CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE - COLIN

Colin Wallis had finally tracked down Shatterbird.

The faint hum of his visor alerted him to her presence before his eyes did. Glass dust hung heavy in the air, shimmering faintly in the slanted sunlight filtering through the ruined high-rise. His halberd was steady in his grip, its faint energy glow casting long shadows against the broken walls.

“She’s in there,” he muttered, barely loud enough for Battery to hear.

Battery stood a step behind him, quiet, her usual composure replaced by something far harder to read. Her helmet obscured her face, but her tense posture betrayed her. Armsmaster didn’t press her—not yet.

“Standard approach,” he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I engage, you flank. Keep the pressure on her. No holding back.”

Battery hesitated just a fraction of a second, then nodded. “Understood.”

Armsmaster didn’t buy it. Something was off with her. Battery wasn’t performing at her usual level, and it wasn’t just fatigue. Her timing had been off in their last encounter, her hesitation costing them a decisive blow. That wasn’t just concerning—it was dangerous.

She was usually so dependable—a teammate he could trust to follow through. But Shatterbird was their priority, so he filed the observation away, focusing on the task at hand. Whatever was going on with Battery would have to wait.

The two heroes moved in silence, their boots crunching softly over shattered glass. The ruined office building loomed above them, its skeletal frame creaking in the wind. Shatterbird’s handiwork was everywhere—windows blown out, walls stripped bare, the floor littered with sharp, glittering debris. Armsmaster tightened his grip on his halberd, his every sense on high alert.

A soft, melodic hum echoed through the building. Armsmaster froze, signaling for Battery to do the same, and shifted his halberd into a defensive configuration. The weapon’s blade gleamed with a faint plasma glow, ready to deflect incoming projectiles.

The sound grew louder, richer, until it filled the air like the opening notes of a symphony.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Shatterbird’s voice rang out, carrying from somewhere above. “I’ve always thought destruction has a kind of music to it.”

Armsmaster didn’t respond. He crouched low, scanning the upper floors through the cracked ceiling. A faint movement caught his eye—a shimmer of light reflecting off glass.

“Third floor, northeast corner,” he whispered to Battery. “I’ll draw her fire. Be ready to move.”

Battery nodded again, but the action seemed distracted. Armsmaster noticed but didn’t comment. He couldn’t afford distractions.

Instead, he fired a grappling line, the hook embedding itself in the exposed beams above. The motor whined softly as it pulled him up, and Shatterbird’s laughter greeted him as he ascended to the ruined floor.

“You again,” she said, her tone mocking. She stood in the center of the room, glass shards orbiting her like a deadly halo. “Persistent, aren’t you?”

“Shatterbird. Surrender now, and we can avoid further destruction,” Armsmaster said, raising his halberd. The weapon’s systems hummed as it locked onto the faint heat signature ahead. “This is your last warning.”

Shatterbird tilted her head, amused. “You don’t sound convinced.”

She swept her arm, and a wave of glass surged toward him. Armsmaster braced himself, spinning his halberd in a wide arc. The blade intercepted the shards, shattering them mid-flight. He surged forward, closing the distance between them.

Battery was nowhere to be seen.

“She’s not coming,” Shatterbird taunted, as if reading his mind. “Your little partner has doubts. I saw it in her eyes.”

“Shut up,” Armsmaster growled, swinging his halberd in a downward strike. Shatterbird dodged, her movements graceful, almost lazy.

“Did you notice it too?” she continued, circling him. “The hesitation, the uncertainty. She’s hiding something from you.”

Armsmaster didn’t answer. He couldn’t let her get in his head. His swings grew faster, seemingly more wild, forcing her to retreat step by step.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Battery. She was crouched near the edge of the floor, her body tense, her fists clenched.

“What are you waiting for?” Armsmaster barked.

Battery didn’t respond.

Shatterbird took advantage of his distraction, sending another wave of glass shards at him. He deflected most of them, but a few slipped through, creating more cuts in his armor. He hissed in pain, red flashing across his HUD as damage warnings lit up.

“Pathetic,” Shatterbird sneered.

Armsmaster gritted his teeth, his visor tracking her movements. He needed an opening—a moment to disable her without relying on Battery’s unreliable help.

“Battery, focus!” he shouted. “We don’t have time for this!”

“I’m trying!” she snapped back, but her voice was strained.

Shatterbird smirked, her gaze flickering between the two heroes. “This is almost too easy,” she said, her tone mocking. “I expected more of a challenge.”

Armsmaster’s frustration boiled over, and in lieu of a response, he focused on the adjustments he was making to his halberd. The circuitry buzzed faintly as he switched its functionality. The EMP pulse might not be enough—her manipulation relied on physical phenomena like sound and vibration, which weren't directly affected by EMPs. But this… This electric field had potential. The intensity climbed, a soft crackle accompanying each adjustment.

He needed to time this perfectly. The swirling shards were the real threat; without them, Shatterbird’s ability to maintain control of the fight would plummet.

