The sharp, concussive blasts of Anis's grenade launcher echoed through the shattered building, each thump shaking loose a cloud of dust from the crumbling ceiling. Neon's shotgun roared in quick, successive bursts, drowning out the tense silence that hung between each exchange of fire. John barely registered the noise; his world had narrowed to the frantic task of pulling Rapi into cover, his heart hammering against his ribs as he dragged her behind a cracked, concrete pillar.

John's hands shook as he ripped open a field bandage, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He pressed the fabric to the smoldering wound on Rapi's chest, his fingers slipping against the scorched fabric of her black battleshirt, the edges burned away where the electron beam sniper shot had seared through. The bandage wouldn't stick, sliding uselessly over the blackened fabric and the mess beneath, as if refusing to grip. His mind spun, every attempt to secure it turning into a desperate, futile struggle.

"Come on," John muttered under his breath, trying to keep his voice steady, but his panic bled through. The bandage slipped again, and he cursed, pressing harder, convinced it was the blood—there had to be blood, pooling too fast for him to keep up. He could see it in his mind: red seeping into the dirt, staining the ground beneath her. The image haunted him, the edges of reality and fear blurring together as his fingers fumbled. "Stay with me, Rapi. Just hold on, damn it."

He couldn't think straight. Every time he looked down, his vision seemed to spin, expecting to see crimson spreading. He could feel his chest tightening, each failed attempt to wrap the wound sending him further into a spiral of helplessness. All he could think about was how much blood she had to be losing, how he wasn't doing enough, wasn't fast enough.

"John," Rapi's voice cut through, faint but insistent, like a lifeline being thrown to a drowning man. She said his name again, but he barely heard her, too lost in the clumsy rush of his hands trying to fix what he couldn't see. "John!"

She grabbed his arm, her grip surprisingly firm, and shook him with all the strength she had left. "Commander!"

John's head snapped up, eyes wide and frantic, as if he'd just been pulled from deep water. He met her gaze, her dark eyes steady despite the flicker of pain that lingered there. "Look," she said, her voice calm, deliberately measured against his panic. "I'm fine. Look."

John's frantic breaths slowed as he followed her gaze down to the wound. For the first time, he really saw it—the blackened, sparking mess of exposed circuits and torn synthetic tissue where the beam had burned through. No blood, just the flickering light of damaged wiring and the faint scent of scorched fabric. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut, shame and relief mingling painfully in his chest.

Rapi's battleshirt was burned away, revealing the sparking innards of her damaged systems, the electron beam having carved a shallow groove that, though serious, was not the life-threatening wound he'd imagined. The bandage, which had seemed so vital moments ago, was useless against her robotic frame.

"I told you, it's not as bad as it looks," Rapi said, her voice gentle, almost soothing. She looked at him with something close to sympathy, understanding the chaos that had briefly overwhelmed him.

John drew a shaky breath, feeling the tension in his shoulders loosen slightly. He nodded, though the guilt still gnawed at him for losing control, for letting his fear cloud his actions. He forced his hands to still, but the adrenaline still pulsed hotly under his skin.

Behind them, the firefight had ended, and Neon and Anis approached cautiously, their weapons lowered but still ready. The concern on their faces was unmistakable, their eyes flicking between Rapi's damaged chest and John's still-shaking hands.

Neon's normally cheerful demeanor was muted, replaced by a worried frown. "Commander, is Rapi—"

"She's fine," John cut her off, his voice sharper than he intended. He pushed himself up, his movements stiff, avoiding their eyes. The embarrassment of his momentary lapse burned in his gut, twisting his expression into a scowl. "It's not as bad as it looks. Circuits can be fixed."

Anis watched him closely, her brow furrowed in a mix of concern and confusion. "Commander, are you sure you're—"

"I said I'm fine," John snapped, the words coming out harsher than he meant. He turned away, angry at himself for letting them see him like this. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as if the pain could ground him, pull him back from the edge of panic. "Just... fix her up. I'll keep watch."

