The fallout from the Methodic fight was immediate. The Special Officer Force Headquarters was abuzz with tension. Screens flickered with urgent news reports, headlines flashing across the room like wildfire.

  “Billionaire Heir Targeted in High-Stakes Criminal Showdown!”

  “Special Officers Under Fire After Dangerous Confrontation.”

  “Public Demands Stricter Power Regulation!”

  Khem sat stone-faced at the conference table, eyes skimming over the headlines without reaction. Weird, in contrast, leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head, an amused smirk playing at his lips. Despite his usual sarcasm, there was a sharpness to his gaze, a calculation hidden beneath his lazy demeanor.

  Brave’s voice cut through the air, heavy with frustration. His image flickered on the central holo-screen, arms crossed over his chest. The weight of the situation was clear on his hardened face, framed by blonde hair that just brushed his shoulders. His uniform, adorned with medals from past battles, felt heavier than ever. “Noble’s using this disaster to his advantage.”

  Weird scoffed, glancing at the headline. “Shocker. A billionaire manipulating a crisis for PR. What’s next, the sky’s blue?”

  Brave shot him a dark look. "This isn’t a joke. The higher-ups are on edge. There’s already talk of pulling funding, and some officials are pushing for tighter oversight on powered individuals—including us. If SOF loses credibility, we lose autonomy. They’ll tighten their leash, and if that happens, we won’t be able to act fast enough when real threats hit.”

  Weird’s smirk faltered briefly before he leaned forward, tapping his fingers against the table. "So what’s the play? We bend over backward to make Noble look good while we do all the work? Or do we just let him throw us under the bus and keep moving?"

  Brave exhaled sharply. “No. We move forward. We keep the focus on doing our jobs.” He tapped on his console, sending new intel to their devices. “Next target is already waiting.”

  Khem glanced at his screen as a new file loaded. The name stood out in bold letters:

  Gunman.

  Brave continued, “He’s the second-worst of the escapees. Three confirmed kills since the breakout. He’s not just taking contracts—he’s stirring up chaos for the sake of it.”

  Weird let out a low whistle. “Oh, great. A guy who loves his work.”

  Brave’s expression hardened. “We have a lead. You’re meeting your new teammate on this one. She has a plan.”

  Khem’s phone buzzed. A single message: Café. Now.

  Weird peeked over his shoulder, reading it. “Mysterious. I like it.”

  The café was a sharp contrast to SOF headquarters. Warm sunlight streamed through the wide windows, casting golden hues over polished wooden floors. The scent of fresh coffee lingered in the air, blending with the chatter of midday customers. Khem and Weird settled into a booth by the window. Khem’s hands curled around a steaming cup of black coffee, his expression unreadable. Weird, in stark contrast, stirred his cappuccino with unnecessary enthusiasm, his usual smirk firmly in place. The door opened, and she walked in.

  Samui was striking—pale skin, long white hair cascading like silk, and piercing blue eyes that held an unshakable calm. Dressed in a black scarf, a light blue sweater, and a short white skirt, she carried herself with an effortless grace, the quiet confidence of someone who always stayed three steps ahead.

  She took a seat without preamble, setting her phone on the table. Weird greeted her with a slow grin. “Well, aren’t you just a picture of efficiency?”

  Samui ignored him. Instead, she placed a black duffle bag on the table, unzipping it to reveal a sleek, black remote control. “Before we discuss the plan, you need to understand my ability.”

  Khem nodded. “Explain.”

  Weird raised an eyebrow. “Ooh, show and tell? This should be fun.”

  Samui’s tone remained neutral. Samui folded her hands over the table, her voice measured. “People often mistake my ability for time control, but it's something else entirely. It’s function control.” She tapped the remote lightly. “It depends on the device I use. A pause button lets me freeze something in place. A rewind function reverses objects or people to an earlier state. If I use a tracking device, I can lock onto someone’s location. If I use a controller, I can manipulate anything linked to it.”

