Breachers

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Pissing off Master Splinter

Day 110

Marcus drove his knee into the creature's face, the impact cracking bone and splitting flesh. It staggered back, thick blood dripping from its ruined snout, but its black eyes still burned with rage. With a guttural snarl, it lunged at him again.

He stepped aside, fluid, effortless. Its claws slashed at empty air. Before it could react, Marcus slammed a fist into its side. A sickening crunch echoed as fractures splintered through the hardened shell covering its ribs. The beast howled, stumbling, but it didn't let up.

It swung again—sloppy, desperate. He ducked, swept a leg under it, and sent it crashing onto its back. In the same motion, he grabbed its thick skull, twisted, and snapped its neck with a sharp pop.

Marcus exhaled through his nose, then stomped down on its head. Bone and cartilage gave way beneath his boot as gore splattered across the floorboards. He crouched, digging through the mess until his fingers found what he was looking for—a jagged piece of Glass, still warm from the creature's body. He wiped it off and slipped it into his pocket.

Straightening, he turned and spotted Julien perched on the charred remains of another one of the creatures. The husk still smoldered, faint wisps of smoke curling into the air. Julien cradled his new staff in one hand, watching Marcus with a relaxed smirk as if he'd been enjoying the show.

"I win again," Julien said with a grin before hopping off his smoldering kill. He landed with a casual bounce and strolled toward Marcus, spinning his staff once before resting it on his shoulder.

"Mine was bigger," Marcus countered, rolling his shoulders as he stepped over the creature's remains.

Julien snorted, mock outrage flashing across his face. "Fatter, maybe. My turtle boy was way taller. It just shrank because of the fire."

They wandered through the wreckage of the ruined store, shattered glass crunching underfoot as they stepped into the shopping mall's main corridor. The ceiling overhead had partially collapsed, exposing rusted beams and letting shafts of sunlight spill onto the cracked tile.

Distant bursts of gunfire echoed deeper inside, followed by Sebastian's maniacal laughter.

'Good to hear that the rest of the Salamander crew is still hard at work,' Marcus thought as he focused his senses for a moment, picking up on the footsteps and fighting in the distance, slowly identifying each person by sound alone.

"I think I visited this place once, when I was younger," Julien said, glancing around as they turned a corner. "Honestly? It hasn't changed much. It was shit back then as well."

The next store had been gutted—shelves overturned, mannequins shattered, walls scarred from past fights. But it wasn't empty.

A handful of monsters lingered inside, gnawing at scraps of furniture and metal clothing racks, their sharp teeth tearing through the remnants of a store.

Marcus stepped forward, hand tightening around the steel axe at his side. Before he could move, Julien grabbed his arm.

"Can we at least try that thing I suggested earlier?"

"No."

The creatures inside the store paused their gnawing, their black eyes locking onto the two of them.

"Come on," Julien pleaded.

"No."

The monsters straightened, growling as they crept closer, their torsos shielded by thick, uneven shells.

Julien leaned in. "I'll let you have their Glass."

Marcus exhaled through his nose, leveling a flat stare at him.

"Fine," Marcus said as he switched the axe to his left hand. He glanced around to make sure none of the Salamanders were nearby before stepping closer to Julien.

Julien grinned. "Try to at least enjoy yourself, alright? It's going to be fun."

He leveled his staff at the creatures, pressing his left hand near the tip, fingers spread wide. A flicker of fire ignited, swirling at the staff's tip before swelling, pulsing, growing into a seething sphere of heat and violent energy.

"Alright, your turn," Julien muttered, his voice tight with focus.

Marcus sighed, then placed his hand beneath Julien's. Within seconds, the bastard laced their fingers together in a way that felt unnecessarily sensual.

"Dude, really?" Marcus muttered, glaring at him.

Julien just chuckled.

"On three," he barked, turning his attention back to the approaching monsters, only to realize that they were closing in fast—too fast, causing him to rush through the countdown.

'Gale-blast.'

Mana surged through Marcus like an engine on the verge of explosion, his Marks flaring so violently it felt like his skin might split. The air twisted violently around his palm, a raw force compressing and amplifying as the wind shot forward, colliding with the fireball.

The sphere didn't just grow—it swelled, pulsed, devoured the air like a starving beast.

Then it exploded towards the monsters.