Without waiting for a response, John moved away, his steps heavy as he headed for the broken window overlooking the desolate street outside. He positioned himself near the edge, eyes scanning the distant rooftops for any signs of the sniper, his mind still reeling. He tried to block out the sounds of Anis and Neon tending to Rapi, tried to shut down the chaotic thoughts that kept replaying in his head—the fear, the helplessness, the moment he'd thought he was losing her.

He tightened his grip on the bandage, his jaw clenched so hard it hurt. John kept his gaze fixed on the ruins ahead, determined to keep himself together, even as the echoes of his own panic lingered, gnawing at the edges of his resolve.

John stood by the broken window, his eyes scanning the cityscape beyond. The skeletal remains of buildings stretched into the distance, shrouded in a haze of dust and debris. He gripped his weapon tightly, trying to focus on the rhythm of his breathing, the solid feel of the rifle in his hands—the only things that felt real at the moment. Each inhale and exhale was deliberate, a silent battle to steady the tremor still clinging to his muscles. He watched the horizon, forcing his mind to settle on the distant rooftops, on the jagged lines of concrete and steel, searching for any hint of movement.

The silence hung between him and the ruins, thick and oppressive, pressing in on him like a weight he couldn't quite shake. He closed his eyes briefly, feeling the cool wind brush against his face, trying to let it clear the lingering fog of panic from his thoughts. The chaos of the battle, the sharp fear of almost losing someone, it all clawed at the edges of his mind, refusing to be pushed away. He tightened his grip, feeling the familiar cold metal bite into his palms, anchoring him.

Behind him, he heard hesitant footsteps, light and uncertain. Neon approached, her usual buoyant energy subdued, replaced by a hesitant awkwardness as she lingered near the shattered doorway. She shifted on her feet, fidgeting with the straps of her gear, glancing at John as if unsure how to bridge the gap that had suddenly opened between them.

Neon cleared her throat, trying to mask her unease with a forced smile. "Uh... hey, Commander. You're, um... you're okay, right?"

John turned slightly, catching the nervous flicker in her eyes. He could tell she was trying to find the right thing to say, something that wouldn't step on a landmine of emotions. For a moment, the words hung between them, heavy and uncertain. John, sensing the awkward tension, forced a smirk, the kind he'd normally flash when trying to defuse a bad situation.

"You know, Neon," John said, his voice dry, though there was a faint edge to it. "Pretty sure that rapture was just jealous of my dashing good looks. I mean, can't blame them, right? It's hard to find a jawline this sharp."

Neon blinked, then let out a surprised laugh, the tension easing just a little. She gave him a half-smile, grateful for the attempt, even if it was paper-thin. "Yeah, guess they were jealous and wanted to get rid of the competition. Could've been their only… shot."

Before either of them could say more, Anis emerged from the doorway, Rapi following close behind. Rapi's chest was exposed, the beam from the sniper having burned through her battleshirt, leaving the circuits and synthetic skin visible. Anis's face was a mix of irritation and worry as she kept glancing at the damage, her hands gesturing animatedly.

"Seriously, Rapi," Anis scolded, her voice pitched with exasperation. "You can't just walk around like that! I mean, it's barely holding on. One wrong move, and... you know... everything's out in the open!"

Rapi glanced down at her torn shirt, her expression unfazed. "It's just some fabric, Anis." She gave a slight shrug, unbothered by the state of her attire. "I need to keep my mobility up. Covering this up is the least of my worries."

Anis threw up her hands, clearly flustered. "It's just you know! The commander's here, you know? He might... look. You don't just walk around with—"

Before Anis could finish, John stepped forward, his face set but calm. Without saying a word, he shrugged off his commander's jacket and carefully draped it over Rapi's shoulders, buttoning it up at the top. The jacket hung loosely on her, the heavy material covering the burned area and hiding the exposed circuits.

Rapi looked down at the jacket, then back up at John, something unspoken passing between them. Her hand brushed the fabric, fingers tracing the worn, familiar material. She hesitated, as if deciding whether to accept it or hand it back, but the look on John's face—steadfast, quiet, unyielding—left little room for argument. She adjusted the collar slightly, the jacket still too big on her frame but providing the cover Anis had insisted upon.

