“Where is that fucker…”

Furiously rounding a street corner, Brock heaved out an aggrieved sigh as he was met with only more street and no sign of their target. Harry caught up to him soon after, and upon eying the very same thing as Brock, groaned. They had been looking for the asshole that had scammed them for well over ten minutes, mainly following old aura traces, yet he had truly just vanished into thin air. No one they asked had seen him either.

Brock clicked his tongue and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Guess I’m never getting those Shards back.”

The failure of a businessman slumped his shoulders in defeat and began walking back the way they had come. Together, they’d travelled a fair distance in search of the French scammer, though the population still hadn’t dwindled in density. Even post-System, the city of Adelaide was still a bustling population centre.

Although Brock had noticed that he hadn’t seen any of the tactically geared peacekeepers in a long while, which was especially frustrating since now he needed them to do their bloody job. Like the scammer, they too had vanished into thin air. If it was anything at all, Adelaide was a strange place.

“I believe we’ve been bamboozled,” Brock announced aloud, his voice dripping satire.

In the end, the duo decided they may as well let the guy go and get on with their day. In relativity to Brock’s current funds, fifty thousand wasn’t at all a substantial amount, and he could make it back in a half-hour of killing a group of somewhat powerful beasts. Though in future, he would remain far more vigilant against intelligent thieves.

As they walked, Brock’s stomach growled like a feral beast, and he wondered when the last time he had eaten had been. It was this morning, if his enhanced memory wasn’t wrong. Either way, he was bloody starving, and after slight deliberation, Brock led his younger companion to a nearby park, to feast in the presence of its greenery.

He didn’t even like parks all that much. The idea just kinda… popped in his head.

It was a relatively desolate place, entirely devoid of sentient life, if you didn’t count the few unmutated feral cats prowling through knocked over rubbish bins. Over in the far corner of the place, the tip of a fallen skyscraper had crashed into the earth savagely, forming a plateau all the way to the base of the building it originated from, although it was fairly twisted and rusted and certainly hazardous to be near.

Together, they settled down in a nicer corner of the place - under the shade of a burly gumtree – and feasted upon the spoils of Jordan’s stockpiles. Brock had at least had the foresight to take more than enough food for the two of them. It had served them well in their trip, allowing them to neglect to ask for supplies from the already troubled towns.

Fortunately, it also meant they didn’t have to eat monster meat. They had tried the stuff, and while it was somewhat ‘edible’, it tasted like literal rat shit marinated in snake piss.

Brock felt oddly at peace in this deserted park, finding the absolute lack of background noise and human presence soothing to his drained social energy. After speaking to so many thankful people throughout the towns, he wanted nothing more than some peace and quiet. He had wanted human contact for so long during his time alone, and now he had it in spades.

That said, it was too quiet, and Brock nudged Harry as the boy gulped down a can of beans in one go.

“Do you reckon it’s… too quiet?” he whispered.

Harry donned a thoughtful expression before he blasted his aura outward. It was a trait of those past the realm of level 25, and Brock couldn’t wait for the added intimidation factor for himself. Plus, it was just plain cool. Instantaneously, two dozen or so armed men and women wearing the same tactical armour he’d seen before flickered into existence, the teenager’s aura disrupting whatever means had been cloaking them.

For a second, they looked dumbfounded, but quickly, their gazes hardened, and they pulled out various weapons, from daggers to bows to assault rifles. One bloke even armed himself with a spiked flail. Sighing as he edged his aura sense outward and felt the levels of the people, Brock stood, with Harry following suit a second afterwards.

“Yeah, pick on the guy with one arm.” The strongest man present snorted as he finished his mouthful.

No one present exceeded level 35, and while a few possessed the tell-tale aura solidity of an epic Ascendancy, the vast majority were utilising the far more common blue ones, or rare, as they had found them to be called. None of them had the faint presence of an Augment within them, and Brock knew immediately that it was going to be an easy fight.

He wasn’t even level 25, yet he was certain his stats far outmatched any of these people.

Harry looked to Brock for approval, and the man gave the kid a singular thumb up. Right after, the boy’s aura roared out in its full intensity, enveloping each and every opponent in the area and making them flinch where they stood.

