The air tasted like rusted metal.

On an abandoned rail yard illuminated by the moonlight and neon lights flickering in the distance, a group of four teenagers sprinted down the tracks, their footfalls a chaotic rhythm against the steel rails.

The shrill creak of metal echoed through the tunnels as something pushed past old, rusted trains.

Four teenagers, their faces pale with fear, scrambled down the train tracks, their breaths ragged. Something was chasing after them.

One girl tripped and fell, letting out a faint whimper.

"Guys... wait!" she gasped. "My ankle—I can't—"

Quai — a lanky boy with a sharp jawline and wild hair — skidded to a halt, his chest heaving. He doubled back, grabbing Lisa's arm and trying to pull her up.

"Come on, Lisa. Get up." His voice shook more than he wanted it to.

Behind them, a boy and another girl, panic etched across their faces, barely slowed down.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" the girl shrieked. "We need to go, Reggie...now."

Reggie's eyes darted between Quai's pleading gaze and the rapidly approaching sounds. His jaw clenched tight enough to make the muscles in his neck stand out.

"I told you coming here was a stupid idea," he muttered, a tremor in his voice. "I'm not dying for this."

He grabbed the girl's hand.

Then he ran.

"Reggie!" Quai's voice cracked, echoing unanswered through the yard. The sound of their retreating footsteps faded, leaving him and Lisa alone with the approaching horror.

Quai crouched beside Lisa, his mind racing. "Put your arms around my neck," he instructed, forcing confidence into his voice. "I'll carry you."

Lisa clung to him as he hoisted her onto his back. "Don't worry," he said, the words hollow even to his own ears.

"We're going to make it."

But Lisa wasn't listening. Her body had gone rigid, eyes fixed on something beyond Quai's shoulder.

 "The twins, they really transformed into..."

She trailed off, her eyes widening in horror at the sight in front of her.

Two Marauders.

Their forms were warped, grotesque echoes of what they once were. Their obsidian skin cracked like cooling lava, and veins pulsed beneath the surface. They moved on all fours, their limbs jerking with unnatural precision.

Their mouths, or what used to be their mouths, had split open four ways, revealing spiralling rows of teeth, twisting inward like a black hole designed to devour. Quai's stomach dropped when he saw the tattered remains of Reggie's hoodie clinging to one Marauder's claws — slick with fresh blood.

The twins had found them first.

Primal fear surged through Quai's body. He bolted, Lisa clinging desperately to his back as he staggered forward.

The Marauders shot after them, moving with impossible speed. Their claws scraped against the metal rails, sending up sparks that illuminated their twisted forms in strobe-like flashes.

One of them lashed out, catching Quai's ankle.

Pain exploded up his leg.

He collapsed, Lisa tumbling off his back and rolling across the tracks. Quai's vision blurred, but he could still see the Marauders circling them now — shadows of the friends they used to be, moving with a predator's patience.

Lisa, now covered in asphalt and tears, clawed at the ground to push herself away. Her voice trembled as she whimpered:

"Stanley... Stanford... it's me guys. Please, please — I know you're still in there."

One of them lunged, claws digging into Quai's shoulder, pinning him to the ground. His scream echoed through the station — raw and desperate — but the silence that followed quickly swallowed it.

"Someone help! ANYONE!" screamed Lisa.

Its maw opened up, ready to devour Quai, who was too petrified to even scream for his life.

And then...

A flash of light illuminated the night, temporarily making it daytime. The Marauder holding Quai exploded — its obsidian body ripped apart in a blast of searing energy. Limbs, black blood, and shards of bone splattered across the ground. The other Marauder flinched, skittering back like a wounded animal.

With relief washing over her, Lisa looked up to gaze upon her saviour. A tall figure with sun kissed skin and long, black flowing hair stood with disinterest in her eyes. The jagged crescent tattoo on her neck pulsed a deep molten amber. It was Vahari.

A second figure with significantly less presence stood beside Vahari — younger, smaller, and far less composed. Amara.

They were both dressed in white battle coats emblazoned with the Wayne Company insignia.