Anis folded her arms, half-pleased, half-defeated. "See? Better already," she muttered, though her voice softened at the end, the worry still lingering in her eyes.

Rapi straightened up, her face returning to its usual calm, professional demeanor as she looked at John. Despite the jacket draped over her shoulders, the damage to her battleshirt was evident, but her expression betrayed no discomfort or concern. She squared her stance and spoke in the clipped, efficient tone of a soldier giving a report.

"Minor damage to the lower collarbone area," Rapi said, gesturing briefly to the exposed circuits beneath the jacket. "Overall damage rate is at 5.7%. I am still fully combat capable, Commander."

John didn't reply immediately, his gaze lingering on Rapi for a beat longer than necessary. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting—maybe something more shaken, maybe something less formal. But it was Rapi, always the soldier. He swallowed hard, the tension from earlier still gnawing at him.

Finally, he spoke, his voice lower, steadier than before. "Counters should return to the outpost."

There was a brief, stunned silence. Anis and Neon exchanged surprised glances, and even Rapi's expression flickered, if only for a moment.

Anis was the first to speak, her tone incredulous. "What? You can't be serious, John. We can't just retreat like that! We will get punished for disobeying a direct order from a Deputy Chief."

Rapi nodded, backing up Anis. "She's right, Commander. We've been assigned to this mission directly by a deputy chief, and abandoning it without completing the objective is not an option. There would be serious consequences, not just for us but for you as well."

"I said Counters should head back, not that we're abandoning the mission. I'll complete it on my own."

John took a deep breath, his jaw tightening. He could feel the argument bubbling up, but he wasn't about to let it drop. "I know the stakes, Rapi. But I'm not putting you all in harm's way when I don't have to. I can handle this."

Rapi's eyes narrowed slightly. "Commander, with all due respect, you don't get to decide that on your own."

Anis crossed her arms, stepping forward, her voice tinged with frustration. "John, this is what we're here for. We're Nikkes. Fighting raptures is literally what we're built for. You can't just sideline us because you think it's too dangerous."

John's hands balled into fists at his sides, the words slipping out before he could stop himself. "I chose this path for myself! I left the Jujutsu Society to fight on the surface. This is my responsibility. I don't want to drag anyone else into this."

Rapi stepped closer, her eyes locked on John's, her tone firm but not without a trace of something gentler, something frustrated. "You're a sorcerer, John. But we're Nikkes. We've been fighting for humanity long before you stepped into this role. It's insulting to think that you're the only one who can handle it. We all want to protect humanity, and we're not about to just watch you fight alone."

Anis jabbed a finger at John's chest, clearly annoyed. "We get it—you're powerful and all. But don't you dare act like you're the only one fighting for something bigger than yourself. You're not the only one who's willing to put their life on the line for this, and it's pretty damn insulting that you'd think otherwise."

John felt his breath catch in his throat. The words hit him harder than he expected, the weight of their conviction and the fierceness in their voices. He stood there, shoulders tense, staring at them as the reality of what they were saying settled in. They were right, and he knew it. He had been so focused on protecting them—on trying to shoulder everything himself—that he hadn't realized he was undermining them, undermining their very purpose.

He ran a hand through his hair, the fight slowly draining out of him. "I didn't mean it like that, I cant see another.." he said quietly, the guilt heavy in his voice. "You're right. I... I'm sorry. I'm just trying to protect you, but I know that's not fair. This is your fight too."

There was a brief pause, the tension between them easing slightly as John's words hung in the air. Rapi's expression softened, and even Anis relaxed a bit, though she still looked ready to give him another earful if he pushed it.

Anis gave him a small nod. "Apology accepted, Commander. But let's get one thing straight—we're in this together. We're a team."

John nodded, a faint, tired smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah. Let's keep moving. Together."

