“...and that brings me to my next point against the so-called Doom Suppression Force. Eleven days! Eleven days since brave, truth-seeking citizens exposed the DSF and their hidden Hero and yet the Glass Maestro has not made another appearance.”

  “There you go again Professor, ignoring answers the DSF has already given. The Glass Maestro is the very reason the Doom Tower’s threat levels are so low. He and another Hero they’re refusing to name are the first humans to enter the Doom Tower and for their efforts, Manila is still in one piece. Besides, I heard the Glass Maestro isn’t even from this country, what business does he have saving us? What happened to our own Regalia Heroes?”

  Xavier shut the car radio off before the ranting Professor could offer a response that would surely be scathing. He stared down the sun as it set, unable to look away from the orange rays warming his cheeks even now. After eleven days there were still smoke trails that went up from several points in the Doom Tower’s DoomField and even in isolated parts of the city— Even near home.

  He had begun seeing Belua more often now, the Sigbin, as if they followed him back home whenever he was done Tower Chasing. That’s exactly what they’re doing. Xavier glued himself to any word, mutter and rumour concerning the Glass Maestro or other Regalia Heroes. There was much chatter to work through, a ton of misinformation, personal opinion and conspiracy speculation to sieve through but Xavier didn’t have to wait long to get the truth from the source.

  The very night the Doom Tower’s attacks ceased, the internet and all media outlets were flooded with videos of what truly happened, videos of the Glass Maestro battling Belua. As a Tower Chaser himself, it left a bitter taste in his mouth that he missed such a legendary score like that. A one minute, original clip of the Glass Maestro in action would sell for six months’ worth of bills and trouble right now.

  But it didn’t matter that night and it only barely does now. Xavier had far greater concerns to attend to than risk his life Tower Chasing in a heavily active DoomField, and he was glad he didn’t. The videos of the Glass Maestro working and fighting side by side quickly had the nation and the world pressing the DSF for answers.

  Surprisingly, they answered. Among many of those answers was a truth Xavier had come to learn by himself; Belua hunt Regalia Wielders.

  Xavier rolled his head to look at his sister. Mahal dangerously slurped a smoothie and drove wanton with one hand on the wheel. Her hair was a short brown but more than enough to tie in a cute, spiky bun. She wore jean shorts and had red bathroom slippers to go with her baggy red hoody.

  She caught his look and offered her smoothie, “You’re brooding again, why does this still disturb you? I keep saying, the DSF can’t force you to do anything and you aren’t obligated to be Manila’s hero either.”

  Xavier snorted and continued to scowl at the broken landscape. Night had come but there was light enough to witness the scar of destruction that grew in intensity and scale as Mahal drove closer to the DoomField. They drove down a nearly empty highway, the unscathed neighbourhoods below were long since cleared out as the DSF expanded the range of their evacuation orders to keep citizens safe, even though Belua continued to slip through to populated centres anyway.

  Likely hunting for Regalia Wielders. Xavier thought as Mahal swerved around debris, “I know that already, I didn’t want the noise.”

  She made a noise that didn’t sound like she believed him and went back to slurping and driving. They dropped from the highway into a main street once Mahal could see a DSF blockade. It wasn’t manned but had a station tower with three drones that would download everything about their identity if they were caught on its cameras. Xavier didn’t need that kind of attention.

  He found the blockade annoying like most other Tower Chasers because they were some of the main reasons it was put up along roads leading to the DoomField. After two weeks of earning the title ‘Hell on Earth’ few of Manila’s denizens needed to be told twice not to approach the DoomField.

  Save looters and Tower Chasers, there was one other subset of people that were brave or foolish enough to approach the DoomField— Regalia Heroes. Xavier didn’t consider himself a hero but he couldn’t deny an attraction to everything Doom. His attraction existed long before the Towers fell down but once they did, they unlocked an entire new life, new perspective and interest.

  “You should put on your skates now, right? I’m still worried about what the DSF said about the DoomField are you sure you want to go on a hunt today?” Mahal said as she manoeuvred around a thickening cluster of broken debris from uprooted buildings. They were quickly approaching their final destination, at the end of the road where the cluster of debris, growing roots and fallen infrastructure became too much to number.

  Xavier pulled up his bag from the backseats and took out obsidian black rollerskates that glistened like a mirror. They pair of skates weren’t always black or this shiny looking, the change had occurred the moment the Doom Tower thundered onto Manila and Xavier’s Regalia manifested.

  “Stop worrying, I’ve never given you any reason to have I?” Malah gave him a scrutinizing look that had him stifle a smile in the midst of his brooding. Xavier rolled his eyes at his older sister and began putting on the last piece of his Chaser outfit.

  “Those monsters come after Regalia Heroes don’t they? The DSF keeps warning that their threat level might return to what it was.” Malah continued to worry.

  “I’ll be ready for anything, Malah, and if there are nasty surprises I’ll just film a minute or two and get out, I promise.” Xavier said, switching to the other foot, “Besides, my Regalia powers allow me to move faster than anyone and I’ve got good defence too. All I really need to lookout for is more Belua Nuclei, more keeps me strong and on top.”

