“There’s that damn rock,” Brako said resentfully as he looked through one of the tunnel street’s large windows. Then he popped some pills into his mouth, chewing them like candy. “I think it’s even more imposing than before.”
Elio turned and observed with curiosity.
In the distance, connected to the intricate urban sprawl by metal walkways, tunnel streets, and multi-level roads, stood an imposing cluster of hexagonal buildings. Dozens of pipes and cables ran along its structure. Massive stones and metals protruded from its fa?ade, which reached all the way down to level zero, giving it a rocky appearance. Numerous screens and neon signs advertised everything from underground fights to food. Amidst it all, enormous letters spelled out "Guardia Pétrea."
“That’s insane!” Tania said. “All of that belongs to them?”
“Yes,” Brako answered with a hint of pride.
Is that…?
Elio focused with his cybernetic eye, emitting a subtle yet perceptible metallic sound, like the screech of poorly lubricated gears struggling to align.
In some areas, the clusters of buildings were reinforced with layers of concrete and metal, forming bunker-like structures. Inside, a few drauos clad in Akro plate armor similar to the ABA-L held machine guns and missile launchers, guarding the perimeter.
It looks like a real fortress… And its members are armed like soldiers. No wonder no one dares to attack them. Cuervo is insane if he thinks they’ll join us… He sighed. Why does he never listen to me?
“It’s too soon, Cuervo,” he finally said with resignation. “Even if Arithya, Thefuil, and Zhekog pull it off, we need more leverage. Let’s stick to the original plan and focus on bringing more gangs under our control until we’re strong enough to negotiate. We still have time.”
“There goes the buzzkill,” Tania said, crossing her arms and pouting like a sulking child. “Do you always have to be so meticulous?”
“Sometimes you have to take risks, Elio,” Cuervo said without looking at him. “You, of all people, should know that.”
Cuervo’s voice faded into the echo of his own heartbeat, each pulse like a hammer striking the anvil of his painful past. The images came with brutal clarity: the cold, sharp concrete against his cheek, the metallic taste of blood in his mouth, the sound of flesh tearing and bone shattering. The mocking laughter. The insults.
That night, he had risked the little he had for a glimpse of hope and freedom. And the result had been his current body.
Elio felt a knot in his throat—a mixture of anger and sorrow, like a chain tightening around his chest.
Why is he saying that? Is he mocking me? Or does he just not understand that it was the worst mistake of my life?
“Huh?” Tania asked, surprised. Then, twirling a strand of her red-and-black hair around her finger, she pouted. “Tin Man knows what it means to take risks?” She smirked. “I don’t buy it.” Her expression turned curious and playful. “Come on, tell us!”
Elio felt the anger overpowering the sorrow. But he didn’t let himself be carried away by emotion. That led to illogical actions. And he didn’t do those. Not anymore.
“Leave it, kid,” Brako said, placing a hand on Tania’s shoulder. Even without his skull-shaped helmet, his scarred face and his massive, armor-clad body were enough to make anyone hesitate to challenge him. “Not everyone has to shout their battles for us to know they’re warriors. Elio has the right to his secrets, just like the rest of us.”
“Oh? So you have one too, huh, big guy?” Tania leaned forward. If not for the small Akro plate protecting her chest, her tiny breasts would have been visible through the usual low-cut top she wore.
“None of your business, Tania,” Elio finally said, adjusting his glasses. “Why don’t we keep moving? Standing around here won’t get us anywhere.”
“Let’s go,” Cuervo said, and without waiting for a response, he started walking toward the walkway. His face, scarred by battles, betrayal, and the abuse of his parents, held a terrifying darkness no one dared to challenge.
Tania clicked her tongue, but like the rest of the group, she simply followed their leader in silence.
Elio walked slower than the others, always lagging behind. His mechanical legs were outdated and slightly corroded. With each heavy step he took, the screeching of metal violated the silence of the group.
Like the rest of his cybernetic body, his legs were the result of a rushed and improvised operation by a Cyberfusion Master—also known as a Cyber-Implant Medical Engineer—from his home hive. The Cyberfusion Master had done what he could with what little he had. And to be fair, the work had been far better than anyone could have expected.
Still, they left much to be desired compared to the more advanced cybernetic implants.
The group began crossing the metal walkway, the sound of their rudimentary cybernetic implants blending with the heavy thud of boots against steel. Elio watched the movement of the cylindrical tubes as his arms flexed, palms facing the sky.
