Akio heard the alarms long before he saw the smoke. From the rooftops, the city unfolded beneath him in jagged lines of panic: civilians evacuating, responders shouting, dust clouds rising from a half collapsed structure a few blocks ahead.

  The Dawn Hound moved without hesitation, boots striking concrete in clean, controlled beats. Gabriel kept pace beside him—silent, seamless, perfectly attuned. Together they were a rhythm, vaulting across the roofs, sliding under hanging cables, leaping the final gap in effortless tandem.

  Akio descended first, sliding along the fractured outer wall before flipping inward through a broken window frame. Shards of glass crunched beneath his boots as he scanned the devastation. So far, there were no hostiles or movement. Just dust, crumbling drywall, and the echoing groan of stressed support beams.

  “Upper west side,” Gabriel murmured through comms.

  Akio nodded. “Let’s move.”

  They advanced quickly, weaving through fallen beams and half buried furniture, their steps light despite the uneven terrain. Every motion was efficient, practiced, the kind of coordination forged through countless missions.

  And then Akio saw him.

  Standing amid the ruin, arms crossed, clothes dusted in powdered concrete, wearing an expression that could only be described as mildly irritated—

  Damien.

  Just… staring at the collapsed ceiling like it had personally offended him.

  Akio came to a halt. Externally, the Dawn Hound was a statue—still, unreadable, all professionalism. Internally? A smug, incredulous laugh punched through his chest.

  He tapped the private comms channel, the one only he and Gabriel shared.

  “There’s no way.”

  Gabriel’s answering aura of glee was immediate.

  “Oh my god,” he whispered, voice trembling with suppressed laughter. “This is the best day of my life.”

  Damien finally looked up, spotting them through the haze. His tone was painfully flat.

  “Oh. The Twin Hounds.”

  Akio felt the secondhand smugness rise again—an instinctive, almost feral urge to troll Damien into next week. But he forced it down. Absolutely not. He could not slip up here. Damien couldn’t know who they were.

  He straightened, modulator smoothing his voice into something cool and distant. He even stepped just a little closer—vigilante boots giving him extra height, letting him look slightly down at Damien for once.

  “Are you all right, sir?” he asked, tone crisp and professional.

  Damien placed a hand over his chest with dramatic disdain. “Absolutely not. The structural integrity of this entire building is abysmal. Truly haphazard. Whoever approved these renovations should be ashamed.”

  Akio felt his lips twitch behind the mask. This was the most Damien answer possible.

  “I see,” he managed. “You could file a formal complaint with the construction company once this is over.”

  “A complaint?” Damien scoffed. “Too lenient. I want whoever is responsible investigated and fired.”

  Gabriel stepped forward smoothly, slipping into his Dusk Hound persona without missing a beat. “We’re here to escort you to safety, sir. This way, please.”

  Damien brushed past him with a dismissive wave, utterly unfazed by the destruction around them. “I’d hope that would be the least you can do. Now, enough talking. Get to it.”

  Akio exchanged a glance with Gabriel. The shared amusement crackled silently between them before they fell into formation, flanking Damien on either side like two overqualified bodyguards escorting the world’s most dramatic civilian.

  Akio kept his eyes on him, silent amusement simmering beneath the mask. Of all the rescue missions they’d done, this one had to be in the top three strangest. Maybe the top one.

  Gabriel’s voice crackled softly through the private comms channel—shaky with barely contained laughter.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “Do you remember,” he whispered, “how he fell off his platform mid monologue?”

  Akio inhaled sharply through his nose, fighting the upward twitch at the corners of his mouth as the memory resurfaced: Damien, standing on a high platform during his dramatic speech—only to topple off mid sentence after Akio launched a perfectly calculated projectile straight at his forehead.

  The memory hit him so hard he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep steady. He could not break composure here. Not with Damien right in front of them.

  Then a faint tremor rippled under their feet.

  The ground ahead gave way in a violent shudder—concrete crumbling into a plunging drop. Dust exploded upward. Damien lurched forward, a step from going right over the edge.

  Akio moved on instinct.

  He caught Damien by the shoulder—firm, steady, stopping him cleanly at the brink. They now stood on a narrow ledge that jutted out over the newly formed pit.

  “Careful,” Akio said, voice low and even. “You wouldn’t want to fall off again—”

  He froze, realizing his mistake a second too late, before recovering:

  “…sir.”

  Damien stared at the collapsed floor for a long beat, processing. Slowly, very slowly, he turned to Akio.

  “Excuse me?” he asked, blinking.

  Behind them, Gabriel was physically vibrating. He had turned away, shoulders trembling under his cloak, the Dusk Hound mask hiding everything except the unmistakable posture of a man on the brink of feral laughter.

  Akio wasn’t doing much better. He shut his eyes for a moment to stop himself from doubling over. Damien’s baffled expression was dangerously close to destroying his composure.

  When he trusted himself to speak, Akio managed, “It would be… really. Tragically unfortunate if it happened. Mid speech.”

  Damien’s brow twitched ever so slightly. “…Right.” He still looked faintly confused, as if trying to decode whether he’d been insulted, warned, or both.