  Malah brought the car to a stop just as Xavier stomped his foot in for good measure. He smirked at his sister and opened the door to leave with his backpack. Besides his obsidian black skates, Xavier had on baggy trousers for mobility, a large jacket hoodie that covered the bulletproof undershirt and hidden bodycam he wore underneath. A combat belt hung around his waist with a holster for the stolen DSF-grade sawed-off shotgun the jacket hoodie covered and a thick battle knife. His hair was nowhere to be seen under the stolen DSF helmet jerry-rigged with a second camera he controlled from his phone.

  “Remember, once its dawn I need you to be here and have the engine running, don’t bother about fuel. I’ll be back soon, with clips worth something hopefully.” Malah gave a thumbs up and he shut the door of the month old car his first escapades with his powers allowed him to buy.

  Up ahead, beyond the clutter of dark trees and crumbling storey buildings was the ‘spot’. There wasn’t really an official name for the place Tower Chasers gathered before each run, but there wasn’t a need for one as it changed with nearly every run. Tower Chasers weren’t a company of friends or even like-minded people, having been in the community Xavier understood better than most that it wasn’t the best of places to make friends and yet, in the past eleven days he’d made more enemies than he thought was possible. He dreaded showing his face at times but it had to be done— For posterity.

  He crouched through and vaulted over tangled branches and concrete fragments before he laid eyes on the gathering of Tower Chasers. There were at least thirty people present and loitering nearby a car wash that was partly overrun by dark trees, though, judging by the shanked roots and piles of chopped branches, an effort had been made to clean todays spot.

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  The first people to set eyes on Xavier were the exact people he wanted to meet and greet first. Daniel and Hannah, his managers— and the other reason why he didn’t simply Tower Chase without arriving at spots— waved him over. They were talking to some other Chaser, a woman he’s seen once or twice before— no one was guaranteed a comeback as a Tower Chaser, the DSF would arrest and prosecute those they caught in an attempt to curb Tower Chasing and many others would disappear, murdered by Belua or their destruction.

  Having a manager made it so that if you got caught you would get a good lawyer and if you died your wealth would be delivered where it needs to be. But no pro Tower Chaser signed on with managers with failure in mind.

  “Hey.” Xavier greeted in monotone as he skated over. The lady Chaser eyed him head to toe before excusing herself. She was shrouded in a long dark cloak but Xavier could guess what she had underneath. Armour piercing protection, a plethora of pockets, gas canister too maybe and a few weapons.

  Daniel, a large Filipino man with an anchor tattoo on his forearm sighed at him, “Xavier, you’re late again. Were you hoping they would thin out before you arrived?”

  “I’m not late. It’s an hour before a new horde comes out the Tower right?”

  Hannah shifted her weight and shook her blond head at him, she was pretty for a foreigner, “That’s the thing. DSF chatter is all over the place today, they aren’t sure whether the twelfth or thirteenth day is the biggest deal.”

  Xavier tried not to roll his eyes. The DSF’s public declaration of facts made too much seem like some mythical fiction dependent on time and special people. Everyone acted about like there was a clock ticking down to doom over their heads even though the people that said so weren’t even certain. It annoyed him.

  “I know how you feel but it doesn’t change anything. You’re our best, maybe the best outside yknow who, we don’t want to take any chances so you’re coming back out an hour earlier today, got it?” Daniel folded his arms so decisively all that was left for Xavier to do was nod.

  He did ask, “What should I prioritize bringing in tonight then?”

  Hannah shared a look with Daniel before eying Xavier. She sucked her teeth and said, “A couple more weapons if you can spare the time. Battle footage as usual, the longer, clearer the better. If you can get your hands on those Health Sprites the DSF use that’ll be awesome.”

  “There’s still a market for the Doom Crystals you got last time, mine some if you can but don’t waste your time if you can’t.” Daniel added.

  Xavier nodded, just about everything they asked for would be sold to private collectors and citizens morbidly curious about what occurred within DoomFields. The hardest part of Xavier’s job wasn’t stealing from the DSF but securing a clear and long footage of their battles against Belua, the videos were once an awe to witness and sold to news stations at high prices. The world wanted to know after all, it wanted to know bad enough that when the news stations simply began reusing footage and buying new ones less, a black market cropped up to meet the people’s demand.

  Streamers, react channels and even journalistic sites and good old rich people filled in the hole in Tower Chaser’s economy. But footage was only the second most valuable thing he could get out of the DoomField. The Doom Crystals were currently the rarest crystals on the planet and the most difficult to attain, so, of course the rich folk would pay high dollar for even the smallest piece to make it out of the DoomField.

  “Those Crystals are something else though, Daniel. Might need to get another one of those diamond drillers, too tough.” Xavier complained.

  “After tonight.”

  “If you say so.” Xavier shrugged and looked out at the other Tower Chasers, a couple had noticed him and were throwing glances his way but most minded themselves and their managers. “I’ll see you then, it’s almost time.”