The journey through the ruined city was a grueling dance of cat and mouse, tension coiling tighter with each step as John and the Counters navigated the treacherous landscape. Every corner of the shattered streets and crumbling buildings felt charged with the weight of unseen eyes, shadows that moved when no one was looking. They had been tracking the signal from the Wardress squad for hours, winding through the skeletal remains of a city that seemed almost alive with hostility. Abandoned vehicles lay scattered like fallen barricades, rusted and forgotten, while broken windows and debris-strewn alleys hinted at dangers lurking just out of sight.

The first ambush came without warning as they crossed an old highway overpass. Raptures burst from behind derelict cars, their metallic bodies gleaming in the dim light. Rapi reacted instantly, her rifle snapping up with a sharp bark, a well-placed shot taking down the first rapture before it could even get close. Anis launched a grenade, the explosion lighting up the underpass in a fiery blast, metal shrapnel tearing through the air. John charged forward, a flash of cursed energy rippling through his muscles. He could feel the familiar rush, that heady mix of adrenaline and exhilaration flooding his veins as he dove into the fray. He grabbed a rapture by the neck, twisting sharply as he drove it into the ground, the impact splintering the concrete beneath them. He could feel his pulse quicken, the fight feeding a part of him that craved chaos.

"Eyes open!" Rapi ordered, her tone cutting through the chaos as she scanned their surroundings. "They're coming from all sides."

John's focus sharpened, the adrenaline heightening his senses. The raptures were moving with coordination, their attacks relentless, as if probing for weaknesses. The team fought in sync, each covering the other's blind spots, but every time they seemed to gain the upper hand, another wave would hit them.

At an abandoned industrial site, the raptures launched a surprise attack, emerging from beneath piles of twisted scrap. Neon's shotgun roared, shredding through two raptures in a spray of metal shards, while John darted between blows, his movements fluid and precise. He ducked under a swipe, his fist connecting with a rapture's side and sending it crashing into a rusted machine before he drove his elbow into another rapture's head, shattering it with a sickening crunch. The impact sent a jolt through his arm, but instead of pain, he felt a surge of exhilaration.

Rapi moved beside him, her rifle spitting precise bursts that picked off raptures with mechanical efficiency. Rapi fired a missile from her rifle at a cluster of enemies, the blast rocking the ground beneath them, but she noticed the slight shift in John's demeanor—how his movements were becoming sharper, more aggressive.

"John, don't overextend!" Rapi called, watching as he lunged further into the fray, his blows becoming less measured and more forceful. But John was barely listening, his senses overwhelmed by the crackle of cursed energy, the satisfying crunch of metal under his fists.

The ambushes grew more frequent, each one perfectly timed to hit when the team was at their most exposed. As they pushed deeper into the ruins, the signs of something more deliberate began to emerge—deep, heavy footprints gouged into the ground, far larger than any rapture they'd seen before. John paused by a set of tracks, frowning as he traced their path. They weren't just leading them forward; they were circling, flanking, like a predator herding its prey.

Rapi knelt beside one of the heavy prints, her brow furrowing. "These aren't random. Whoever or whatever's making these is moving with a purpose."

Anis ran her fingers over claw marks etched into the side of a building, the grooves jagged and deep. "Climbing over walls, picking routes… It's like it's got a plan."

John's eyes lingered on the tracks, unease gnawing at him. Every instinct told him this wasn't normal rapture behavior. "They're not just reacting to us. It's almost like they're anticipating our moves."

Anis shook her head, trying to dismiss the creeping doubt. "Raptures aren't that smart, John. They don't set traps cause they don't think."

John clenched his fists, his unease growing with every step they took. "Maybe. But whatever's out here, it's not just acting on instinct. It's pushing us somewhere."

Neon gave a confident smile, resting her shotgun on her shoulder. "Doesn't matter how smart it is. We've got the firepower to deal with it."

The team pressed on, but every step felt like a tighter coil winding around them. The ambushes were wearing them down, pushing their stamina to its limits. The raptures' attacks grew bolder, with more sophisticated maneuvers that forced John and the others to constantly adapt. In one narrow alley, raptures burst from walls, tearing through old metal and forcing the team into a brutal close-quarters fight. John smashed a rapture against the concrete, his breath heavy as he looked to Rapi, who was firing in controlled bursts, keeping the pressure on.

