Breachers

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

The Price of Power

Day 113

The gym felt half-abandoned, half-reclaimed. Sunlight bled in through boarded-up windows, cutting through dust that never quite settled. Most of the space was taken over now by tools, cables, metal limbs, and half-assembled machines.

Kate sat on a beat-up camping chair near the wall, showing one of the nameless robots how to use her drone. "That's the hover mode. Bottom right is the battery. If it glows red, you've got about five minutes to get it the hell out."

The robot nodded once, stiffly. Its hands clicked as it mimicked the motion—jerky, but getting there.

Specter leaned against the wall nearby, idly turning a small knife in his remaining hand.

"By the way, why are you so interested in my drone?" Kate asked, glancing up at it.

"Just curiosity for now," Specter said, lenses flickering again—almost like a smirk. "I'd like for us to be comfortable enough with drone control that it feels normal… natural."

Kate gave it a look, clearly not buying the explanation. "Don't tell me you guys are planning to make flying drones with a chunk of your creepy hive-mind slapped inside."

Specter just stared at her. Silent.

"Well?" she said, voice edged with annoyance.

"What? You asked me not to tell you anything."

Kate sighed, rubbing her forehead. "You're all weird," she muttered, shaking her head. "Every last one of you."

Further back, Cypher crouched beside Bastion. They were both knee-deep in bolts and metal parts, the shell of a new robot sprawled out on the floor like a body mid-autopsy. Bastion tightened a bolt along the shoulder housing. Cypher fed in a new piston. The click of tools filled the silence. Not hurried, but focused.

Then, all robots turned at once—like someone flipped a switch.

Specter straightened. "Marcus is coming."

Kate blinked and looked toward the entrance. "How's he doing?"

Specter shrugged. "I'm not sure. He's been at the hospital nonstop. Only rests or eats when Martin or Uncle Laurens show up."

Kate raised an eyebrow. "How can you be not sure? You guys are him, aren't you?"

Specter tilted its head slightly, lenses pulsing slowly.

"We're not always looking through the same window," it said after a beat. "Knowing him—or rather, myself—he probably feels guilty for not being there. Annoyed and feeling weak because he lost to Joline's squad leader. Pissed that he wasn't strong enough to stop all those monsters on his own."

Kate leaned back and groaned. "You're all weird."

From the back of the gym, Cypher's voice cut in. "You're teaching a robot how to fly a drone, while talking to another robot about a human's emotional state, based on it sharing the same headspace with him. I think, by association, you're officially weird too."

Kate snorted and smiled, flipping Cypher the finger without even turning around.

The front door creaked open as Marcus stepped inside, hoodie pulled low over his head. He didn't say anything, barely glanced at them as he crossed the gym and disappeared into the basement.

Kate cupped her hands around her mouth. "Good day to you too!" She turned toward Specter, frowning. "Seriously, what's going on with him?"

Specter tilted its head. "He's been through a lot. We all have."

Cypher answered without looking up from its work. "Psychological stress from his sister's situation. Lack of sleep. Multiple injuries and—"

Bastion cut in from the side, voice sharp. "He's pissed and angry. That's it. The why and how don't matter. We all know how Marcus gets when he's like this."

Kate blinked. "Yeah, well, it wouldn't kill him to say hello."

A few minutes later, Marcus came back up from the stairwell, carrying two large crates in his arms. One was filled with Monster-Glass, the jagged edges catching the light like stained ice. The other held a few Orbs, plus the Chip, nestled in a foam cutout. He dropped the crates onto the nearest bench with a thud and peeled off his hoodie and t-shirt.

Muscle and scars—that was the quickest way to describe him. His frame looked carved from something solid, with bruises across his ribs and shoulders, a mess of old and fresh pink scars tracing his skin like rough sketches.

He held up the Chip between two fingers as he turned to the nearest robot.

"Cypher," Marcus said, voice flat. "Help me out here."