Amara's eyes darted from the twitching Marauder to the broken pieces of its twin scattered across the tracks.

She swallowed. She was a soldier in uniform — but not yet in practice.

"Medics will be with you soon," Amara said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. She knelt beside Lisa, helping her to her feet.

Quai, still shaking from his brush with death, clutched his bleeding shoulder, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Amara glanced back at Vahari. "What about the other one?"

 "That's not my job."

"Whose is it then...?"

Amara then realised exactly what Vahari's blunt statement meant.

"W-Wait a minute. I thought we'd agreed that I'd just follow and watch until my powers kicked in!"

"Your Aspect hasn't awakened yet, but you're still a Revenant. Your base physical capabilities are already far beyond any normal human being."

Panic and fear flashed on Amara's face. For the past six months, Vahari had put her through gruelling combat training. Of course, she had noticed that her speed and strength were a cut above even the best athletes.

But fighting a Marauder was another thing entirely.

"Besides, it's just a Thrall. You'll be fine."

She smacked Amara's back, pushing her forward, a smirk invading on her usually calm demeanour.

"Try not to die."

'This woman never smiles unless I'm suffering, it seems,' Amara thought.

Amara gulped, her throat dry as sandpaper, and took a hesitant step forward. The Thrall flinched but didn't flee, its milky eyes locked onto her every move.

Even for a Marauder, it was hideous—patches of skin peeling from its twisted frame, exposing raw sinew beneath. Its left arm was bent backward at an unnatural angle, and its legs twitched erratically. It was broken, barely holding itself together after Vahari's attack.

Amara inhaled sharply. 'Okay. I can do this.'

She edged forward, mirroring the Thrall's slow retreat. It hissed, strings of thick saliva dripping from its jagged maw. Another step. Then another. The Thrall remained still this time, its ruined body tense, waiting.

Her heart pounded like a war drum.

'What now?'

Charge? Let it strike first? She had no idea. She flicked a glance at Vahari, searching for guidance, but found nothing—just that cold, unreadable stare. No instructions. No reassurance.

She was alone in this.

The Thrall twitched.

That was all the warning she got.

It lunged, claws streaking toward her face. Amara moved on instinct, sidestepping just in time, but not fast enough. A burning pain flared across her arm where its talons raked her skin. She gasped, but her body kept moving. Her fingers clamped around the Thrall's outstretched arm and twisted.

A sickening crack splintered the air.

The Thrall shrieked, its twisted limb flailing uselessly. Its claws scraped against her shoulder, shallow but sharp enough to sting. Amara staggered back, clutching her bleeding arm.

But the Thrall wasn't finished.

It lunged again, more desperate this time. Amara was ready. She ducked low, her muscles coiled tight, and drove her foot into its knee with everything she had.

Crunch!

The Thrall collapsed, howling in agony. It was down, but not dead.

A raw, primal energy surged through Amara, overriding the pain. Before she could think, she was on top of the creature, straddling its heaving chest. Her fists clenched.

She struck.

Once. Twice.

Then again.

Her knuckles cracked against its deformed skull, each blow landing harder than the last. The Thrall spasmed beneath her, its claws weakly raking at her arms. She didn't stop. She had to finish it.

Again.

And again.

Until —

Silence.

The body beneath her stilled, its breath rattling to a halt. Amara barely noticed. Her chest heaved, her vision swam, but she forced herself to her feet.

She had done it.

She had killed a Marauder.

Relief hit her like a wave, heavy and overwhelming. Her legs trembled beneath her, and she nearly collapsed. But when she turned to Vahari, a shaky, triumphant grin breaking across her face, the stony expression she expected wasn't there.

Instead, there was a flicker of something else—something sharp.

Before she could question it, something moved behind her.

A hand shot out, claws glinting under the pale light.

Pain exploded behind her eyes, white-hot and blinding. Her body whipped sideways as if struck by a hammer, her vision bursting into scattered, spinning shapes. The ground rushed up to meet her, and the last thing she saw was Vahari's coat billowing as she moved.

Then—blackness.