"We're being funneled," John muttered, his voice tinged with frustration as he studied the path ahead—a wide plaza leading into a darkened building, the latest set of clawed tracks disappearing into the shadows. "It's trying to lead us somewhere specific."

Rapi kept her rifle trained on the shadows, her expression grim. "If it's setting traps, it means it knows we're a threat. We need to be careful."

John stared into the darkness, his gut churning with suspicion. He could feel the intent behind every ambush, every carefully laid route. This wasn't just a mindless rapture—it was something that understood strategy, that was deliberately pulling them deeper, waiting for the right moment to strike. It felt like a game, one that was testing not just their strength, but their resolve.

"Alright," John said, his voice steady but his mind racing. "Whatever this thing is, it's playing a different game. But if it wants us to keep going, then that's exactly what we'll do. Just don't let your guard down—not for a second."

The team nodded, steeling themselves as they stepped into the unknown, every instinct telling them they were walking straight into a trap. But there was no turning back now; they had to see this through. And whatever waited ahead, John was determined to meet it head-on.

The team moved cautiously through the tangled remains of the ruined city, their footsteps muted against the oppressive silence that hung like a heavy fog. Every step stirred a cloud of dust, every shift of rubble echoed louder than it should have in the eerie stillness. Twisted metal and shattered concrete loomed around them, forming a claustrophobic maze that seemed to close in tighter with each step. John's skin prickled with the uncomfortable sensation of being watched, a presence that hovered just beyond the edge of his vision, unseen but undeniable.

Ahead, the jagged silhouette of a derelict power station rose against the grey sky, rusted beams stretching upward like skeletal fingers. Rapi's pace slowed, her posture tense as her sharp eyes swept the area. "Alva particle concentration is high here," she murmured, her voice barely a breath above the stillness. "Stay sharp."

Anis, always quick with a quip, gave a dry chuckle as she hefted her grenade launcher. "Because that's just what we needed—another headache." But the edge in her voice betrayed the nervous energy she tried to mask with humor.

Beside her, Neon clutched her shotgun a little too tightly, her usual carefree demeanor absent. She glanced warily at the cracked walls around them. "You think these particles could mess with our systems?" Her voice wavered, though she tried to hide it behind forced bravado.

Anis, her eyes still scanning the shadows, shrugged. "It'd take way more to fry us. Don't lose sleep over it."

The tracker beeped louder, drawing them closer. Rounding the corner of the street leading to the station, John's stomach knotted. Two bodies lay crumpled amid the rubble—Mihara and Yuni. They weren't dead, but they looked like they'd been through hell. Mihara's black leather outfit hung in shreds, burnt and torn, while Yuni's pink gear was streaked with grime, her missile launcher lying discarded beside her.

Neon knelt beside Mihara, checking her pulse. "They're alive… just barely." Her voice was quiet, missing its usual playful lilt. The gravity of the situation pressed down on her, the reality of it settling like a stone.

Rapi crouched beside Yuni, her fingers moving with practiced precision as she checked for signs of life. "We've got to move," she said, her voice low and steady, but her brow furrowed. "This doesn't feel right."

Anis paced nervously, her grenade launcher shifting as her eyes darted between the surrounding buildings. "We're sitting ducks here. Too exposed." The humor in her voice had faded completely, replaced by a simmering anxiety that made her grip her weapon tighter.

John's gut twisted. His instincts screamed at him, muscles tensing, every sense screaming a warning. It was too perfect, too easy. Something was wrong—he could feel it in his bones. "Wait," he muttered, his voice a low growl. "This... this is a trap."

He barely had time to process the thought before his body reacted. Ruinous Gambit surged through him, flooding his limbs with a sudden burst of unnatural speed. The world slowed, every detail sharpening to a razor's edge as he moved, his strength draining with each step, but he didn't stop. His muscles screamed as he scooped Mihara into his arms, forcing his legs to carry him toward the others.

"Move!" His shout cut through the slow-motion chaos as he slammed into Neon and Anis, sending them tumbling out of the blast zone just as the ground beneath them erupted in a fiery explosion. Rapi leaped as fast as she could behind him, the flames of the explosion licking her heels.