Cypher stepped away from the half-assembled frame and crossed the gym floor. It stopped in front of Marcus, took the Chip with careful fingers.

"Are you sure about this?"

"I am," Marcus said, already turning. He braced himself against the edge of the bench, elbows locked, jaw tight. "Shove it in, right side of my back."

His hands clamped down on the metal, knuckles whitening.

Specter took a step forward, lenses flickering. "Marcus, I don't—"

"Shut up," Marcus snapped, eyes fixed ahead. "Cypher. Just do it."

Cypher nodded once. It leaned in and touched a point just right of Marcus's spine, fingers steady. It counted softly—"One, two..."—then slid the Chip in before it reached three.

Marcus sucked in air through his teeth. Blood rolled down his back, bright red against the bruises.

Cypher didn't pause. It pressed two fingers to the Chip's surface and pushed a stream of its own mana into it.

The Chip twitched, then sank deeper—fusing into flesh and bone. Marcus jolted forward slightly as something inside clicked into place. A wave of mana burst out of him, thick and dark blue, like steam off boiling water. The Chip pulsed and changed until it matched the sharp, black look of the other Marks across his body.

The mana grew heavier by the second. A current built behind him—first a breeze, then stronger—air tearing through the gym like it was being funneled through a collapsing tunnel, all of it pouring from his back. The wind forced him forward, pressing him down harder against the bench. The bench scraped forward, skidding across the floor with him as his sweat began to hiss as it dropped to the ground.

Then it all cut out. Silence. No air, no movement. Just Marcus, hunched and panting—his body soaked in sweat, a trail of blood beneath him. He didn't speak. He just stood there, trying to breathe, eyes shut, fingers still gripping the edge of the bench like he might fall if he let go.

Specter and Bastion moved closer, steps quick but careful. The air still felt charged.

"What's going on, Marcus?" Specter asked.

Marcus didn't answer. He pulled his phone from his pocket and tossed it at Specter, who caught it at the last second with a stiff swipe.

Then Marcus turned, grabbed a handful of Monster-Glass from the crate, and slammed it into his chest. No hesitation. The shards dug in deep, then shattered—energy cracking through his torso and sinking inward like water on dry earth. He didn't stop to count. Just reached in and grabbed another set.

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Bastion glanced at Kate. She looked back at it—eyes narrowed, arms wrapped around herself like she couldn't make sense of what she was watching.

Her gaze shifted to Specter.

Specter didn't say anything. It just stared as Marcus drove in another twenty pieces of Glass. Blood welled up around each new wound—small, but steady—dripping down his ribs like paint. Specter finally looked down at the phone in its hand and switched it on, seeing a message thread open with Martin.

┏ ┓

"Laurens told me what Joline said to you.

I'll talk to the guild. Let me handle this.

I've got an appointment with her guild today.

Don't make this worse with one of your tempers."

-Martin

┗ ┛

Below that: missed calls. Dozens. Some from late last night, even more from this morning. The longer Specter stared, the more of Marcus it felt—memories bleeding in through proximity. Memories, thoughts—Marcus sitting at the edge of a hospital bed, Joline hooked up to wires, hearing her struggle to speak because of the pain. That look in her eyes—panic at just hearing the name of her old guild. Flinching at the word Breacher like it was a threat.

Marcus didn't slow down. He stabbed in another cluster of Glass. Only three pieces remained, tossed back into the crate as he stepped away—his chest glowing, blood smeared across his skin and jeans.

Specter watched the three remaining pieces for a second before turning its attention back to the phone.

┏ ┓

"Her guild refused to see me, saying that the contract would stand.

I'll keep trying. These things take time.

Perhaps we'll have better luck next week, when things quiet down a bit around here.

Let me handle this. Don't do anything stupid!!"

-Martin

┗ ┛

Specter stared at the message for a second longer, then silently handed the phone over to Bastion.