Marcus didn't see what happened next—within a heartbeat, the world became fire itself.

Light erupted, white-hot and merciless, consuming everything in a flash so blinding it felt like his skull had been hollowed out. Heat struck him like a war hammer, rolling over his body in a furnace blast that nearly singed the air from his lungs. The shockwave struck them with the force of a speeding truck.

Marcus barely registered the sensation of his feet leaving the ground before he and Julien were launched like ragdolls, smashing through debris, tumbling across the ruined mall floor until they finally crashed into a railing hard enough to make the metal groan. The breath in his chest fled on impact, pain lancing through his back as dust and smoke billowed around them.

His ears rang while his muscles screamed in protest.

For several long, disorienting seconds, his body refused to cooperate. His brain floated somewhere between reality and the void, trying to piece together what had just happened.

Then, slowly, sensation crept back.

He blinked, his vision struggling to focus, streaks of white and orange still burned into his retinas. A distant, static-filled whine filled his ears.

And beneath that—Julien's laughter.

Marcus forced his limbs to move, dragging himself upright, his body still reeling from the aftershock. He blinked again, forcing clarity back into his gaze.

And then he saw it. The store was gone. Not just destruction. Not just damage.

The entire structure had been erased, reduced to molten slag and skeletal steel, its foundations seared black, its walls shattered to crumbling ruins. Smoke still curled from the wreckage, the air itself warped from the sheer heat still radiating from what little remained.

The monsters were gone as well. Not just dead—annihilated. Only smears of charred gore clung to the blackened walls, a grotesque reminder that anything had ever existed there at all.

Marcus let out a slow, heavy breath, dragging a hand down his face as he took it all in.

'The Glass is gone too,' he realized, equal parts impressed and annoyed.

"Holy shit," he muttered, staring at the ruin before another piece of concrete broke loose and plummeted, shattering against the floor with a dead, lifeless thud.

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Julien coughed, spat out dust, then let out a breathless laugh as he rolled onto his side. "Okay," he wheezed. "That might've been a bit much."

"You think?" Marcus shot back, trying to sound pissed-off but failing halfway through. The sheer absurdity of what they'd just done made it impossible to keep a straight face.

Julien pushed himself upright, still grinning, and took in the ruined husk of what used to be a store. "I mean… it's effective," he admitted. "Not sure how team-friendly it is during a fight. But it hits, hard." He clapped Marcus on the shoulder. "Dude, if I had gotten that Chip and could do this on my own, I'd be swimming in guild offers. Maybe even handle dark-blue Spheres."

Marcus just stared at him, shaking his head. "Your ego's already maxed out. Push it any further, and your head might explode."

"It'd be worth it," Julien said, completely serious, before pointing ahead. "Let's do it again at the next store."

"No."

Marcus glanced around for his axe and spotted it buried deep in the railing next to him. He frowned, yanked it free, and eyed the damage—a dulled edge, a fractured notch along one side. He exhaled through his nose when he realized how close it had been to where he and Julien had landed. "That could've been bad."

They moved toward the next storefront, stepping through scattered rubble and scorched flooring. They soon spotted two creatures crouched behind a counter, unmoving. Their frames were too large to hide properly, thick shells jutting out over cheap display cases, but they weren't attacking.

Julien tilted his head. "Are they hiding?"

Marcus narrowed his eyes, watching them closely. "I mean, it's probably an ambush or something," he said.

"It almost feels like they're actually hiding. Like they're scared," Julien said.

"Could be the massive fireball you just threw at their friends with enough force to rival the fucking sun."

Julien snorted, looking way too pleased with himself. Instead of answering, he lifted his staff, flicked his wrist, and sent two small fireballs into the air. They hovered for half a second before splitting off and streaking toward the monsters, hitting them from the sides.

The creatures hissed, startled, lurching up from their cover.

Marcus was already moving.

He slammed into the one on the left, burying his dulled axe in its face. Bone cracked, flesh split, and the creature staggered back as he forced it to the ground. Its claws scraped at his steel armor, but he didn't let up, driving his knee into its chest to pin it down.

The second creature lunged, but a jet of fire slammed into its side, flames roaring to life across its body. It screeched, writhing as the heat consumed it.

The one beneath Marcus kept fighting, snarling even with the axe buried in its face. It clawed at him, struggling to push back, but he caught its wrists and squeezed—hard.