The street behind them exploded in a violent blaze, the fireball expanding with terrifying speed, heat and shrapnel cutting through the air. The shockwave threw them forward, debris raining down like a storm of metal and stone. John hit the ground hard, his body aching from the impact, but he kept Mihara shielded in his arms. His chest heaved, breath shallow as exhaustion crept in, the effects of Ruinous Gambit still lingering in his weakened muscles.

Rapi was the first to regain her footing, coughing through the thick smoke that filled the air. She glanced back at the smoldering wreckage, then turned to John, her eyes wide with shock. "Commander!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the haze. "What the hell just happened?!"

John forced himself to breathe, his chest tightening as he struggled to speak. "It was... a trap," he rasped, each word dragged out. His limbs felt like lead, but his mind raced, replaying the moments before the explosion. "We were baited... they wanted us to find them."

Neon, dazed, pushed herself upright, adjusting her glasses with a wince. "Ouchie," she groaned, still trying to process the blast. "That really hurt"

Anis shook off the dust, checking her grenade launcher with a scowl. "Every damn time…" She muttered under her breath, her voice dripping with frustration. "Whoever's out there really hates us."

Before anyone could respond, the air around them thickened with an ominous shift. The sound of metal grinding against metal reverberated through the ruins, as if the very city itself was groaning in anticipation. High above, perched atop a crumbling rooftop, a massive figure loomed into view. Chatterbox.

The rapture's hulking frame blocked out the light as he stood, casting a long shadow over the team. His twisted, mechanical grin stretched wide, his gleaming red eyes fixating on them with unsettling precision. The air hummed with tension, the quiet before a storm.

Missile launchers unfolded from his back with a sharp, metallic hiss, like a predator baring its fangs. The whirring of his cannons charged the air, a low growl of impending violence. He tilted his head slightly, that grin never wavering, and in a voice that was a grating blend of deep metal and cold malice, he finally spoke.

"Found you."

Chatterbox's grin widened as he surveyed the team, his voice grinding out like rusted gears. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy killing you all," he sneered, the missile launchers on his back twitching, primed and ready. The malevolence in his tone was unmistakable, as though he relished the thought of tearing them apart piece by piece.

Neon's eyes widened, her grip tightening on her shotgun. "It... it's talking?!" her voice was laced with genuine shock. Anis, usually quick with a quip, couldn't hide her confusion. "Wait... can raptures even do that?" She glared up at the mechanical menace, her grenade launcher now pointed in his direction. "Are we even sure this thing's a rapture?"

Chatterbox's grin twisted wider, his red eyes gleaming with malevolence. "I never thought I'd get the chance to kill another sorcerer... But you, Commander, will be special to tear apart."

John barely registered the words. His pulse quickened, adrenaline surged, and all that mattered now was the fight. Without waiting for anyone to react, he launched himself forward, body coiled like a spring. The world around him blurred as he leapt toward Chatterbox, fists ready.

The rapture's missile launchers hummed to life, firing a barrage of rockets in John's direction. With fluid agility, John kicked off the incoming missiles, using them as makeshift platforms. The air crackled with heat as the projectiles screamed past him, but John's focus remained sharp, his movement precise.

The two collided midair with a bone-rattling impact, John's fist crashing into Chatterbox's metallic arm. The blow reverberated through the air, forcing the rapture back down to the ground. John landed lightly, sliding to a stop. Chatterbox let out a metallic roar and launched himself at John again.

But before their clash could resume, Rapi darted in, landing a powerful kick on Chatterbox. Her assault rifle crackled to life, forcing the rapture off course.

Chatterbox tried to recover, but Anis was faster, her grenade launcher firing a blast that struck his side. Neon followed up with rapid shotgun blasts, forcing the rapture to stagger back, sparks flying from the damage.

John's fists clenched, irritation flaring as he watched the team join the fray. For a brief moment, his battle-hungry instincts flared in annoyance, wanting the fight for himself. But it flickered out just as quickly. He gave Rapi a nod, a thin smile tugging at his lips. "Thanks for the assist," he said, his voice rough with adrenaline.