  Weird whistled. “So, if you had a TV remote with a ‘mute’ button, you could silence people?”

  Samui glanced at him. “Yes.”

  Weird smirked. “Bet you wish you had one right now.”

  Without a word, Samui pointed the remote at Weird and pressed a button. Silence. Weird opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His eyes widened in shock before narrowing in annoyance. He gestured wildly at the remote.

  Samui pressed another button. “Temporary,” she said. “Limited by range and battery.”

  Weird cleared his throat, rubbing his neck. Then, with a lazy flick of his wrist, his power activated.

  Samui opened her mouth—only for no sound to come out. She blinked.

  Weird grinned. “Yeah. Okay. Not a fan of that one either, huh?”

  Samui pressed another button, restoring sound. She gave Weird a measured look before returning the remote to her bag.

  Khem remained focused. He folded his arms. "And what happens if he adapts? If he recognizes the pattern in your rewinds, he’ll switch his strategy. What’s your backup plan?"

  Samui zipped up her duffle bag. “I’ve researched him more than either of you. I know his patterns, his escape tactics, and his weaknesses. He’s a professional, but he’s predictable. My devices will let us counteract his strategies. If necessary, I can rewind a critical moment to reposition us.”

  Weird tapped the table. “Alright, alright. So what’s the plan?”

  Samui slid a slim tablet across the table. The screen displayed an aerial map of the district, with multiple buildings and streets marked in red.

  “This café is where I told him to strike,” she said. “I’ve mapped out every possible angle he could take the shot from—rooftops, alleyways, windows.” She tapped the screen, zooming in on locations. “Once he fires, I’ll rewind. The three of us will then split up and track him down.”

  Weird exhaled. “You really thought of everything, huh?”

  Samui barely acknowledged him. She adjusted the remote in her hand, her fingers tapping lightly against its surface. "Unlike you, I don’t leave things to chance."

  Khem studied the map, analyzing weak points. If something went wrong, how fast could they recover? “How do you know he’ll take the bait?” Khem finally asked.

  Samui leaned back slightly, crossing her legs. “Gunman is a professional, but his arrogance makes him predictable. A high-profile assassination request, quick payout, and a low-risk setting? He won’t be able to resist.”

  Weird drummed his fingers against the table. “And what happens if he just keeps shooting?”

  Samui’s expression remained impassive. “Then I won’t get hit.”

  Khem set his coffee down. “We’ll follow your plan.”

  Samui checked her watch. “Then let’s get into position.”

  A single shot. Gunman lay prone on a rooftop over 800 meters away, fingers resting lightly against the concrete ledge. From this distance, most snipers wouldn’t even attempt a headshot. But Gunman wasn’t a sniper. He didn’t need a rifle. He was the gun. His hand brushed against the rooftop surface. The concrete pulsed—twisting, condensing into a bullet, then firing at hypersonic speed. His voice, a quiet murmur to himself: “I am the gun.” The bullet punched through the café window, hitting Samui dead center.

  A clean kill.

  For exactly two seconds. Then Samui inhaled, her body rewinding, the blood vanishing, the wound gone.

  Gunman’s expression didn’t change, but his fingers twitched slightly against the rooftop ledge. He considered taking another shot—testing the limits of Samui’s power—but discarded the thought. Too risky. If she could rewind a single wound, she could likely undo multiple. That meant he needed a different approach. His breath steadied as calculations ran through his mind—analyzing angles, escape routes, and potential counterattacks. He had seconds to act, and he wasn’t about to waste them. But he knew immediately. A trap.

  Gunman didn't hesitate. His breath remained steady as he adjusted his aim. One failed shot meant nothing—he had tested the waters, and now he was adapting. He pressed his fingers against the rooftop surface once more, forming two new bullets in a single motion. This time, he wouldn't waste them. His smirk didn’t fade as both bullets cut through the air—one curving unnaturally toward Khem, the other speeding directly at Weird’s shoulder.