Before they could even heft their weapons in defiance, Brock had flashed in front of the apparent leader at the head of the group, driving his only fist into his chest and sending him exploding backward, the Kevlar vest and the chest beneath caving in with a sickening crunch.

Then, all hell broke loose.

Dozens of throwing blades and arrows and even bullets swarmed through the air like a plague of locust, and the armoured soldiers charged forward, fervently swinging their blades at the two individuals they thought to be their opponents. Brock clicked his tongue as a few of the projectiles drew blood, one arrow even jamming itself into his thigh.

The bullets though, while he could sense that they were somewhat improved by an Ascendancy, bounced off him like rubber balls, leaving broken skin and red welts behind. Aside from that, it also hurt like hell when he got hit.

Brock didn’t even bother to look over at his companion as the first of their foes arrived upon him. Swiftly ducking under the swing of a sword, he snatched the spiked ball flying toward him out of the air and tugged, tearing the flail from the grasp of its user with a grunt. A moment later, the handle was whipping around and promptly smashing the sword wielder brutally across the face.

Her helmet and visor shattered as she was knocked to the ground and Brock rolled out the way as a volley of arrows and bullets bombarded his previous position. Before the flail user could even begin to retreat, he found his spiked weapon embedded in the back of his calf, the force behind the throw snapping his shinbone in two and pushing him down to the ground.

Immediately, a hammer bore down upon the beastly combatant from behind while an axe cut in toward his side as he once again got to his feet. Snorting, Brock gracefully spun out of harm’s way, listening as the hammer smashed into the axe and drove both weapons out of the hands of their masters.

Swiftly, Brock put his budding Agility of over 300 to good use, and he twisted around, catching the closest attacker with his foot and grimacing in sympathy as their kneecap crunched under the force, sending the man collapsing in screaming agony.

Idly, Brock glanced over, and saw that over on Harry’s side, the fight was far less brutal. It was rather shocking, since many hesitating soldiers had seemed to have decided to instead target the teenager rather than the monster shredding through their ranks with his bare hands. They all shuddered as one to think of what’d the man would be capable of with two arms instead of just one.

Though quickly, they found that their younger opponent was just as terrible as the latter option. His axe sung as it tore through the air, carving deep into the bodies of his attackers, ignoring the ballistic armour like it was merely plastic against a sharp pair of scissors. Soon, even those that had managed to stave off his overpowering blows began to realise that something was wrong.

A quick glance around showed that many had already fallen to grassy earth below, paralysed by some unseen poison. What had once been twenty-six was now reduced to just over half that.

Back to the main event, another arrow thumped against flesh, this time catching Brock in his back. Clicking his tongue, he snatched the next projectile out of the air, before hammering the tip through the wrist of an attacker as he dodged the clumsy strike from the man’s regained axe. He let go of the weapon, screaming, and Brock took it, immediately spinning around and lobbing it through the air at the ranged nuisance.

Barely, she avoided the weapon, shivering in fear as the tree behind her was obliterated into splinters. She barely managed to get to her feet before the monster of a man was once more upon her. Brock reacted to her sudden attempt at stabbing him by catchin-

Her blade skittered in between his ribs and the stump of Brock’s right arm flopped through the air ineffectually as he instinctively used it to block. She scrambled back fearfully as he cursed at the pain and yanked the blade out with his only hand. Sighing, he glanced around at the state of the fight, before slowly approaching the woman.

While he found it somewhat difficult to gauge what attacks will and won’t kill when he fought, Brock had managed to carefully tiptoe around the lives of the people present, striking with blows aimed at maiming and disarming rather than with the intent to kill. Don’t get him wrong, he’d kill if the time truly called for it, but these people were neither an actual threat nor did they even appear to be trying to kill him themselves.

Clearly, they were following orders. Most probably to test him.

“Please… please…” the woman wheezed out between shuddering breaths, and Brock’s shoulders slumped in relief as a presence finally made itself known several meters behind him.

Carefully, he threw the woman a reassuring thumbs up and spun around to face the newest arrival, although not before grabbing her bow and incinerating it with his Augment. A woman in a well-tailored suit stood silently across the battlefield, surveying the damage before meeting his eyes directly. It was a marginal movement, but he noticed her eyes widen at the use of his Augment.

