Lord-Campione
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Chapter 019: Shards of Power
🕑 Added 2025-01-19 23:28:25 +0000 UTCAdrian sprinted through the narrow streets of Blüdhaven, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His heart pounded against his ribs, adrenaline pumping through his veins as his boots splashed through puddles left by a recent rain. The salt-laden air from the nearby docks clung to his skin, heavy and damp, making every step feel like he was running through molasses.
Behind him, the faint tap of boots on concrete echoed steadily, deliberate and unhurried.
“Run faster, little mouse,” came Lady Vic’s sing-song voice, her British accent tinged with dark amusement. “I’d hate for this to end too soon.”
Adrian cursed under his breath. He didn’t know the layout of Blüdhaven’s dock district—every alley, every turn looked the same. The maze of shipping containers, warehouses, and rusting machinery offered plenty of places to hide, but Lady Vic was relentless.
He ducked into an alley, narrowly avoiding a glinting Thuggee blade that whistled past his ear and embedded itself in a wooden crate with a dull thunk.
“Christ,” Adrian muttered, diving behind a stack of barrels as the sound of her footsteps grew louder. He fumbled in his pocket for anything useful—a stray nail, a lighter—but found nothing.
“You know,” Lady Vic called, “this isn’t personal. Just a job, darling. You can stop running anytime and make this easier on both of us.”
Adrian ignored her, darting across the alley and into a loading dock. His hand scraped against the edge of a rusted railing as he vaulted over it, ignoring the sting. He was good at running—years of fights, both in the ring and out, had made him an expert at survival. But this was different.
This wasn’t a brawl. This was a hunt.
The docks opened up before him, a sprawling labyrinth of warehouses, shipping containers, and cranes. The air smelled of brine and rust, and the distant cries of seagulls mingled with the faint hum of machinery.
Adrian zigzagged between the rows of containers, his boots pounding against the wet pavement. He didn’t dare look back. He could feel her closing in.
Then it happened.
The gunshot was deafening, echoing through the still night air. Adrian’s leg buckled beneath him as a searing pain tore through his right thigh. He stumbled, his hand flying to the wound as blood seeped through his fingers.
“Ah, there we are,” Lady Vic said, her tone almost cheerful. She stepped into view, her red-and-gold suit gleaming under the flickering light of a nearby streetlamp. In her hand was a sleek Webley revolver, smoke still curling from the barrel.
Adrian gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stand. The pain was blinding, but he couldn’t stop. Not now.
“You’re persistent, I’ll give you that,” Lady Vic continued, holstering her gun as she approached. “But persistence only gets you so far, love.”
Adrian lunged into a nearby warehouse, slamming the heavy metal door behind him.
The warehouse was dark, lit only by the faint glow of moonlight filtering through broken windows. Rows of rusting machinery and forgotten crates filled the space, offering Adrian some semblance of cover.
He limped deeper inside, his hand pressed tightly against his bleeding leg. His eyes darted around, searching for anything he could use.
Think, Wells. Think.
He found a pile of old, rusted tools—wrenches, chains, a crowbar. Grabbing the crowbar, he tucked himself behind a stack of crates, forcing himself to steady his breathing.
The door creaked open behind him.
“Oh, baby,” Lady Vic called. “Do you really think hiding will help? I’ve been doing this a long time, love. I always find my prey.”
Adrian tightened his grip on the crowbar, his knuckles white. His pulse thundered in his ears as her footsteps echoed through the warehouse.
“Hmm,” she mused, the sound of her voice moving closer. “What a charming little hideout. Shame it’s going to be your tomb.”
He waited until her shadow passed his hiding spot, then swung the crowbar with all his strength.
It connected with her side, the metal striking her ribs with a sickening crack. Lady Vic stumbled, letting out a sharp gasp, but recovered almost instantly.
“Well,” she said, her tone sharper now, “looks like the mouse has claws.”
Adrian didn’t give her a chance to retaliate. He threw a handful of rusted nails at her, forcing her to raise her arms in defense, then shoved over a stack of crates, sending them tumbling toward her.
Lady Vic flipped backward, avoiding the crates with acrobatic ease. She landed in a crouch, her braid swinging behind her as she pulled two flintlock pistols from her belt.
Adrian dove behind a metal beam as the shots rang out, sparks flying as the bullets ricocheted off the machinery around him.
Adrian’s breathing was ragged, his leg screaming in pain as he hobbled toward the warehouse’s back exit. He’d managed to injure her, but it wouldn’t be enough. She was too skilled, too relentless.
He reached the door, his hand on the rusted handle, when he felt a sharp, burning pain tear across his back.
Adrian collapsed forward, his vision swimming. Blood soaked his shirt as he turned his head to see Lady Vic standing over him, her katana gleaming with his blood.
“You put up a good fight,” she said, her voice calm, almost admiring. “Better than most, really. But it’s over now.”
Adrian gritted his teeth, forcing himself to meet her gaze. “You don’t have to do this,” he said, his voice strained. “I’m not worth the trouble. Whoever’s paying you, I’ll double it. Triple it.”
Lady Vic smirked, kneeling beside him. “Oh, darling, this isn’t about the money anymore. You’re far more interesting than my usual contracts. A little mouse with such clever tricks.”
“Then maybe you’ll appreciate this one.”
Lady Vic’s eyes narrowed as Adrian pulled something from his pocket. Before she could react, a searing green laser shot out, narrowly missing her head. She jerked back, the beam slicing through a support beam behind her.
“Cheeky,” she said, impressed, as she pinned his hand to the ground with her sword. Adrian screamed as the blade pierced through flesh and bone, pinning him like a butterfly on a board.
She leaned closer, tapping the ring on his finger. “What’s this, hmm? A trinket?”
Her smirk vanished as the ring began to glow.
Adrian’s skin rippled unnaturally, the flesh around the ring turning translucent. A greenish crystal began to sprout from his arm, spreading rapidly up to his shoulder and neck.
Lady Vic jumped back, her eyes wide with shock. “What in bloody hell—?”
The crystal pulsed, shifting from emerald green to an eerie blackish-yellow. Adrian’s body convulsed as the crystal overtook him, his screams morphing into guttural growls.
Then, the light exploded.
A massive beam of energy shot upward, slicing through the warehouse like it was paper. The roof disintegrated in an instant, the night sky above illuminated by the blinding yellowish black light. The ground trembled as the beam carved into the air, leaving a trail of thunderous explosions in its wake.
When the light finally faded, the warehouse was in ruins.
Lady Vic let out a low whistle, twirling her katana once before sheathing it. “The money’s not enough to cover the cost of killing a Meta,” she muttered. “So, congratulations, boy. You get to live.”
She turned, pausing as the faint wail of sirens reached her ears, growing louder as they approached the docks. A thin smile played on her lips, her braid swaying as she walked toward the shadows.
“Good luck, boy,” she called over her shoulder, her voice echoing in the empty, ruined warehouse. “You’ve become quite the catch for a lot of powerful people with those powers of yours. I wonder what they are.”
With that, she slipped into the night, her crimson and gold figure vanishing as if she’d never been there.
The sirens drew closer, the sound blending with the faint crackle of broken crystal under Adrian’s still body.
[ Warehouse ]