  Khem barely had time to register the incoming shot before a sudden pull yanked him backward. The world blurred for an instant—then snapped back into focus a fraction of a second earlier. His boots skidded against the café floor, now out of the bullet’s path.

  Samui stood at the table, her remote pointed at him, her thumb releasing a button. "Handled," she muttered.

  Gunman had already recalibrated. One bullet dodged. One bullet landed. Or so he thought.

  Weird let the shot hit him. The moment the bullet connected with his shoulder, Gunman’s own shoulder twisted violently. A sickening CRACK echoed as blood spattered against the rooftop ledge. The sniper’s breath hitched as he stumbled back, clutching his now-shattered collarbone. Weird rolled his shoulder with a smirk, seemingly unfazed. "Yeah, no. Try again."

  Gunman exhaled sharply, steadying himself. The first engagement hadn't gone in his favor. But the fight was far from over. He gritted his teeth, blood seeping from the wound on his shoulder. His mind was already calculating the next move. Samui had just rewound herself—an ability that could mean more than just reversing her own actions. Could she pause devices? Track movements? If she could manipulate sequences like that, this wasn’t just about dodging; he had to disrupt her rhythm, throw off her timing before she locked him into a pattern he couldn’t break. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. If she wanted to play reaction games, then fine. He’d make sure she couldn’t keep up.

  Gunman adjusted his stance, brushing his hand against the surface below him. His power allowed him to break apart and launch fragments of his surroundings as projectiles. He barely had to think—his fingers brushed against the table behind him, transmuting its edge into a fresh round. He lined up the shot but didn’t fire at Samui or Khem directly. Instead, he aimed for the café’s support beams.

  The first shot ricocheted off a metal frame, bouncing unpredictably before lodging itself into the ceiling. The second hit a decorative lamp, sending shattered glass raining down. The third? It tore through the leg of a chair, sending it skidding toward Khem’s feet. Chaos. Disruption. That was his game.

  Samui’s eyes darted, tracking each projectile. She was fast—she’d already rewound Khem out of one near-fatal shot earlier—but could she manage this many angles at once? Gunman doubted it.

  Khem reacted first, shifting his stance to avoid the flying chair leg. Weird, standing just behind him, snorted. “Oh, come on, is that the best you got?”

  Gunman fired again—this time, not aiming at them, but at the swinging café sign outside. The bullet struck the chain, snapping it. The sign plummeted downward, right above where Samui was standing. Her eyes flickered as she activated her ability. The falling sign froze mid-air, reversing course, returning to its original hanging position. But Gunman wasn’t done. Even before she finished her rewind, he fired another round at the café’s power box. The circuitry shorted out with a sharp crack, cutting off the hum of machines and flickering the lights inside. Shadows stretched under the midday sun, the sudden silence amplifying the tension. Now she had no clear sight.

  Gunman, stationed 800 meters away on a rooftop, adjusted his position. He peered through his enhanced scope, watching as the confusion set in. Gunman smirked to himself, eyes tracking their movements through his scope. "Tick-tock, rewind girl. Let’s see how many tricks you can juggle before you slip," he murmured, the words more for his own amusement than anyone else's.

  The air was thick with tension as Samui narrowed her eyes, her breathing steady but measured. Khem shifted slightly, prepared for the next move.

  From the rooftop, a sudden spark—Gunma had fired again, the bullet ricocheting off a metal railing and shifting direction midair. Samui barely had time to react, twisting her fingers in the air, forcing the bullet to pause before rewinding it back toward him. But this was exactly what he wanted. Gunman caught the bullet mid-flight, twisting it between his fingers before launching it back with deadly precision. “Nice try,” he taunted, before immediately firing again—this time at Weird.

  Weird grinned, stepping forward just as the bullet made contact—only for it to rebound harmlessly off his skin, ricocheting back towards Gunman with twice the force.

  Gunman had anticipated this and never aimed at Weird to begin with. He avoided engaging him entirely, knowing Weird's ability made direct attacks pointless.

  “Damn,” he muttered. “Forgot about the human trampoline.”

