Sometimes, Finn wondered if hope wasn't the true face of duplicity after all; great to get you through times of uncertainty, and never failing to disappoint you when the inevitable reality crushed those delusions of an ideal world.

  He supposed it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say his relationship with the concept was a tumultuous one. Maybe that was due to his habit of throwing himself into impossible situations while being adamant about making it to the other side. In his worst moments, what kept him going was his resolve, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t on some level hold out hope when things were at their most dire.

  Such considerations could only go so far with him, though, because he still had to be the one to deal with it. He was the one who had to shoulder the responsibility for this situation.

  And yet, in spite of that realistic awareness, he hoped all the same. Hoped that their veil would work as intended for once. To hide them from the approaching threat.

  It started as a dot on the horizon, growing ever closer until he could make out its shape. Coming from up high, a massive, dark blue bird of pure ice descended towards the carrier with the predatory determination of a hawk diving for prey.

  While he’d been the one to see it first, the refugees riding in the larger rooms, started pointing at the inbound figure. Cries of alarm began as people realized what they were in for, and the auras flared yellow in a wave.

  “They found us,” Finn announced to their driver, voice calm. Regardless of his mental fatigue from the journey, he needed to come through for everyone here. Their lives were on the line. If that meant fighting, so be it. If there was anything he had been preparing for, it was moments like this.

  “Wh-” Ernesto looked up, and his eyes widened. He hid it well, but Finn could see he was afraid like the rest. Afraid, and livid. His fists balled on, knuckles whitener as they rested on the flat dashboard. The truck accelerated, never leaving the slightest mark on the snow.

  “Shade. Your senses are good, correct?” he asked, eyeing Finn. “Can you tell me who it is? That summon cannot have come alone. The flight pattern makes no sense.”

  Indeed, the ice summon was not alone. Riding on top of it was an absolute bear of a man who looked to be in his mid-to-late forties, thick dark beard framing a round face with drooping eyes which might have made him look kinder if not for the severe lines all around them emphasizing his glare.

  Finn projected a drawing of the face on the wall for Ernesto to see.

  “MIERDA!” the normally calm guy slammed his fists. “We were almost there. We…” He breathed deeply, regaining just enough composure to speak again. “We need to get out of this, fast. You could divert. Distract. Buy some time for me to circle us back to the meeting pl—”

  The icy falcon swooped down to the left. It opened its giant beak, and a cloud of white mist gathered there until it shot out in a massive breath of frost, creating a gargantuan wall of ice.

  Cutting off their planned escape route.

  Straight ahead of them, Finn saw bright vermillion flames dancing atop a permanently frozen ocean. Mar Fracturado, a place so dangerous not even primebeasts went there.

  They were cornered. Backs against the wall, literally. Finn didn't know what to think. How had they been found? This guy was obviously in Seraphim's army. The military outfit and the summoned creature made that abundantly clear. That meant the veil had been pierced somehow.

  He dismissed the thought. No time to think about that now. The first thing he needed was information. Without that, there were too many possible ways to get caught off-guard.

  “Tell me what you know about him,” Finn ordered.

  “Ah, that is Gran Comandante Pesante. One of the highest ranked men in Seraphim's army. You know what Unbound are, I would assume?”

  Finn froze.

  “Yeah,” he said, playing it cool. Inwardly, he was even tenser than before. An Unbound, right before the end of their journey? What rotten luck was this? No wonder the summon looked so much more powerful. It, like others of its kind, must have been personally assigned.

  Ernesto nodded towards where the supposed grand commander was flying back in their direction. “He creates gravitational fields around himself, it makes him a force of nature. Many have met their end facing him. Please be careful.”

  “Alright,” Finn replied. “Let me out, and go where I tell you to.”

  The driver just sighed. “It is not like I am spoiled for options.” With those words, he opened the roof for Finn to jump out of.

  Contrary to his expectations, the weather turned out to actually be quite tame compared to every other place he had been to in this continent so far. The disaster zone they were headed in the direction of was a different story, but in the place he was standing, nothing fell from the clouds.

  Not that it would have an impact on him. It was worth noting because he needed to prepare for the eventuality of the vehicle being rendered immobile. If the refugees were forced outside in lethal temperatures, that would be terrible. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case.

  Pesante and his mount flew back into Finn's range, the edge of his passive color perception. At this point, he noticed the compass-like device in his hands. A radar? That would answer his earlier question. Though that line of thought didn't occupy his mind for long.

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  Rather than give his opponent the initiative, he raised his right hand. Leather armor retracted to free two fingers. Light accumulated faster than it ever had before, a result of drastically improved control. Combined with reinforcement on his hand, the burn damage was minimal even when he shot the laser.

  Predictably, the beam warped and curved around the war veteran, repulsed by some force field. Gravitation was right then, Finn decided. The winged transport dove lower to the ground so its head was almost level with the truck. Return fire came swiftly.

  Another huge wave of mist came for him, threatening to turn their whole group into part of a new glacier.

  Spreading his arms, he channeled the maximum amount of reinforcement and kinetic energy into both, and brought them together. Full strength, not holding back whatsoever.

  The shockwave shook the air.

  Snow and mist exploded away. Beneath him, the truck wobbled, the people inside holding on for dear life. But it stabilized, and the swirling cloud settled.