Rapi and Neon wasted no time, splitting left and right as they fired relentlessly at Chatterbox. Rapi's assault rifle barked with precision, each round sparking against the rapture's armored frame, while Neon's shotgun blasts sent jolts of power at close range. They moved in sync, weaving between cover and evading Chatterbox's retaliatory swipes, each trying to find a weak point.

"Keep him busy!" Anis shouted over the chaos, priming a grenade in her launcher. She leveled the weapon and fired, the heavy round soaring toward Chatterbox. John, already anticipating the move, surged forward in a blur of cursed energy, his speed amplifying with Ruinous Gambit. He caught up to the grenade before it reached its arming distance and delivered a powerful kick, sending it hurtling toward Chatterbox's face with incredible velocity.

The grenade exploded on impact, engulfing Chatterbox's head in a cloud of fire and debris. Smoke billowed, shrouding his upper body, but Neon saw an opening. She darted forward, shotgun in hand, aiming to fire into the damage caused by the grenade. Just as she pulled the trigger, a metal hand shot through the smoke, gripping her torso tightly.

Neon's eyes widened in shock as Chatterbox's form emerged from the smoke, his head fully regenerated, red eyes gleaming with malice. "Nice try," he sneered, before hurling Neon like a ragdoll toward Rapi. The two collided with a heavy thud, both sent tumbling to the ground.

Without missing a beat, Chatterbox charged toward Anis and John, his massive frame thundering across the broken pavement. John stood his ground, fists clenched, while Anis cracked her knuckles, ready for close combat. As Chatterbox lunged, the two met him head-on.

John dodged a sweeping punch, countering with a sharp elbow to the rapture's chest. Anis, meanwhile, ducked low and grappled one of Chatterbox's legs, pulling with the strength of a seasoned wrestler. Her style was brutish and raw, contrasting with John's fluid, technical strikes. Together, they formed an unrelenting duo, each hit coordinated to keep Chatterbox off balance.

Chatterbox roared in frustration, swinging his arms wildly, but John and Anis were too quick. Anis threw a devastating hook into Chatterbox's midsection, forcing the giant machine to stagger. John followed up with a spinning kick to the side of its head, but it wasn't enough to stop the onslaught.

In a swift motion, John and Anis grabbed both of Chatterbox's arms, locking them into holds. Chatterbox struggled, but they held firm, muscles straining against the rapture's immense strength. "Now!" John shouted through gritted teeth.

Rapi and Neon, having recovered, seized the moment. Neon's shotgun flared, the powerful blasts targeting the joints of Chatterbox's legs, while Rapi's rifle peppered its back with precision shots. With a roar, the two of them charged forward. Rapi leaped, slamming into Chatterbox's back, while Neon followed with a powerful kick, sending the rapture crashing to the ground under the combined force.

Chatterbox's fist crashed into the ground with a deafening roar, the impact sending out a violent shockwave that rippled across the battlefield. The ground beneath the Counters shook violently, knocking them off balance as the force stunned them momentarily. Dust and debris filled the air, and the air crackled with tension as the rapture's next move became clear.

With a hiss of charging energy, Chatterbox's massive particle cannon activated, the red glow from its fist casting ominous shadows across the ruined landscape. The particle beam erupted with terrifying force, a scorching crimson streak aimed directly at the team.

Anis and Neon reacted just in time, their bodies rolling desperately underneath the beam, barely dodging the deadly energy as it scorched the ground behind them. Rapi, ever agile, leaped into the air, twisting in mid-flight as the beam sliced beneath her, singeing the air but missing her by inches.

But Chatterbox's red eyes flickered in surprise as John didn't dodge. Instead, he charged straight through the beam, his body braced against the force with cursed energy reinforcement glowing faintly around him. The searing heat lashed at him, burns forming across his arms and chest, but John pressed forward, undeterred. The intense power of the beam crackled and hissed as it slammed into his cursed energy shield, but his momentum didn't slow.