  Weird cracked his knuckles, still smirking. “Guess you’ll have to try harder.”

  Samui and Khem shared a glance. This fight wasn’t going to be easy. Samui’s mind raced. Reacting wasn’t going to work forever—Gunman was too unpredictable. Instead, she made a split-second decision. "We split up," she ordered, her voice firm. "We know he's somewhere within 800 meters. If we spread out, we can narrow down his position." Khem and Weird exchanged a glance but nodded. Samui reached into her pocket and pulled out a small device—a compact remote linked to her Function Control ability. With a press of a button, a pulse of energy radiated outward, locking onto her teammates.

  Acceleration.

  Khem blurred, his movements doubling in speed. Weird cracked his neck, his reflexes now heightened beyond their usual threshold. Even as Gunman watched through his scope, the targets he had been tracking suddenly became exponentially harder to follow. "Let’s flush him out," Samui murmured, eyes scanning the bustling streets, sunlight glinting off glass and steel as she weaved through the city.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Meanwhile, Gunman frowned from his vantage point. "Well, that’s new." He shifted his position, knowing it wouldn’t be long before they were on him. Gunman smirked as he watched the SOF scatter through his scope. They thought they had him cornered, but he had planned for this contingency. With a swift motion, he activated a series of small, pre-placed devices positioned around the battlefield. Each one emitted brief muzzle flashes and simulated gunfire, mimicking his own attack patterns. A few even projected fleeting silhouettes in the shadows—ghostly outlines that moved just enough to fool the eye. From their perspectives, it would seem like Gunman had somehow multiplied.

  Khem halted mid-step, his instincts screaming at him as he caught what looked like Gunman darting between rooftops. "I have movement—west sector!" he called out.

  Weird grinned, already switching direction. "No, no, I got him east—on a lower floor."

  Samui narrowed her eyes, her mind racing. "He's trying to throw us off. Stay sharp!"

  Gunman, safely hidden, repositioned once more. "Let's see how long you keep up now."

  Samui clenched her jaw, realizing Gunman’s deception. The scattered muzzle flashes and shifting silhouettes were meant to mislead them—but she had an edge. She quickly pulled out a secondary scanner from her belt—a specialized detection device separate from her Function Control remote. If Gunman thought illusions would work, she would simply cut through the noise. With a swift activation, the scanner emitted a directed energy pulse, sweeping the battlefield to filter real movement from false signals. Holographic projections wavered, and false muzzle flashes dimmed, exposing their deception. More importantly, a single signature remained unaffected—Gunman’s real location. "Ignore the fakes!" Samui commanded. "He's on the northern rooftop, third building over!"

  Khem immediately shifted direction, dashing toward the marked location. Weird chuckled, shaking his head. "Nice try, but you’re playing against the pros."

  Gunman, seeing his trick unravel, exhaled sharply. "Tch. Clever girl."

  Weird cracked his knuckles, grinning as he watched the battlefield shift in Gunman’s favor. But just because Gunman had tricks didn’t mean SOF was outmatched. "Alright, enough playing," Weird muttered, tilting his head side to side. "Time to mess with the sharpshooter." Tilting his head as he thought. He didn't carry gadgets—that wasn't his style. But he didn't need a device to cause chaos. Instead of chasing shadows, he relied on his natural unpredictability. With a sudden burst of movement, he took off in a seemingly random direction, zigzagging through the battlefield at erratic angles. To an observer, it would look like he was lost or confused. But to Gunman, watching from 800 meters away, it was a nightmare to track. "You like misdirection, huh?" Weird thought, smirking to himself. "Let's see how you handle mine." He didn't need tech—his unpredictability was the real weapon. With a sudden burst of movement, he darted at an erratic pace, his unpredictable footwork making it nearly impossible to track him.

  Gunman, hidden on his rooftop perch, felt frustration creeping in. His scope struggled to lock onto Weird—his movements were erratic, unnatural, forcing Gunman to second-guess every shot. "Damn it," he muttered, adjusting his aim, but his instincts screamed at him—something was off. Weird wasn’t just running; he was leading Gunman into uncertainty, forcing him to hesitate.