  Finn’s hands were shaking, raw from the clap. He clenched them tightly to stop the tremors.

  “Go!” he sensed Ernesto shouting from below. “I will handle the bird. You keep the gravity away from us.”

  Finn pursed his lips. Handle the bird? That thing was close to the level of a colossal class? How exactly was Ernesto planning to…

  A set of wooden pillars sprouted from the ground, right in front of the crystal wings. Gravity distorted them a bit, but it was too late. They made contact before Pesante could tell it to ascend, cracking both wings and interrupting the creature's flight. The sound reached Finn a moment late as it fell and slid across the ground, kicking up snow like a steamboat carving a path through the sea.

  Wasting no time, Finn jumped off, sprinting for the pair of temporarily grounded enemies. The goal was separating them. That meant that he needed to be quick. Combined with his bursts, it barely took a few seconds to cross the last few hundred meters.

  To his surprise, the military zealot chose to dismount himself, probably recognizing that he wasn’t going to be taking flight without a struggle.

  Next to him, the summoned flyer took to the air once more, only to have a wing clipped by a laser from Finn. Restraining hands of artificial wood grew around it.

  In the truck, Ernesto sat clutching his head in pain. The man was competent, but he was never a fighter. This wouldn’t last for long, delaying was the best they could hope for.

  So here Finn was, up against an Unbound—the strongest category of superhumans in the world. On par with Viperia? Stronger? Had the countless hours of training amounted to anything?

  It was time to find out.

  Pesante spoke the moment he came within earshot. “Te aplaudo por enfrentarme. Tonto, pero valiente. No me falles, y tal vez te dé un entierro decente.”

  He understood the words perfectly, though he offered no response. Not a verbal one, anyway. He conveyed that he wasn't interested in being buried by charging up a full power punch.

  The first time he'd used this level of force, it had been sufficient to send a colossal-class primebeast sailing into the distance. The sheer energy of it had blown up his arm. Even using improved reinforcement, with his armor acting as a cast, he suffered fractures throughout the entire limb.

  When it made contact, it was little more than a light tap.

  Five meaty fingers closed around his fist and he barely had any time to react to the outline of Pesante’s right hook. In the end he had no choice but to take it on his upper left arm, protecting his ribs from getting shattered.

  Sickening cracks rang out as he saw and felt his arm crumple under the impact. The commander held onto him, punching a second time. This impact was less effective. His nanites set to work to set his body straight, prioritizing his ability to keep moving over genuine healing.

  Maintaining contact? He could play that game too. Finn hadn't used this function often since coming back to this dimension, but he remembered how. In most cases, the reason he didn't use it more often was range. Here, that obviously didn't matter.

  Pesante’s grip on his fist was ironclad, the man’s gravitational field pressing down like a vice, but Finn didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned into it, letting the nanites in his body do the work. Under his guidance, the colony built up a charge, the nanites humming faintly as they gathered energy. It was a delicate process: too much, and he risked frying his own systems; too little, and it wouldn’t even make Pesante flinch. But skin contact changed everything. No field, no barrier, no distance to weaken the effect.

  A faint blue glow emanated from where their hands met, crackling faintly like static before a storm. Finn could feel the nanites aligning, their microscopic structures vibrating in unison, ready to deliver the shock. Pesante’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of recognition crossing his face, but it was too late.

  Finn released the charge.

  The electric shock surged through their connection, a jagged bolt of energy that hissed and spat as it coursed into Pesante’s body. The man’s grip tightened instinctively, his gravitational field flaring in response, but the disruption was enough. For a split second, the oppressive weight of the field wavered, flickering like a dying lightbulb. Finn seized the opportunity, twisting his wrist to break free and driving his other fist toward the towering man’s chest.

  The amount of force he could deliver wasn't as great since he had to capitalize on an opportunity, but it was a solid hit, eliciting a grunt. Followed by an amused chuckle. “Astuto.”

  Avoiding the counter was impossible, it felt like. Finn had extricated himself, made distance, and yet he could see the outline encompassed a bigger area than he could physically move away from in a split second. All defenses were pushed to the limit.

  Slamming a hand downwards, Pesante generated a wave of gravity that bore down on Finn. Ground cratered, forced to endure the increased weight of his body.

  He crossed his arms above his head instinctively despite knowing it wouldn’t help. Black hair pressed against his head, somehow feeling heavy even though it was hair. Breathing in these conditions was wishful thinking at best. Just like getting his muscles to move.

  An invisible mountain pressed down on him. Every muscle screamed in protest as he strained against the overwhelming force pressing down on him. His arms, still crossed above his head, trembled violently, the nanites working furiously alongside his power to reinforce his bones and tissues against the relentless pressure. His vision blurred at the edges, the world narrowing to the sight of Pesante’s boots crunching through the snow, each step deliberate and unhurried. The man’s expression was unreadable. Calm, almost bored, as if this were a routine exercise rather than a life-or-death struggle.

  Farther back, in the truck, Ernesto was nursing a nose bleed. The wooden restraints on the bird summon started flagging, leaving them minimal time before it broke free. But Finn couldn’t move, let alone get over there.

  A kick came flying for his face, promising to crush his skull.

  Finn reacted.

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