  Akio breathed out, forcing calm back into his demeanor as if he hadn’t just come within a millimeter of laughing straight through his voice modulator. Gabriel mirrored the motion beside him—shoulders rising and falling in a controlled breath before he gestured toward the clearest remaining path.

  They maneuvered around the shattered flooring, boots crunching over debris until they reached a wide ridge overlooking a dizzying drop. Akio leaned forward slightly, gauging distance and angles.

  He and Gabriel could make that jump easily. A clean drop, a wall run, maybe two quick boosts off the broken beams jutting out across the pit. Child’s play.

  But for a normal civilian…? Not a chance.

  Akio’s gaze drifted to the side, catching on a thick industrial cable bolted into the wall. It stretched downward at a slanted angle, and attached to it—swaying gently in the open air—was a pulley wheel fitted to a dented metal transport bucket. A sort of miniature cable car meant for hauling tools and small loads between floors.

  Slowly, a very stupid, very tempting idea formed.

  Akio tapped the private comm channel. “Do you remember the photo I sent you from the amusement park?”

  Gabriel’s head tilted. His voice came back laced with dangerous amusement. “The one on the rollercoaster ride?”

  Akio’s grin sharpened behind the mask. “Mhm. He’s terrible with vertigo.”

  They exchanged a single look—wicked, synchronized, beautifully malicious.

  Without another word, both vigilantes shifted course toward the pulley. Their movements were swift and purposeful, executed with theatrical professionalism. Akio inspected the cable, checking the bolts and tension like he was prepping official rescue equipment. Gabriel conjured a series of floating crimson card constructs, slicing away hanging chunks of debris that might obstruct the cable’s path.

  Damien watched them from a short distance away, arms crossed, expression composed—at first. Then the reality of what he was seeing began to settle in. His eyes widened.

  “What,” he said slowly, “are you doing?”

  Akio glanced over with impeccable neutrality. “This is the most secure and efficient method of transporting you safely to the lower level, sir.”

  Gabriel nodded, equally calm. “The route is clear. We should proceed without delay.”

  Before Damien could form a rebuttal, the Twin Hounds flanked him—each taking one arm with smooth, practiced precision. In a single unified motion, they guided him into the metal bucket like two polite attendants placing a customer into a theme park ride.

  Damien sat frozen, knees awkwardly bent, posture stiff as steel. He looked exactly like a man sitting in a shopping cart moments before a terrible decision.

  “Wait—don’t—”

  His protest cut off as Akio and Gabriel delivered a coordinated kick to the back of the container.

  The pulley shrieked, the bucket lurched forward—and Damien shot down the cable at high velocity.

  “AAAUUWWWWWGGHHH—!”

  His scream echoed through the hollow structure, bouncing off steel and concrete, fading only as he became a rapidly shrinking figure sliding deeper into the building.

  Akio’s composure shattered.

  He folded in half instantly, laughter erupting out of him in a silent, violent convulsion. His whole body shook, one hand braced on his knee, the other clamped over his mask as if that could possibly contain the absolute feral joy tearing through him.

  Gabriel didn’t even make it to the wall. He just collapsed against the nearest intact beam, sliding halfway down it as his mask tilted skyward, shoulders trembling so hard he looked like he was malfunctioning.

  Akio’s stomach cramped from how hard he was laughing. He had fought monsters, anomalies, villains, horrors lurking in the dark—and none of it compared to the pure, unfiltered gratification of watching Damien Morvane shoot helplessly down that cable like a dramatic sack of potatoes.

  He wiped the tear tracks beneath his mask with the heel of his hand, breaths still shuddering from how hard he’d been laughing.

  “Come on,” he managed, voice steadier than he felt. “Let’s go.”

  They dropped through the fractured floors with effortless precision, sliding along angled beams and stepping lightly over broken rebar.

  The pulley bucket had come to a stop against a crooked support column. Damien sat inside it, hands clutching the rim, staring straight ahead with the hollow stare of a man whose entire worldview had temporarily blue screened.

  Akio stepped forward with the utmost professionalism, as though the sight of Damien sitting like discarded luggage in a metal bucket weren’t the funniest thing he had ever witnessed. Gabriel mirrored him from the opposite side. Together, with the calm efficiency of seasoned rescue operatives, they lifted Damien out of the container like they were unloading an inconveniently shaped suitcase from airport baggage claim.

  Damien wobbled once his feet touched solid ground. Akio steadied him with a firm grip to the shoulder, then they guided him toward the nearest exit.

  The sunlight outside was bright and pure, casting long warm shadows across the rubble. Akio and Gabriel both gave Damien a polite pat on the back before the two of them leapt upward in a synchronized bound, clearing the ruined wall and disappearing onto the rooftops.

  Only once they were several blocks away, soaring over the bright afternoon skyline, did both of them completely break.

  Akio doubled forward mid leap, laughter pouring out of him in sharp, breathless bursts. Gabriel’s cackling echoed through the comms, high and unhinged, his airborne silhouette trembling like he was physically shaking apart.

  “That,” Akio said breathlessly, “has got to be the best rescue we’ve ever done.”

  ─ ? NEXT CHAPTER POV ? ─

  Damien