Since starting his criminal career, he had amassed enough money to buy more modern cybernetic implants. Yet, he had chosen to keep the ones he had. They were a reminder of the consequences of his own stupidity. A reminder that dreams had no place in a world as brutal and cruel as this one.
And yet, despite always carrying his metallic shield with him, Cuervo’s words had struck deep within him.
“Who are you, and why are you coming to this part of the hive?” a voice asked, thick with authority.
Elio lowered his arms and looked ahead. They had reached the end of the walkway. Several members of the Stone Guard gang stood watch at the entrance to their sector of the hive.
They’re definitely used to security work.
“Huh?!” Tania snapped, her face contorted in annoyance. “And what the fuck do you care who we are or where we’re going, huh?!”
That’s not gonna help us get in… Why does she always have to be so dramatic?
“What did you just say, brat?” one of the guards shot back.
Both were clad in Akro-plated armor. One held a shotgun, with a hatchet hanging from his belt. The other carried a riot shield and a spiked mace, with a pistol holstered at his waist.
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“Can you ever shut up?” Brako growled, pushing Tania out of the guards’ line of sight—something Elio silently appreciated. “We’re with the Exterminators.”
The Stone Guards took a step back, raising their weapons, ready for a fight.
Our violent reputation has spread faster than I thought… Elio adjusted his single-lens glasses. Maybe that’ll give us more leverage in negotiations.
“We’re here to talk to your boss, Durak,” Brako continued, unfazed, his amber eyes locked onto the guard with the shotgun.
Cuervo didn’t react either.
“And why the hell would we do that?” the guard asked.
“See?” Tania tilted her head, resting one of her pistols on her shoulder. “We should just kill them and force our way in.”
“Tell him Brako is here with them,” Brako said. “I doubt he’d turn down a beer with me.”
They know each other? Elio thought, surprised.
Cuervo smiled.
***
"Copy that," one of the guards said through the communicator in his helmet. "Alright, Durak wants to see you and hear what you have to say, so we’ll escort you to our base."
That old man still can’t turn down a beer, Brako thought nostalgically.
"Wait!" Tania said as she started walking. "You know the boss of these Rockmounts? No way." She placed a finger on her cheek, pretending to be confused. Then, she looked up and side to side before lowering her finger to point at Brako. "Then again, you’re a Rockmount too, so I guess it makes sense that you know him, right?"
Brako, looking utterly confused, turned to Tania.
"‘Rockmounts?’ What the fuck are you talking about? That word doesn’t even exist."
Tania rolled her blue eyes with a smug smile. "Isn’t it obvious? They’re like mountains, but with legs and a bad attitude." She shrugged. "Or like rocks that decided to put on a uniform and play soldiers."
Brako grunted and sighed.
"You’ve got way too much imagination, kid." He tilted his head. "But yeah, for many years, I fought in their pit and even helped them out on some missions. Back then…" Brako trailed off, hesitating whether to continue or not.
"See? That’s exactly what I was saying. You’re just another Rockmount."
Brako narrowed his eyes but then let out a faint smile.
Tania winked at him, though Brako wasn’t sure if it was because she was pleased with her own cleverness or if it was meant as a sign of camaraderie.
He looked away, glancing around the area with nostalgia.
"The Rock," as this cluster of buildings was known, maintained the labyrinthine construction typical of other parts of the hive, yet it was designed in a much more orderly and coherent way. Metal platforms with staircases and elevators spanned the various levels of the structure, connecting the austere buildings and tunnel-like streets paved with stone and metal blocks. Electrical cables emerged from underground, intertwining with the structures like veins of energy that breathed life into the area. Forged lamps hung from buildings and poles, casting a dim light that blended with the neon signs of shops and bars, creating dancing shadows on the rocky walls.
The doors of an elevator opened, and the group stepped inside. One of the guards escorting them pressed a button, and the lift began to rise. A man in a work jumpsuit, half-tied around his waist, watched them ascend as he smoked a cigarette.
He’s probably wondering what we did… Brako thought. For these people, the Stone Guard is the closest thing to a National Defense Corps around here.
For a place where gangs clashed daily and life expectancy was practically nonexistent, La Roca was one of the safest zones. Members of the Stone Guard patrolled its streets and, depending on how much they were paid, provided security for the various businesses housed within. After years of brutal struggles for control over the cluster of buildings now called La Roca, the Stone Guard had taken charge of its renovation, both inside and out, turning it into something akin to a fortress. While fights and murders still occurred almost daily, and everyone had to pay a tax to live or set up shop there in exchange for protection, its inhabitants enjoyed a level of peace and stability that most hive dwellers couldn’t even dream of.