Marcus didn't wait. He reached for the first Orb, ignoring Specter's words to wait for a moment. He cracked it against his chest like it owed him something. The energy hit—violent and raw, tearing through the room like a shockwave. Raw mana flowed into him, nearly illuminating his entire frame, making the lights above stutter and flicker.

Even the robots stepped back.

The force tore through the air, rattling tools on every workbench. The floor hummed, heat and power flooding every corner of the gym as Marcus stood at the center of it—head down, fists clenched, veins lit like fire lines beneath his skin.

"Marcus, stop!" Bastion said, stepping forward just as the man grabbed another light blue Orb.

He didn't even glance back.

Marcus just slammed the Orb into his chest. Energy surged again, thicker than before, the air warping around him from the density of it. Mana bled off in clouds, swirling out from his skin in a heavy mist.

Marcus hissed under his breath, blood dripping from his nose. His face had gone pale, beyond sickly, like he'd just been gut-punched by something from the inside out. But then—bit by bit—it got better. His skin regained some color, posture straightened, breaths got easier. Like his body knew how to crawl out of the grave he kept throwing it into—and come out even stronger.

His fingers stayed on the bench. Gripping tight. Tight enough to start denting the metal.

He took a deep breath. Then another. Then reached for the next Orb and drove it in the same way. No hesitation. Just raw force and pain. His muscles screamed, then healed, then screamed again—every cell in him breaking down and building back stronger, over and over, like he was reforging himself by hand.

Kate hissed from across the room, stumbling back a step. "It's too much," she said, eyes squinting shut, arms shaking. Mana swirled towards her, pressing in like pressure under water.

Specter turned fast, stepping toward her. "Come on, let's get you outside."

It scooped her up—quick, but careful—then rushed out the front door and across the overgrown street, cutting a line straight toward an old rusted-out car half-hidden under some vines.

Kate clung to its arm, chest rising too fast to keep steady. "What the hell is he doing?" she asked, practically gasping, trying to sit upright but only managing to slump against the car door. Her skin looked like she'd just walked out of a sauna and a marathon at the same time.

"I'm not sure," Specter said, lenses tilting toward the gym. The boarded-up windows clattered, wood groaning as mana poured from the cracks in thick waves, shimmering like heat off pavement. "He's pissed off for sure."

"You think!" Kate snapped, still gripping the edge of the car. "What the hell was on his phone? A death threat? Taxes?"

"Nothing good," Specter said. It gave her a quick scan—color starting to return to her cheeks, breathing easing a little—then turned his attention back toward the gym. "I'm going to try and calm him down."

Before Kate could answer, a boarded up window exploded outward—boards snapping, nails flying—as Bastion came crashing through.

The robot hit the ground hard, skidding across the pavement until it rolled to a stop near the car. It clutched its chest with one hand, body twitching.

Specter could see that Bastion's chest plate had been pulled off and the Orb inside of it yanked out.

Kate dropped to her knees beside it, hands hovering, unsure what to do, as she stared at the hole in Bastion's chest. "Shit, shit—what happened?!"

Bastion's head tilted toward her, lenses flickering. "Tried the whole 'talk him down' thing," it said, voice crackling. "Didn't take."

Kate's jaw dropped. "He what?!"

It glanced down at the wreckage of its chest plate, then back up. "Got my ass punted through a wall. Real productive conversation."

It jabbed a finger at the hole in its chest. "Oh—and he stole one of my Orbs. Just yanked it out. No thanks, no warning."

Before she could ask more, the gym pulsed and started to shake.

Specter turned—fast—and ran. It slipped through the warped doorframe and straight into chaos. The air inside had turned thick, like syrup and smoke and pressure all rolled into one. And in the middle of it stood Marcus, shirtless, breath heavy, one hand still pressing an Orb against his own chest.

A high-tier blue one.

It was the same kind that Specter now had inside his own head, powering and strengthening his robotic frame far beyond what a mere light blue Orb could do.