  Weird smirked, keeping his movements erratic. "Let’s see how you fight when you can't predict your target."

  Gunman exhaled sharply, his frustration giving way to calculation. Weird’s erratic movements were impossible to track conventionally, but unpredictability worked both ways. If he couldn’t predict Weird, then Weird wouldn’t be able to predict what wasn’t meant to hit him in the first place. Gunman narrowed his eyes, adjusting his aim. Weird was too erratic to hit directly, but precision wasn't just about hitting a target—it was about controlling the battlefield. He flicked his wrist, sending a sharp fragment hurtling forward. Bullets tore through the environment around Weird, striking just ahead of his path and at his flanks. The shots weren’t meant for him—they were meant to reshape the terrain. Chunks of debris collapsed, metal beams bent, and shattered glass rained down, forming an impromptu barrier that cut off Weird’s escape routes.

  Weird skidded to a stop, his usual free range of movement suddenly restricted. A step in any direction meant diving into unstable wreckage or tripping over the newly-formed obstacles. Gunman had caged him without ever touching him.

  Gunman smirked, lowering his scope slightly. "Can’t dodge the terrain, huh?"

  Weird blinked, his smirk faltering for just a second as he realized what had happened. He wasn’t tied up, wasn’t injured—but he was trapped. The debris had closed around him in a way that left no easy path forward.

  "Huh… that’s new," he muttered, tilting his head as if considering his predicament. He shifted his weight, testing his surroundings, but every escape route had been preemptively cut off by Gunman’s precise shots. "Gotta admit, that’s some damn fine shooting."

  Khem, however, didn’t hesitate. The moment he saw Weird was pinned in place, he took action. With acceleration still boosting his movements, he became a blur, racing across the battlefield in an instant. His target wasn’t Gunman himself—it was the rooftop.

  Gunman fired, but Khem wasn’t aiming to dodge. He zigzagged unpredictably, forcing Gunman to split his focus. In a matter of seconds, Khem launched himself upward, kicking off a lamppost and vaulting onto a nearby fire escape. The next bound took him to the adjacent rooftop—Gunman’s rooftop. He exhaled, adjusting his stance. "Took you long enough."

  Khem landed smoothly, his gaze locked onto the sharpshooter. For the first time, it was no longer a long-range battle. Gunman was about to face an opponent up close.

  Gunman didn't flinch as Khem closed in. Losing the distance advantage wasn’t ideal, but he wasn’t about to let himself be cornered. With a fluid motion, he fired a rapid succession of calculated shots—not at Khem directly, but around him. Bullets struck the rooftop, the edges of the fire escape, and even a nearby air conditioning unit, creating a concentrated zone of suppression.

  Khem skidded to a stop. The suppression fire didn’t just box him in—it left him with one choice. His breath steadied. His body locked in place.

  Then—Stasis.

  Time froze around him. The bullets ripped through the air, colliding against his form and bouncing off harmlessly, their momentum neutralized by the sheer stillness of his Stasis.

  Gunman’s eyes narrowed through his scope. He recognized what had happened immediately. "Tch. Of course."

  Khem remained untouched, but motionless. It was a pure defensive maneuver—powerful, but temporary. His power allowed him to freeze his momentum, effectively dodging the overwhelming fire, but that was exactly what Gunman wanted. As soon as Khem entered Stasis, Gunman made his move. He vaulted backward off the rooftop, twisting mid-air as he fired another series of shots downward. The bullets struck the rooftop near Khem, further ensuring he couldn’t react instantly. The moment Khem dropped Stasis, motion surged back into his limbs. He exhaled sharply, his mind already locking onto Gunman’s possible escape routes.

  Gunman was fast—but Khem wasn’t about to let him vanish without a trace. His acceleration kicked in, and he launched off the rooftop, his pursuit beginning anew.