The shell around its arms splintered first, followed by bone, then flesh. The monster howled in agony, its body convulsing under him.

Marcus exhaled, let go, and planted his boot against the back of his axe as he stood. With one sharp kick, he drove the blade the rest of the way through its face, instantly killing it.

Julien strolled over, eyeing the creature's ruined head before giving an exaggerated shudder. "I'd hate to be that guy… or whatever turtle-thing that was."

He squinted at the remains for a second longer, then tilted his head. "You think these guys have a rat sensei to teach them martial arts?"

Marcus just stared at him in confusion.

Julien sighed, waving it off. "Forget it. You're not a man of culture," he said as he shook his head, then crouched and yanked out both Glass pieces, still slick with blood and gore. He wiped them off halfheartedly before passing them to him. "Is it just me, or have you gotten stronger… and faster?" His usual smirk lingered, but for a split second, his eyes tightened as he studied Marcus.

Marcus pocketed the Glass, feeling the weight of those eyes but pretending not to notice. "Just stopped holding back, that's all."

Julien didn't look convinced. "Right."

They held each other's gaze for a moment before Marcus spoke up again. "Like we agreed in our last Sphere, when I saved your ass, I'd rather not go into the details of my situation, alright?" Marcus finally said before he forced himself to smile. "Besides, think about it. The two of us can start tackling more dangerous—and more rewarding—Spheres on our own, right? Just imagine the credits."

Julien exhaled through his nose, then nodded. "I do like credits—like, a lot."

As they stepped out of the ruined store, Kay came sprinting toward them, his armor slick with blood. He slowed as he approached, eyes flicking to the blackened remains of the shop they'd obliterated earlier.

"Benedict says we're going back out. What the hell happened there?"

Marcus and Julien just stared at Kay before they answered at the same time.

"Hit a gas pipe."

"We found it like that."

They turned, locked eyes, then shrugged. In perfect sync, they looked back at Kay. "What he said."

- - -

The afternoon air had a bite to it, but Marcus barely noticed. After showering and getting dressed, he now stood with the others in the parking lot outside the Sphere's perimeter, the glow of their phone screens casting a soft light over their faces. Kay, Julien, Jessica, and Sebastian stood beside him, along with two other Breachers—familiar faces, though he didn't know them well. They were Jessica's friends, joining the Salamanders whenever they had time.

Benedict approached, his boots scuffing against the pavement. Without a word, he tapped each of their phones in turn, causing them to vibrate briefly as new bank transfers popped up on their screens.

Grins spread across the group as they checked their balances, murmuring about what to spend it on. Julien immediately started rambling about a vintage jazz album he wanted to purchase, while Jessica mentioned restocking ammo and buying a new gun.

Marcus barely heard them. His mind had already moved past the money itself and onto his plans—steel for old man Pete, pistons and motors, and a lot more mana-batteries for his robots.

One by one, the others peeled off, heading for their respective plans for what remained of the day. Marcus turned just as a familiar rumble echoed across the parking lot. Felix's truck pulled up, its old engine growling like an angry dog. True to his word, the guy had come to give him a ride.

He started forward but stopped as Benedict called out, "Marcus, hold up."

He turned to see the German man jogging toward him, a faint smile on his face. Benedict clapped him on the shoulder, his grip firm but friendly. "Fine work in there," he said. "You pulled in a lot of Glass today. Surprisingly so."

Marcus shifted his weight, not quite meeting his gaze. "Honestly, Julien gave me some after I won a bet. So the number's a bit inflated." He didn't like the way Benedict could sometimes look at people—like he could see straight through the bullshit and into their soul.

"That's kind of Julien. He's known for his charitable nature," Benedict said smoothly, the obvious shared lie barely concealed. His attention shifted toward the food truck in the distance. "I wanted to ask about your friend, Felix. How's he doing?"

Before Marcus could answer, Felix honked the horn and smacked the side of the truck impatiently.

"But I see he's doing rather well," Benedict noted, a hint of amusement in his tone. "Quite energetic, even."

Marcus smirked. "Yeah, the doctor said it was a clean fracture. The cast should come off in three or four weeks. Probably for the best, considering he's been scratching at it like a dog with fleas."

