violent shockwave, the room exploded in energy. Mason was thrown back, crashing into the wall, his visor flickering as his suit absorbed the impact.

When the dust settled, Mason’s heart sank. The room was partially destroyed, and Glitch, Patch, and even part of the floor—were gone.

Warptor groaned, pulling himself up. “Well… distortion’s gone. Bad news, so are Patch and Glitch.”

Mason’s eyes narrowed. “Where did they go?”

Warptor’s expression darkened. “They’re lost in time, Red Dot… just like I once was.”

Meanwhile, outside the Black Fang Club, Ragnar’s weakened form stumbled through the streets. His wolf body was battered, blood oozing from bullet wounds. His muscles screamed in pain, but he pressed on, Kaelen’s trail pulling him forward.

Too weak to shift back into his druid form, Ragnar collapsed near the club entrance, his strength nearly gone. He let out a few weak barks, hoping someone would hear before it was too late.

The door opened, revealing a high elf maid. Ragnar’s vision blurred as he collapsed at her feet, darkness closing in around him.

For now, he had done all he could.