  Weird, still trapped below, let out a low whistle. "Man, that guy’s got moves. So... uh, little help here?"

  Samui watched from a distance, her mind already working on the next step. "We’re not letting him get away that easily." Her eyes flickered between the rooftops and Weird’s trapped form. Gunman was on the move again, but she couldn’t leave a teammate behind. She had to do both—track Gunman’s escape and free Weird at the same time. She activated her scanner again, quickly pinpointing Gunman’s trajectory. "He's moving southeast, jumping across rooftops! Khem, keep the pressure on him!"

  Khem barely responded before accelerating, chasing Gunman with renewed intensity.

  Samui turned to Weird, already analyzing the wreckage pinning him in place. She reached out, touching a section of twisted metal and activating her Function Control. The structure’s rigidity softened, warping just enough for Weird to slip free. Weird stretched his arms. "Man, took you long enough. I was about to start charging rent."

  Samui rolled her eyes. "Let’s move. Gunman’s still ahead of us." She reactivated her scanner, keeping their target locked in her sights as she and Weird launched back into pursuit.

  Gunman knew he couldn't keep running forever—not without stacking the odds further in his favor. He needed another misdirection, something more elaborate than his last trick. As he dashed across the rooftops, he swiftly fired into select points along the structures—cracking water pipes, shattering neon signs, and rupturing ventilation ducts. Steam billowed, sparks flickered, and the environment turned into a chaotic mess of visual obstructions.

  Khem was fast, but even he had to slow down for a fraction of a second to process the shifting battlefield. That was all Gunman needed. He threw himself sideways, landing against a crumbling ledge and using the sudden collapse to mask his movements. Rolling with the debris, he disappeared into a lower level of an abandoned construction site, effectively vanishing from sight.

  Samui’s scanner struggled against the dense interference. "Damn it! He’s jamming the area with environmental hazards!"

  Weird, still grinning, cracked his knuckles. "Alright, so we play his game. You got a workaround for that scanner?"

  Samui narrowed her eyes. "I might. But we need to act fast before he resets the playing field."

  Khem didn’t hesitate. As soon as Samui’s Function Control slowed the debris, he lunged forward—but his acceleration was fading. He could feel the resistance creeping into his movements, his edge slipping. Samui caught the shift instantly. Without missing a beat, she pressed the remote, reapplying the acceleration effect. Energy pulsed through Khem, reigniting his speed as he kicked off the collapsing wreckage with pinpoint precision, launching upward just as the structure crumbled beneath him.

  Gunman scowled. He had been seconds from sealing Khem’s fate, but now the battlefield was slipping from his control. Adjusting instantly, he flicked his wrist, hurling a jagged piece of debris—not at Khem, but at a rooftop fixture. The projectile struck a rusted ventilation shaft, sending it toppling directly into Khem’s path.

  Khem twisted mid-air, barely dodging as the heavy structure crashed behind him. Gunman had anticipated the move. He fired again, using Khem’s own momentum against him, forcing him into a path with no stable footholds. Khem gritted his teeth. He couldn’t adjust mid-flight—not like this.

  Samui saw it too. "Gunman’s trying to control his landing!"

  Weird, watching from below, smirked. "Guess that means it’s our turn to mess with him."

  Samui’s scanner flickered with warning signals. "Khem’s energy levels just dropped—damn it! Gunman’s setting traps!"

  Weird whistled. "And here I thought I was the reckless one. What’s the plan, boss?"

  Samui clenched her jaw. "We get him out before Gunman turns this place into a tomb."

  Gunman moved with practiced precision, navigating the collapsing structure like it was second nature. Khem was fast, but now, he was boxed in. This was the moment to strike. Lining up his shot, Gunman aimed at an overhead beam barely holding back a mountain of debris. A single well-placed bullet would bring it all down.

  Samui’s scanner beeped urgently. Her eyes widened. "He’s going to bury Khem alive!"

  "Then I guess we better ruin his plan," Weird said, already moving. With a burst of speed, he darted ahead, making a beeline for the compromised structure.