Shatterbird raised her arms, and a wave of the razor-edged shards surged toward him, cutting through the air with a shrill whine.

Armsmaster lunged to the side, narrowly avoiding the brunt of the attack, and braced himself, activating the halberd’s electricity field. A low hum built up, rippling outward in a faint distortion around the weapon’s blade.

He slammed the halberd into the ground.

A pulse of crackling electricity erupted from the weapon, enveloping the immediate area and colliding with the storm of glass. For a brief moment, the shards froze mid-air, their controlled movement disrupted. Some shattered outright, while others scattered chaotically, their trajectories jerking wildly as if caught in a crosswind.

The disruption gave Armsmaster his opening.

“Now, Battery!” he barked.

From the side, Battery became a blur of motion, charging in with all the power she’d been storing. For a moment, as Armsmaster watched her close the distance, her fist cocked for a devastating punch, he thought she would hesitate again.

She didn't.

Battery’s punch connected with Shatterbird’s side with a force that rippled outward, sending a loud crack through the air. Shatterbird let out a sharp cry, her body tumbling back as her control weakened even further, the shards falling to clink against the shattered ground.

Armsmaster kept his halberd raised, the electricity field still crackling, scattering any glass that dared to reform into a coherent shape. “Stay on her!” he commanded.

Battery hesitated for half a heartbeat, her stance shifting as if she were bracing for something more. But then she charged again, moving faster this time, her fist glowing faintly with the residual energy still coursing through her system.

Shatterbird snarled, twisting mid-air to regain her composure. Her arm shot out, and the lingering shards still hovering around the battlefield whipped toward Battery in a desperate strike. Battery veered to the side, the motion a little too late; the shards grazed her costume, tearing at the material and drawing fresh streaks of red across her skin.

But she didn’t stop. She didn’t falter. Battery drove forward, forcing Shatterbird to retreat further, her movements frantic and uncoordinated now.

Armsmaster pressed the advantage, surging forward with his halberd raised. With a single, precise motion, he activated the halberd’s grappling hook, the device shooting forward and latching onto Shatterbird’s ankle. Before she could react, he yanked her downward, disrupting her flight.

She hit the ground with a sharp thud, the glass storm around her collapsing entirely. For a moment, the battlefield was silent, save for the faint whine of Armsmaster’s grappling hook retracting into place and the labored breathing of both heroes.

Shatterbird struggled to rise, her hands clawing at the ground as if trying to summon the glass back to her aid. But the shards lay still, scattered and inert, her control over them hampered by her apparent exhaustion.

Armsmaster approached, his halberd pointed directly at her chest. “It’s over,” he said, his voice low. “Surrender.”

Shatterbird tilted her head up to look at him, her mask cracked from the impact. A faint smile tugged at her lips, though her breaths were shallow. “You think… you’ve won?” she rasped, her tone dripping with mockery.

Battery stepped closer, her fists clenched tightly, her stance rigid. Armsmaster noticed the faint tremble in her frame, the conflict still simmering beneath the surface.

Shatterbird’s smile widened, her eyes flicking toward Battery. “I see it in you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “The doubt. The guilt.” She coughed, blood flecking her lips. “You’ll hesitate again. And next time… someone will die because of it.”

Battery flinched, her jaw tightening as her gaze dropped to the ground.

Armsmaster didn’t waver. He shifted his grip on the halberd, the tip sparking faintly as he kept it leveled at Shatterbird. “Keep talking,” he said coldly. “It won’t change the outcome.”

Shatterbird laughed weakly, the sound grating and hollow. “Oh, but it already has,” she murmured, her gaze fixed on Battery. “You—”

Before Shatterbird could say another word, Armsmaster—with a swift, calculated motion—brought the butt of his halberd down on the side of her head, her body going limp and collapsing into the glass-strewn ground. The strike was enough to render her unconscious without causing permanent damage.

Armsmaster stood over her for a moment, ensuring she was fully out.

"Don’t listen to her," he said flatly, noticing the way Battery’s breathing was too uneven for someone merely catching their breath.

“Battery,” he repeated sharply, stepping forward to get her attention. “We don’t have time for this.” His tone brooked no argument.

She blinked, her head snapping toward him, as if emerging from a fog. “Right,” she said quickly, her voice tight. “Let’s move.”

Armsmaster turned without another word, trusting her to follow. Shatterbird was down, but this wasn’t the end—not by a long shot.

Dragon’s voice crackled through his comms. “Armsmaster, update. Simurgh is approximately fifteen minutes out. Containment crews are en route, but they won’t arrive before she does.”

Armsmaster’s jaw tightened. Fifteen minutes. Shatterbird’s takedown had been a victory, but the looming threat of the Simurgh turned it into little more than a prelude to the real challenge.

It wasn't something they could face head-on—not without preparation, not without backup. And even then, this wasn't a fight he expected to walk away from. But he wasn't about to let his city down. Not now, not ever.