“That’s enough. Everyone stand down.” She spoke, her voice tinged by an accent Brock couldn’t quite pinpoint.

The remaining soldiers immediately skittered away, and blessedly for them, neither Harry nor the ‘monster’ gave chase, letting them retreat to safety behind the woman, dragging their nearby wounded comrades with them. Those too far away were left for whatever fate had in plan for them.

Harry’s side of the fight was somewhat calmer than Brock’s own. While quite a few people had been sliced and diced viciously by his axe, although the wounds were nothing too life-threatening, even more were entirely untouched, lying still around him. His neurotoxin was extremely effective in situations where killing was to be avoided, speedily disarming enemies with the assistance of his Augment of Infection.

Beforehand, they had unanimously agreed that was most situations, save for those where they couldn’t afford to hold back.

An oppressive silence reigned over the park, and no one dared to move. It had devolved into a stare down between the two sides. Unyieldingly, Brock met the brown eyes of the clear leader of the soldiers. Briefly, the small ghost of a smile flickered across her face, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared.

The woman, aside from possessing a suit that made even Brock jealous, was of Korean descent, sporting a face of pale skin that was possibly one of the most stunning he’d seen in a long time. Her body was relatively voluptuous, although it was somewhat hidden by the unflattering angles of the suit. She radiated an aura of power, and upon closer inspection, Brock could sense she was at the precipice of breaking into level 50. It seemed humanity certainly wasn’t slacking off.

Abruptly, Brock felt an intrusion upon his very mind itself, and he struggled not to flinch. Play along.

Before he could even question the voice in his head, the woman spoke out, her voice melodious yet domineering, “You’ve done quite a number on my soldiers, I see.”

Brock caught the gleam in her eye and realised something was up. Somewhat reluctantly, he followed the craziness in his brain and ‘played along’, “It was an accident, I swear.”

He held his hands up innocuously, and she chuckled lowly, “Funny. Ari Ahnjong, at your service. Now why are you in my city?”

Any of the previous humour in her attitude fell away in an instant and her voice turned ice cold. Her aura billowed out in full, overshadowing the power of Harry’s own and even the solidity of Brock’s. Wherever this woman had found it, she had used a legendary Shard of Awakening. And judging by the foreign mental presence he felt in his mind, it had something to do with mental attacks.

Maybe even mind manipulation based on the whole cloaking shtick. Mind tricks. Illusions.

Brock licked his lips, feeling the weight of her power on his shoulders, although it was nothing compared to that of the Tyrant’s, “Just paying it a visit. Looking for my lost mother. The usual. You haven’t happened to see one Miss Maryanne Carter, have you?”

Ari quirked a brow up slightly but shook her head. Whether it was part of the act or not, Brock felt himself deflate a little, “Unfortunately, I have not. Now let me ask you something; what do you think the punishment should be for assaulting several of my peacekeepers?”

Her aura increased further in its intensity. Use your Augment and flee.

Brock furrowed his brows, but the aura continued to climb in pressure, and he looked deep into Ari’s eyes. Silently, they begged him to listen to the invasive voice in his head. To listen to her.

Clicking his tongue one last time, Brock mobilised the flow of his Augment of Sparks through his pathways and bathed the area directly in front of him in a wall of purely crimson flames, the flickers of violet having long disappeared. The raw heat was enough to make the surrounding flora wilt and die in moments, he heard the woman behind him squeal in pain as it scorched lightly at her skin.

Quickly, as the flame doused the area in a thick plume of smoke and dust, Brock grabbed Harry by the wrist and fled from the park, summoning out two bottles of water from his ring and pouring them over themselves as they skidded around a corner to rid them of the blood. Sopping wet, they blended into the crowd and followed the tide of the masses.

Glancing behind him, Brock felt confident they hadn’t been followed, nor did he suspect any of the people there were even willing to do so. Finally, the mental presence flared once more before disappearing, imparting a single image and a location directly into his mind.

If Brock wasn’t wrong, they were meant to be directions.