  “Don’t forget, an hour earlier!” Hannah said, matching Daniels stern posture with her crossed arms but her face was nothing as intimidating.

  He left without a word, skating over the gravel and grass without so much as resistance on his wheels, his Regalia. He came to a stop just at the edge of the drop, a sloppy, destroyed part of the earth where trees became more than buildings and roots more than roads. It was deep, dark but it was the same abyss he’d been leaping into for over a week now. Xavier felt numb to it.

  He felt numb to a lot of things now. He was already on the path to making a rich living even with his older sister as a dependent but once Regalia got into the mix…We’re already rich, richer than I ever aspired to be anyway.

  “Maybe that’s my fault, I should have larger goals than just enough for the two of us.” Xavier muttered.

  A heavy hand fell on his shoulder, “Eh? I didn’t catch that or were you talking to yourself again? Skater X?”

  Xavier groaned, his frustration cutting through the humid night air as he ducked under Kevin’s outstretched arm. There was only one person who ever called him that, and sure enough, it was Kevin. A stocky, middle-aged man with a frame that hinted at an average fitness level, Kevin’s tactical gear clung to him like a costume—a convincing enough fa?ade to momentarily fool a DSF agent into mistaking him for military personnel. But Xavier knew better.

  It wasn’t Kevin’s pseudo-military bravado that made him insufferable.

  “Skater X, back at it again, huh?” Kevin’s voice grated with the smugness of someone who thought they’d won before the game even started. “Didn’t you hear the forecast? High chance of a DoomField hitting Iota level. That’s First Surge territory, man. You sure you won’t end up as dust?”

  Before Xavier could respond, a lackey—one of Kevin’s nameless goons, whose presence barely registered as significant—chimed in with a smirk. “Yeah, you might wanna sit this one out.”

  Xavier’s eyes flicked past the lackey as two more henchmen emerged from the shadows behind Kevin, who stood centre stage with his trademark pompous grin. They were inseparable, these clowns, always following Kevin like he was their king. It would’ve been laughable if it weren’t so irritating.

  Kevin and Xavier had been rivals long before the First Surge, back when life still had a semblance of normalcy. But when the Surge hit, Xavier knew better than to waste what he thought might be Manila’s last breath Tower-chasing. Kevin, on the other hand, had thrown himself headfirst into the chaos, driven by either desperation or sheer recklessness—Xavier wasn’t sure which. With no attachments or anything of real value to lose, Kevin had managed to capture footage of the Glass Maestro during that fateful battle for Manila. Even now, he hoarded unreleased clips of the hero’s legendary first stand, milking his fleeting claim to fame for all it was worth.

  He’s made far more than I have, Xavier thought bitterly. And that’s saying something.

  “There’s no need for this, Kevin,” Xavier said flatly. His tone was calm, but his jaw tightened. “I’m here for the same reason as everyone else. Tell your lackeys they can relax—I’m not gunning for you. Not today.”

  Kevin sneered, the corners of his mouth curling like a serpent about to strike. “Don’t think you’re hot stuff just because you’re solo. Let’s see how far you get without a team watching your back.”

  Xavier smirked, his eyes gleaming with quiet defiance. “I think I’ll get at least a foot farther than you would alone—and that’s me being generous.”

  “How dare you—!” one of the lackeys barked, stepping forward like a guard dog off its leash, but Kevin silenced them with a raised hand.

  “Hahaha, let’s cut the chatter. Actions speak louder than words,” Kevin said with a theatrical flourish. “It’s time.”

  And it was.

  Across the hill, the Doom Tower loomed like a jagged monolith of chaos, its silhouette haloed by an otherworldly glow. Within its field of destruction and relentless terraformation, crystals buried deep within the surrounding foliage pulsed with an unnatural light. The air vibrated with a low, ominous hum, growing steadily louder as the so-called Thirteenth Hour struck. Veins of light snaked along the tower’s surface, pulsating like the lifeblood of some ancient, slumbering beast. The hum crescendoed into a piercing, mechanical screech that echoed across the landscape, sending a chill down even the most seasoned Chaser’s spine.

  Xavier turned to watch as panic rippled through the crowd. The sound of Doom alone was enough to unravel the nerves of many would-be challengers. One by one, dropouts abandoned their positions, retreating into the relative safety of the shadows. Even those in tightly-knit teams faltered, their resolve crumbling under the weight of the Tower’s presence.

  Exactly why I’ll never form a team, Xavier thought, shaking his head as he adjusted the straps of his worn backpack. He took a quick headcount of the Chasers who hadn’t been scared off—an already small number that had just gotten even smaller. Perfect.

  With a final glance at Kevin’s smug face, Xavier stepped forward, his heart pounding with the thrill of the unknown. He didn’t hesitate as he hurled himself over the edge and into the abyss below. The wind roared in his ears, the world blurring into streaks of light and shadow as he fell.

  Tonight would be a good night. There was so little competition.