A mechanical braking sound echoed as the elevator came to a stop inside a building. One of the guards opened the door and started walking. The other waited for the group to step out before following behind, ensuring none of them "got lost" along the way.
They don’t trust us… Smart.
They continued through the interior streets of the buildings, passing through multiple doors and weaving through a maze of turns, staircases, and platforms that connected to the tunnel streets. Eventually, they emerged into a small two-level plaza built within the inner courtyard of several buildings.
Makeshift stalls and street vendors lined both sides of the plaza, leaving a narrow path for pedestrians. A diverse assortment of goods was on display—everything from outdated technology to supposedly exotic animals. Merchants shouted their offers, their voices competing against the constant murmur of the crowd.
"The double plaza market? I hadn’t realized we were heading this way," Brako thought, frowning. "They’re making us take detours to confuse us. They must think I wouldn’t remember their streets."
The group crossed the plaza and entered another tunnel street, then continued along a metal platform that ascended before merging into another street. Here, the buildings overlapped with those on the sides, varying between five and six stories tall. Plastic plants and laundry hung from balconies. The facades displayed rocky decorations and the neon glow of the occasional bar. Children ran through the street, playing with things no normal child would consider toys. Some adults chatted with each other, while others entered or exited bars.
"Are we there yet?" Tania asked, her expression bored. Her hands rested behind her head.
"We’re almost there," replied one of the guards, though he seemed somewhat confused.
Brako and the others passed through the residential area and once again continued through the labyrinth of streets and platforms. As they entered a tunnel—wider and more open than the previous ones—they found themselves in an atmosphere that exuded decadence masked as glamour.
Neon lights from various clubs and bars blended with the flickering holographic ads for drug cubes and brothels, casting reflections and shifting shadows on the uneven pavement. The interplay of light and darkness gave the street a dreamlike quality, almost like a mirage amid the harsh environment of La Roca.
The noise of the crowd filled the air—groups of young people laughing and chatting, solitary figures moving with intent, stationed guards watching the establishments and arguing with hollow-eyed patrons, shadowy figures slipping through the darkness, and members of the Stone Guard walking with imposing strides among the masses. The pulse of electronic music seeped from the venues, mingling with the murmur of conversations and the footsteps of passersby.
The air was thick with the scent of garlic and grilled rats from street kitchens, mixed with the sweet, heavy aroma of synthetic smoke and chemical fragrances, all tinged with the sharp acidity of sweat and euphoria.
Brako recognized the place immediately. He had spent years squandering his combat and mission earnings here, getting high in its narcocapsules to try to forget the guilt of causing his comrade’s death—and the shame of being cast out, not just from the Incessants, but from his own clan.
"I told you not to overdo it with the sedatives," said a voice in his head.
"What? I… Why?"
As if by magic, everything around him transformed into an urban battlefield. In his arms, pale and bloodied, lay his comrade and friend, Jorgin. In front of them, slumped against the wall of an old building, worn down by neglect and combat, were the dead bodies of several mercenaries from the Derko group. Mercenary wars, fought between companies' hired guns, were common in the streets of Ibelir’s cities.
"No, damn it, no. Jorgin… wake up, for fuck’s sake."
"Hey, big guy, I’d like to stay here too, but the others are leaving."
Brako blinked. It was Tania speaking to him now. Cuervo and the rest were watching. The battlefield was gone.
He felt a powerful urge to inject himself with Katemin, but his anger held him back. It was ironic—what he had spent years trying to erase with sedatives was now the very thing helping him resist the urge to overdose.
"That fiery curse of yours isn’t a burden, it’s your power. Rage is part of you. Don’t hide it or try to suppress it with drugs. Accept it. Master it." Cuervo had once told him.
That phrase was what had finally pushed Brako to join the Exterminators.
Brako clenched his fist, gripping it tighter than even his teeth. If not for his tough skin, he would have drawn blood.
"Let’s go, little one," he growled.
The group pressed on, leaving the drauo’s past behind. After a long walk, they reached a wide street that connected to a road with a security checkpoint. In front of them stood a massive, fortified, rock-like estate with a spherical shape, clearly remodeled from old buildings. Numerous guarded walkways linked it to the surrounding structures.
Members of the Stone Guard patrolled the entrances and the perimeter. On the building’s front facade, a symbol was displayed—a sturdy shield superimposed over the outline of a mountain.
Beneath it, the inscription read:
"Security Group – The Stone Guard."
