Chapter 33

Kalan Artun

As Officer Jude surveyed the dimly lit alley, his gaze fell upon the battered forms of Adom and Eren. With a heavy sigh, he turned to Helios, the tension between them palpable in the charged air. "Helios, can't we just let this one slide?" Jude said, his voice tinged with weariness. "I really don't fancy drowning in paperwork over this mess."

Helios, his expression unreadable, responded with a weight that seemed to hang in the air, "Gaius gave the order." The mere mention of the name 'Gaius' sent a ripple of shock through Artun, who had been observing the exchange with growing unease.

Artun, unable to contain his dismay, blurted out, "Sir, what's this all about? Don't tell me yo—" But before he could finish, Jude casually draped an arm around Artun's shoulders, cutting him off with a forced camaraderie that felt out of place in the grim alleyway.

"Ah, let me introduce our newest recruit, Kalan Artun," Jude announced, his grip on Artun a little too firm, a little too deliberate. "He's got the heart of a scout, so I'd ask you to overlook his naïveté."

Artun, caught off guard by the sudden spotlight, struggled to mask his shock, his thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief.

Helios, ever the predator, seized the moment to assert his dominance, his smile a thinly veiled threat. "Ah, new blood. They always come in with stars in their eyes, don't they?" His gaze locked onto Artun, sharp and probing. "But it's the smart ones, the ones who learn to swim with the current rather than against it, who really make something of themselves in this world."

The air grew heavier as Helios leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper directed at Artun. "Tell me, are you one of the smart ones?" The implicit threat in his question was clear, and the unspoken implication hung between them like a guillotine, ready to drop.

Artun, momentarily lost for words, could feel the weight of Helios's gaze, the expectation of submission, the demand for complicity.

Adom's mind was a whirlwind of strategy and desperation as he lay battered on the ground, his HP finally stable after what felt like an eternity of decline. The cries of Eren, filled with pain and fear, pierced the tense atmosphere, adding urgency to the already volatile situation. Artun's sudden outburst of defiance against Jude's restraining hand was a spark in a powder keg, his voice a mix of rage and desperation, "Get your hands off me, please!"

Jude's response was a menacing whisper, a warning cloaked in the guise of advice, "This isn't the time for heroics, boy. Drop the act, or you won't last long in this world." But Artun, fueled by a righteous fury, shrugged off Jude's grip with a jolt of determination and lunged towards Helios, his actions igniting the alley into chaos.

The gargoyle, ever vigilant, had already woven another barrier, a magical veil that shrouded their violent dance from the world beyond. The alley became a stage for a deadly ballet, the air charged with the raw energy of impending conflict.

Artun, with a fluid motion born of desperation and training, drew his gun, the metal glinting ominously in the dim light. His thumb caressed a rune etched into the barrel, a symbol that hummed with potential. Channeling his Essentia into the rune, he transformed the bullet into a harbinger of destruction, its very essence infused with explosive power.

The ogre, with a roar that shook the very stones, charged with brute force, its massive form a terrifying spectacle. The wolf-beastkin, sleek and lethal, moved like a shadow, its fangs bared in a feral snarl. The clash was immediate and brutal, a maelstrom of violence that left no room for mercy.

Artun's first shot was a thunderous declaration, the bullet tearing through the air with an enhanced ferocity that only magical augmentation could provide. The wolf-beastkin, quick and cunning, dodged with an agility that belied its savage nature, but not without cost. A graze from the explosive round sent it reeling, a harsh reminder of the stakes at play.

The ogre, undeterred by the threat of gunfire, advanced with relentless determination. Its massive fists swung with the force of a wrecking ball, each blow a potential death sentence. Artun, nimble and driven, evaded the crushing assaults with a dancer's grace, his movements a testament to his training and resolve.

In a moment of calculated risk, Artun aimed his next shot at the ogre's leg, the rune on his gun glowing with a fierce light as he channeled more Essentia into the impending shot. The bullet found its mark with a devastating impact, the explosion tearing through flesh and bone, grounding the behemoth with a howl of pain and rage.

The wolf-beastkin, seizing the opportunity, lunged with lethal intent, its claws and teeth a blur of death. But Artun was ready, his gun a steady extension of his will. The final shot was a masterpiece of desperation and precision, the bullet, supercharged with his last reserves of Essentia, found its way to the beast's heart, silencing its ferocity in a final, explosive act of defiance.