"Clean break, huh? Lucky him." Benedict waved at Felix. After a brief hesitation, Felix raised a hand in return, a little awkwardly. "Not so much luck for the Breachers who hurt him. Rumor has it that their fractures and other injuries were… more complicated."

Marcus's smirk faded. His tone hardened. "I wouldn't know." He met Benedict's eyes, unreadable as always. "You trying to say something?"

"Not at all," Benedict said smoothly, his expression unreadable. "I heard you were with your friend the entire time. Saw you get in the ambulance myself. Who am I to question that?"

His gaze flicked to the dark Marks on Marcus's face for just a second.

"Besides, the report said a strong Breacher was the one that hurt those people. Beta rank, at the very least. You don't fit that profile, even if you could be in two places at the same time."

Silence stretched between them.

Marcus stayed silent, not trusting himself to speak. He knew that anything he said would probably just make a deeper grave for himself to jump into.

Benedict studied him a moment longer, then gave a small, knowing smile. "Felix is lucky to have you as a friend. For what you did for—"

"I didn't do anything," Marcus interrupted, sharper than he meant to.

"You were there for him," Benedict said simply. "It shows character. Good friends are hard to come by." He patted Marcus's shoulder once more before stepping back. "Especially those who apparently have a mysterious Breacher looking out for them in the shadows. Let's hope, in time, you'll start to see me and my brother as friends as well."

He nodded, then turned, walking back toward his brother without another word.

Marcus stood there for a moment, watching him go, his thoughts tangled. He wasn't sure what Benedict actually knew—if he was just making a point or if he was genuinely onto something. Either way, the unease in his gut refused to settle.

Felix honked again, this time leaning on the horn longer.

Shaking his head, Marcus exhaled and made his way to the truck, climbing in and tossing his gear into the back.

Marcus shook his head, exhaling as he climbed into the truck and dumped his gear in the back. "You called?"

Felix gave him an innocent look before giving him a once-over. "Still alive, huh?"

"Yup."

"Good on you. I mean, I lost five credits in a wager, but good on you."

The truck lurched forward as Felix pulled out, coming dangerously close to a parked car.

"I had the weirdest shift today. How about you?" Felix asked.

Marcus leaned back against the seat. "Fought a bunch of turtle creatures in an old mall. Killed one of them with my bare hands. Got some brain matter in my mouth at one point. Probably swallowed some. Watched a one-armed German Breacher drown a turtle monster in the flooded section of the lower mall to prove to his brother that 'turtles' can breathe underwater. They can't, by the way. And I nearly got killed by my own axe during an explosion."

Felix blinked. "Well, I mean… my day wasn't the same, but I got stressed out too. Ran out of buns halfway through my shift and had to improvise. Stressful shit."

Marcus snorted. "My god, no buns? The horror." He laughed—the kind of laugh that was equal parts encouragement and insult, the hallmark of true friendship.

Shaking his head, he grabbed his bag and fished out his phone. A new email notification blinked on his screen.

┏ ┓

"Specter and I want to do a trial run with the new wolves.

Meet us at the Batcave tonight. Bring batteries. "

-Bastion

┗ ┛

Marcus sighed, deleted the email, then sank further into his seat and tossed the phone onto the dashboard.

"Was that Miss Muffin?" Felix asked, grinning.

Marcus jabbed a finger into his ribs, causing his friend to nearly jump out of his seat with a sharp hiss and a flurry of curses.

"Nope. Worse. Work," he grumbled. "Also, you mind dropping me off somewhere? I need to do some shopping. Breacher stuff."

He knew it was a good idea to test the new upgrades on the robots, and with five Orbs now, things were looking up. They were getting closer to being properly overpowered. But it also meant he'd be blowing most of his freshly earned credits on mana-batteries again. Worse, he'd probably get saddled with another load of Glass from the dead zone or nearby Spheres. He could almost already feel the pain forming in his chest.

"No problem. And about work being worse," Felix said, his grin widening as he placed a slow, deliberate hand on the car radio.

Marcus frowned. "What about it?"

"You do remember that you promised to help me out tomorrow morning, right?"

Marcus's expression twisted with regret, frustration, and the slow, painful realization that he had, in fact, made such a promise.

Felix cranked up the volume, drowning out Marcus's grumbling with obnoxious salsa music—all while grinning.