With a burst of speed, John leaped, vaulting over another sweeping arc of the beam and landing directly on Chatterbox's back. The rapture let out a metallic growl as John's fists hammered down onto one of the missile launchers reloading on its back.

With a brutal punch, John's fist pierced the launcher, ripping through the metal just as several missiles clicked into place. The explosion that followed was instantaneous—a violent detonation that sent both John and Chatterbox flying in opposite directions, shards of metal and fire bursting from the launcher in all directions.

John hit the ground hard, his body skidding across the cracked pavement, burns and cuts now littering his arms and chest. The heat from the particle beam and the explosion still smoldered on his skin, the pain searing into his nerves. But despite the injuries, he pushed himself to his feet, chest heaving with ragged breaths.

Chatterbox's form reemerged from the smoke, its head swiveling toward John with a malevolent glare. Sparks flew from its damaged missile launcher, and though it was clearly injured, its red eyes still gleamed with vicious intent.

Chatterbox staggered, sparks flying from his damaged form, and his metallic voice rasped out in an attempt to insult them. "You—"

"Jump his ass!" John's shout cut him off before he could even finish, the command electrifying the team.

In an instant, they moved. John's fists blurred as he slammed into Chatterbox's torso with raw power, every blow fueled by cursed energy, sending metallic cracks echoing across the battlefield. The rapture stumbled, but before he could even react, Neon was there—her shotgun blasting at point-blank range, each shot rattling his frame, tearing into his armor.

Chatterbox spun, trying to retaliate, but Anis launched a grenade that detonated against his side, sending shrapnel and circuitry flying. The rapture roared in frustration, his body twisting toward Anis, but before he could even take a step, Rapi was already on him. Her knee landed hard and fast, followed by precise bursts from her rifle, each shot punctuated by a sharp metallic clang as it hit home.

"You—" Chatterbox tried again, his words cutting through the chaos, but before he could hurl another insult, John leaped back into the fray, his fists slamming into the rapture's jaw, knocking him off-balance.

Every time Chatterbox tried to chase one, another would intercept him. Neon darted in, unloading her shotgun, causing the rapture to twist with a snarl, only to get hit by Anis's grenade launcher again. Rapi was relentless, landing shot after shot and kick after kick, her strikes quick and brutal.

"Why... can't you—" Chatterbox sputtered, his voice crackling with frustration. But each attempt to speak was met with another attack, cutting his words short. His red eyes flared with rage as he tried to turn toward one target, only to be met with another from the other side.

Chatterbox's metallic roar reverberated through the air, a guttural sound of pure rage. The team moved in closer, ready to finish him off, but before they could land another blow, the ground beneath them erupted. The concrete split with a deafening crack, and from the depths of the earth, a massive metallic worm launched into the air, its gleaming body twisting as it shot toward the team.

In a flash, its jaws snapped shut around Neon and Anis, pulling them into its coiled grip before diving back into the ground. Dust and debris filled the air as the worm disappeared beneath the surface, leaving only the gaping hole it emerged from.

"Neon! Anis!" John shouted, immediately sprinting after the worm, his legs pumping with cursed energy. But as he closed in, something shifted in his peripheral vision. Without hesitation, he dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the brutal impact of Chatterbox's fist slamming into the spot where he had been standing moments before.

Chatterbox let out a low, mechanical growl, his red eyes gleaming with fury as he moved to block Rapi's path. But before he could attack, John spun into action, his movements fluid and precise. He grabbed Chatterbox mid-motion, using the momentum to spin the hulking rapture off balance before throwing him to the ground with a thundering crash.

"Go!" John barked, his eyes never leaving Chatterbox as the rapture recovered. "Rescue Neon and Anis. I've got this."

Rapi hesitated for only a moment, then nodded sharply. Without another word, she bolted toward the gaping hole where the worm had disappeared, her rifle at the ready.

John stood alone now, his chest heaving with adrenaline as Chatterbox rose back to his feet, sparks flickering from his damaged body. The rapture's eyes locked onto John, and for a moment, the battlefield fell silent. Tension crackled in the air as they faced each other down, two forces on a collision course.

Neither moved.