Artun's voice, raw and commanding, cut through the chaos, "Surrender now! Get away from the boys!" His demand was a clear ultimatum, the adrenaline and aftermath of battle lending weight to his words.

In the midst of the turmoil, Adom, battered and bruised, began to crawl, his body screaming in protest with every movement. Suddenly, a familiar voice echoed in his mind, a beacon of concern amidst the darkness. Bennu, his mystical companion, was reaching out, panic evident in his mental voice. "Adom, what's happening? I can feel your pain. Talk to me!"

Struggling to focus, Adom responded, his mental voice strained, "I'm in a bind, Bennu. Tried to save a kid from some thugs, and it all went south."

Bennu's panic intensified, "I'm coming to you!"

But Adom, even in his dire state, was adamant, "No, Bennu, you can't be seen. It's crucial."

Bennu's frustration was palpable, "I don't care about being seen!"

Adom, mustering every ounce of his fading strength, insisted, "Listen, I won't die. Not permanently, at least. It's futile for you to come, and it risks too much. I'll just make sure Eren gets out safely. That's what matters."

Bennu, sensing the resolve in Adom's voice, relented, though his worry was far from eased, "I understand, but I can't just stand by."

Adom tried to reassure him, "It'll be alright, Bennu."

Bennu's voice echoed in Adom's mind, a beacon in the tumultuous storm of his thoughts. "Remember to be careful."

In a moment of quiet understanding, a simple, seemingly inconsequential word from Bennu pierced the haze of Adom's thoughts. "Remember," Bennu murmured, the word laced with an unintended wisdom that resonated deep within Adom.

That single word, 'remember,' acted as a key, unlocking a floodgate of realizations. Adom's eyes widened as the pieces fell into place, the fog of panic and pain dissipating to reveal a clarity he hadn't felt since the battle began.

"Of course," Adom breathed, a slow smile spreading across his face, "I've been so focused on the fight, on surviving, that I forgot the ace up my sleeve..."

Bennu's confusion was palpable. "Ace? What are you talking about? Now's not the time for games, Adom!"

With effort that seemed to draw on his very essence, Adom summoned the interface of the status system, his eyes scanning the list of skills that he had, until now, neglected in the heat of battle. There, amidst the digital clarity of the system, lay his potential salvation.

"Bennu, I think... I think I might have a way out of this," Adom's voice grew stronger, fueled by the flicker of hope that the system's interface provided. "I just need to be smart about this."

Adom accessed the system, the interface materializing before his eyes in a familiar display. The window was clear, organized in a way that brought immediate clarity to his abilities and options:

[Flameheart Resonance] - [Level 1] Attribute: Temporarily grants the user access to 3% of the full power of the Phoenix. Enhances all physical and magical capabilities. Drawback: Prolonged use severely damages the user's body, as it is not yet capable of withstanding the full might of the Phoenix. Cooldown period of 1 month post-use. Usage: Unlimited, with caution advised due to potential bodily harm.

[Phoenix Rejuvenation] - [Level 1] Attribute: Instantly heals any physical wound, regardless of severity, by channeling the regenerative essence of the Phoenix. Limitation: Can be used once every 7 days. Does not consume Essentia.

[Aetheric Echo] - [Level 1] Attribute: Enhances the user's sensory perception and reflexes by resonating with the ethereal frequencies of the Phoenix. Advantage: Allows for heightened awareness and faster reaction times in combat or critical situations. Drawback: Sustained use may lead to sensory overload or disorientation.

As Adom reviewed the skills, a stark realization dawned on him. The system, a tool he had largely ignored, held immense potential that he had yet to fully explore or understand. The intricacies of each skill, with their respective advantages and limitations, offered a strategic depth he hadn't appreciated.

"User Adom," the system addressed him in its neutral, digital tone, "your attunement with Phoenix Bennu has unlocked unique abilities. Strategic utilization is recommended for optimal outcomes."

The shock of his oversight rendered Adom silent. The system, with its game-like interface and direct address, laid bare the extent of his neglect. The realization that he had access to such formidable skills, especially ones like 'Phoenix Rejuvenation' that didn't rely on his depleted Essentia reserves, was a paradigm shift.