  Samui followed, her Function Control analyzing the wreckage. She didn’t need to stop the collapse—just create an opening for Khem.

  Gunman exhaled, steadying his aim. But just as he pulled the trigger, a sudden blur streaked through his scope. Weird had thrown himself into the chaos, deflecting falling debris mid-air with well-timed strikes. "You’re not the only one who can mess with the battlefield, buddy." At the same time, Samui activated her ability. The debris mid-collapse slowed just enough for Khem to react. "Khem, move!" she shouted.

  Gunman clicked his tongue. The shot had already been fired—but now the battlefield was shifting against him.

  Khem didn’t hesitate. The moment Samui’s Function Control slowed the debris, he lunged forward, pushing through the chaos.

  Gunman scowled. "Tch. Not bad." He was seconds away from regaining control when Khem suddenly reached out, fingertips grazing a loose steel beam.

  Stasis Touch.

  The moment his power activated, the debris froze in place, locked in time. Khem gripped the immobilized beam tightly, using it as an anchor to regain his balance. He swung his legs up, pushing off the frozen structure to redirect his momentum. Gunman’s attempt to control his landing had just failed. Khem landed smoothly on a lower rooftop, already tracking Gunman’s next move. He wouldn’t stay in one spot—he was already repositioning for another ambush.

  "He’s trying to reset the fight!" Samui called out, tracking Gunman’s shifting position. "He’s moving west, trying to find higher ground!"

  Gunman flicked a piece of rubble aside, already retreating. SOF was adapting too fast. He needed to create more space, disrupt their rhythm. This wasn’t over.

  He moved swiftly, weaving through the ruins. But Samui wasn’t about to let him slip away.

  "Weird, go left!" she ordered, sprinting alongside him. "We need to box him in!"

  Weird grinned. "Now we’re talking!"

  The two split up, cutting off Gunman’s escape. Samui monitored his trajectory while Weird used his unpredictable movement to approach from the flank, forcing Gunman toward a dead-end rooftop.

  Gunman clicked his tongue. They were closing in. But before they could tighten the noose, Khem surged forward, refusing to wait. With acceleration still fueling him, Khem broke away from the group, pushing himself even faster to reach Gunman first.

  "Khem, wait!" Samui called, but he didn’t slow. Gunman was right there.

  Gunman, sensing the incoming pressure, abruptly changed course—but Khem was too fast. He cut across the battlefield, closing the gap before Gunman could fully reposition. Now, it was a one-on-one pursuit. Gunman exhaled sharply. If Khem reached him, the fight would turn into a close-quarters battle—one he couldn’t afford to get caught in. He needed a new plan, fast. Gunman’s mind raced. Khem was closing in fast, and if he reached him, it would turn into a fight Gunman wasn’t built for.

  Fine. If they wanted him cornered, he'd show them what a cornered animal could do. Instead of continuing his escape, Gunman abruptly shifted directions, diving off the rooftop. He twisted mid-air, shattering a water pipe with a projectile as he fell, sending a high-pressure burst of steam into the air—a smokescreen to break line of sight.

  Khem landed on the edge of the roof, eyes scanning the mist below. Gunman was gone.

  "Damn it!" Samui growled, catching up as the fog began to clear. "He’s not running anymore—he’s baiting us into something."

  Weird exhaled, watching the steam dissipate. "So where’s he going?" Then, they saw it. In the distance, past the ruined buildings and abandoned streets, a public square. Bright lights, scattered market stalls, civilians moving freely—completely unaware of what was coming. Gunman wasn’t retreating. He was making a statement.

  Samui’s blood went cold. "No..."

  Gunman landed lightly on a fire escape near the bustling district, his gaze locked onto the unsuspecting crowd. If they wanted to hunt him, then they’d have to watch people fall first. "You should’ve let me go," he murmured to himself. Then, he raised his hand toward the square—and let the first projectile fly.