Light bled into Marcus, brighter than anything before, searing at the edges. Mana didn't just pour from him—it screamed. Every breath he took dragged more energy out into the open. The gym shook under it. The lights above flickered madly, then shattered, one by one, glass raining down like hail.

Blue mist swirled across the walls, crawling into every crack, humming like it was alive. The whole building felt ready to come apart —like the gym was too small for whatever Marcus was turning into.

Specter stared at Marcus, whose chest heaved as blood dripped down his front like spilled paint. The bench beneath him was streaked red. The crates that once held the Orbs now lay dumped across the floor—empty, save for a few stray pieces of shattered Glass scattered among the foam cutouts.

Specter's lenses shifted. Off to the side, the other robot was in a kneeling position, chest and head casing unscrewed and left ajar like someone had been halfway through a repair job and walked away. Cypher was there, kneeling behind it, methodically undoing the bolts at the back of its skull.

"What's going on here?" Specter asked.

Cypher didn't look up. "Marcus is going to confront Joline's guild. Make them undo her contract," it said, voice flat. "Bastion tried to stop him." It loosened the last bolt and gently lifted the back plate free, exposing the glowing core buried deep inside its skull. "Bastion shouldn't have tried to stop him. It wasn't logical."

Specter turned just in time to see Bastion limp back through the ruined doorway, dragging one leg slightly. It didn't speak. Just stared at Marcus.

Marcus swiped the back of his arm across his face, smearing away more blood than sweat, then stepped toward Cypher.

The robot looked up and nodded once. "You've got one chance at this. Good luck."

Marcus reached forward and pressed two fingers to the back of Cypher's head.

"Echo."

The robot shut down instantly, limbs going slack. Marcus grabbed hold of the light blue Orb and ripped it free in a single sharp motion before slamming the thing into his chest.

The burst of mana hit the air immediately. The light that flared out of him scorched the air, warping the space around him. His skin turned ghost-pale. Blood leaked from the corner of his mouth as he dropped to one knee, body spasming. Burn marks crept up across his chest where the Orbs had burned into him—red, raw, and pulsing.

Marcus panted hard, hunched forward on one knee as steam rolled off him in thick bursts. Mana hissed out from under his skin. His hands twitched, fingers flexing like he wasn't sure they were his anymore. He then turned his head, glanced toward Specter and Bastion.

"You're going for our Orbs next?" Specter asked, voice sharp. "Might I remind you that I'm the one that pulled our sister out of that Sphere?"

Marcus didn't answer. Just stared at them a second longer, eyes dull and locked in. Then he reached down, grabbed the tattered pile of clothes at his feet. He hissed under his breath as he got dressed and the fabric brushed across the burns.

Specter stepped aside as Marcus got up and made his way towards the door. "You do this, there's no going back," it said. "You know that, right?"

Marcus paused, one hand balling into a tight fist. "She gave up thirteen years of her life for us," he said. "I need to do this."

Specter met his gaze for a second before it nodded, watching Marcus walk away.

Bastion stepped into his path, its tall frame towering over Marcus. "I'm not going to let you do this. This is stupid," it snapped as its protective and stubborn nature rooted it in place.

Marcus looked up like a man about to walk into a storm, and he wasn't backing down. "Move."

Bastion didn't. Instead, it lunged closer, its arm shooting forward to grab him. The servos whined with force—but Marcus caught the arm mid-air. His hand clamped around Bastion's wrist like a vice, fingers digging in hard enough to leave dents in the metal. The robot's arm started to shift, grinding in protest as Marcus forced it off-course, bit by bit, until the hand hung limp at the robot's side.

Marcus just stared at the robot for a second, watching it struggle against his hold before he spoke up, low and sharp. "Echo."

Bastion's body went slack. The weight dropped instantly, crashing to the floor in an uncoordinated mess of steel and parts.

Specter watched the young man move past as Bastion stood motionless, its three lenses glowing in the dim light.

In that moment, Specter wondered—not for the first time—how much stronger Marcus had just become.

And how screwed they all might be in the next few hours.