Bennu's voice echoed in his mind, "Well, fuck me, I'll be damned."

"Language, Bennu." retorted Adom.

In the chaos of the alley, Eren cautiously approached Adom, his eyes wide with fear and concern. "Are you... still alive?" he stammered, voice barely above a whisper.

Adom, despite the agony that racked his body, nodded. With a herculean effort, he mustered the strength to speak, his voice a raspy echo of its usual timbre, "Wait... Trust me." His words were a lifeline, a promise in the midst of despair.

Meanwhile, Artun stood defiant, his anger boiling over as he faced Helios and his gang. The death of Cerut, one of the wolf beastkins, at his hands, and the crippling shot that left Talog, the ogre, writhing in pain had escalated the confrontation to a point of no return.

Helios, with a cold, mocking tone, turned to Jude, "Oi, Jude, your dog killed Cerut and wounded Talog. You do realize what this means, right?" His words were a thinly veiled threat, the implications hanging heavy in the air.

Jude's silence was telling, his expression a mix of anger and resignation, directed not at Helios but at Artun for the chaos he had unleashed.

Helios, undeterred by Artun's frantic warnings, advanced with a predator's grace. Artun, desperate and defiant, opened fire, his gun barking in rapid succession as he attempted to fend off the approaching menace. The alley turned into a frenzied battleground, Artun's gunfire creating a cacophony of echoes against the stone walls, while Helios, with supernatural agility, dodged each bullet as if dancing through shadows, his laughter a chilling soundtrack to the violence.

Helios's attacks were precise and cruel, each scratch and wound he inflicted on Artun was calculated to slow him, to weaken his resolve. The vampire moved with a disturbing ease, his every action a testament to his deadly prowess.

Artun, bloodied and battered, faced Helios with a gaze filled with undiluted hatred and fury. Helios, now perched horizontally on a wall in defiance of gravity, leisurely licked Artun's blood from his fingers, his chuckle a sinister sound in the charged silence. "Don't give me that look," he taunted, "You brought this upon yourself."

As Artun let his gun fall with a clatter, his hands began to crackle with electricity, a spell of considerable power gathering at his fingertips. Adom, despite his weakened state, could sense the buildup of energy, the air tingling with the promise of an impending clash.

Just as Artun was poised to unleash his electrified assault, and Helios prepared to deliver a potentially fatal blow, the unexpected happened. Jude, with a swift, precise movement, struck Artun at the back of the head. The impact was immediate and decisive; Artun crumpled to the ground, unconscious, his spell dissipating into the air like a snuffed flame.

Jude stood over Artun, his expression one of cold frustration, "Fucking stop," he growled, his voice laced with an authority that brooked no argument.

With the tension in the alley still thick, Jude turned to Helios, his voice carrying a weight of history and obligation. "Kalan is the son of Ash, my former teammate," he revealed, a solemn note in his voice hinting at deeper, unspoken stories. "I made a promise to protect him."

At the mention of Ash, Helios's demeanor shifted slightly, a single raised eyebrow betraying his recognition of the name. Ash was not a man easily forgotten, it seemed, even by the likes of Helios.

Jude, his tone firm yet diplomatic, continued, "I'll go see Gaius myself about this. We can sort it out. But let the boy go." His words were not just a request but a negotiation, spoken by someone who knew the intricacies of the dark world they navigated.

Helios, after a moment of contemplation, nodded subtly. "Very well, Jude. For old times' sake, we'll let this slide. But this isn't over," he warned, his voice low and dangerous.

Jude, with a heavy heart, lifted the unconscious Artun in his arms, casting a lingering glance at Adom and Eren. The look he gave them was complex, a mix of regret and unspoken apologies, before he turned and approached the magical barrier that cloaked their grim tableau from the world.

At Helios's signal, the gargoyle, its stony features impassive, gestured subtly, and the barrier began to dissipate, allowing Jude and Artun to pass through. They disappeared into it, leaving behind a charged silence.

Helios, turning back to Adom and Eren with a predator's grace, resumed his menacing stance. "Well, well," he drawled, his gaze fixed on the two boys. "Where were we, hm?"