  Samui’s instincts took over. She had finally closed the distance—just enough for her ability to take effect. Her hand flew to her remote, thumb slamming down on the pause function. A pulse of energy rippled outward, locking Gunman in place.

  For a split second, everything froze—Gunman’s outstretched hand, the projectile hovering mid-air, his smirk caught halfway. But his eyes still moved. His gaze shifted toward SOF, and his smile widened. Then, his fingers twitched.

  A horrifying realization hit Samui—he had already fired multiple projectiles. The first was suspended, but the others—hidden in the chaos—were still moving.

  With agonizing slowness, the first projectile resumed motion, followed by the second, the third, then dozens more. The massacre had already begun. Gunman, still frozen in place, watched it unfold with a smile.

  Khem and Weird sprinted forward, abandoning caution, their acceleration maxed out. They had to stop this.

  Too late.

  Explosions rocked the marketplace, tearing through stalls, sending civilians screaming as rubble and debris collapsed onto them. People scattered in terror, but there was nowhere to run. Blood stained the pavement, the square turning into a warzone in mere seconds. Gunman laughed soundlessly, still caught in Samui’s stasis, watching the destruction unfold as he intended.

  Samui’s hands trembled around the remote. She had stopped him—but not his plan.

  Khem skidded to a halt, fists clenched, eyes locked onto Gunman’s frozen form. "You... bastard."

  Weird’s usual grin was gone. "He knew exactly what he was doing."

  Gunman’s smirk never faded. They had hunted him, cornered him, and this was the price. The chaos settled for just a moment—just long enough for SOF to process what had happened. Then—the ricochet.

  It happened before anyone processed it. Several of Gunman’s stray projectiles had struck Weird. Normally, that wouldn’t have mattered. Weird was untouchable. Every attack bounced off him, always. But that was the problem. Gunman’s own deadly projectiles, carrying double their original force, whipped back toward their source. A sudden, sharp impact. A sickening squelch. Gunman’s body convulsed, his frozen smirk twisting in realization as his own shards of destruction punched through him. One embedded itself deep into his chest. Another pierced his throat. The final, most vicious strike, buried itself in his skull. His frozen body slumped, and for the first time, his smirk was truly gone.

  A long silence followed. The square was still burning, screams still echoing, but SOF didn’t move. Weird stared at the destruction around him, his usual smirk nowhere to be seen. His hands clenched, his breathing shallow. He had killed Gunman—but he hadn’t saved anyone. The square was still in ruins. People were still dead. His throat felt dry. "I should’ve done something sooner," he muttered, voice hollow. "I should’ve—" He stopped himself, shaking his head as if trying to rid himself of the thoughts, but they wouldn't leave.

  Khem exhaled sharply, his gaze shifting to Weird. He could see it—the way Weird’s usual bravado had cracked, the guilt creeping in. With a steadying breath, Khem reached out, gripping Weird’s shoulder. "We don’t have time for this," he said, firm but not unkind. "The people who are still alive need help. That’s what matters now."

  Samui took a slow, measured breath, forcing herself to move. The weight of everything threatened to bury her, but she refused to let it. Gunman was dead, but they still had a job to do. And yet, the devastation he caused remained.

  The air was thick with smoke and the stench of blood. The sounds of distant sirens signaled that reinforcements and emergency teams were closing in, but for SOF, the battle was already over. Gunman was dead. The damage, irreversible.

  Samui exhaled, shoving down the emotions threatening to bubble to the surface. "We secure the area. We help who we can. Then we leave."

  Khem released his grip on Weird’s shoulder and stepped forward. He didn’t say anything, but his posture carried his agreement. They had no choice but to keep moving.

  Weird lingered for a moment, staring at the wreckage, at the lives that had been lost despite everything. His fists clenched. He didn’t crack a joke this time.

  As the team spread out to assist the survivors, Samui stole one last glance at the spot where Gunman had stood, where his smirk had finally disappeared for good.

  It didn’t feel like a victory.

  Also here are illustration of my characters and some of ideas I had for them.