Arcane: I have Plasmids F*** YEAAAAAAH!!!

It wasn't just an explosion.

It was the end of everything.

One moment, the world was whole—flickering firelight, the distant hum of Zaun's underbelly, the ragged breathing of the desperate and damned.

The next?

Oblivion.

The air became fire.

The walls screamed as they shattered.

The ceiling tore itself apart.

It didn't happen in slow motion.

It happened all at once.

Vi barely had time to turn her head—

Before the world collapsed.

Claggor was at the wall.

So damn close.

The shockwave hit like a battering ram, a wave of destruction ripping through the factory.

And Claggor?

He never saw it coming.

One moment, his feet were planted firmly on the ground—

The next, he was airborne.

Flung backward like a ragdoll, limbs flailing as he was torn from his own strength.

He saw the hole Lukas had made—

And then, he was gone.

Blasted clean through it.

For a single, horrible second, he was weightless in the night air—

And then, the world caught up to him.

His body hit the pavement outside.

Hard.

A sickening CRACK rang through the empty street.

His head bounced against the stone.

Then—stillness.

No movement.

No words.

No screams.

Just the faintest, shallowest rise and fall of his chest.

Unconscious. Alive.

But inside?

Inside, the fire kept burning.

Milo had been kneeling beside Vander.

Hands moving frantically.

Sweat dripping from his brow.

His heart slamming against his ribs.

"You can do this, Milo. I believe in you," Vander had said.

The lock was so close to breaking.

Just a little more—

Just one more second.

The explosion stole that second away.

The force threw him backward.

His body lifted from the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

His back slammed into the railing, his arms flailing—before the real pain came.

The jagged metal beam was waiting for him.

It punched through his stomach like a knife through wet paper.

His breath left him in a short, shocked gasp.

His hands flew to the wound, eyes darting downward—

And he saw it.

The blood.

Dripping. Pooling. Staining his fingers red.

He tried to move.

Tried to pull himself off the metal.

Tried to breathe.

His lips parted, but no words came.

Just a wheeze.

A soft, dying sound.

His eyes flickered, still confused, still trying to understand what had just happened.

Then—

The ceiling gave way.

The last thing he saw was flames.

And then—

Nothing at all.

---

Vi felt the impact first.

Something slammed into her back, forcing her forward.

Her ribs crushed against the ground as the weight of half a fucking building pinned her down.

Her lungs locked.

She tried to suck in air—

Nothing.

Smoke filled her throat.

Thick. Choking.

Burning her from the inside.

She tried to push herself up—

She couldn't.

Her arms were pinned beneath shattered beams and torn metal.

Her legs were trapped under the twisted remains of the catwalk.

She could barely move her fingers.

No. No, no, no.

She struggled.

Fought.

Screamed.

The panic came fast, slamming into her chest harder than any punch she'd ever thrown.

She was stuck.

Buried.

And the fire was getting closer.

She could feel the heat licking at her skin, the factory around her groaning as its final, tortured breaths shook the ground.

Her mind screamed at her to run, move, fight—

But she couldn't.

Her body refused.

"Milo?"

Her voice was a broken whisper.

No answer.

She blinked through the thick, swirling smoke, heart hammering.

"Claggor?!"

Nothing.

No, no, no, please.

Then—

A groan.

Low. Pained.

She turned her head, her neck straining, lungs burning with every breath.

Through the fire, through the wreckage, she saw him.

Vander.

Slumped against a pile of fallen steel.

One of his arms bent at a sickening angle.

Blood soaking his shirt, staining the ground beneath him.

But his chest moved.

He was breathing.

Alive.

Vi let out a ragged sob of relief.

Then she saw it.

Something moving behind the flames.

Her breath hitched.

The smoke swirled, shifting with the wind, and a dark silhouette stepped through the haze.

Massive. Wrong.

Its bones didn't align properly.

Its muscles twitched unnaturally, shimmering with the faint purple glow of the serum twisting through its veins.

It dragged a ruined leg, half its face burned raw from the explosion—

And yet, it kept walking.

Step by step.

Through the wreckage.

Through the fire.

Through everything that should have killed it.

Its one remaining eye locked onto her.

It didn't blink.

Didn't hesitate.

Didn't stop.

Vi's throat locked.

Her fingers dug into the dirt, trying to pull herself free—

But she was stuck.

She couldn't move.

She couldn't run.

She couldn't fight.

And no one was coming to save her.

No one.

The brute snarled, stepping closer.

And Vi, for the first time in her life—

Felt true fear.

But someone was coming.

Vander.

---

Pain was distant now.

Somewhere far away, beyond the crushing weight of his body, beyond the fire and ruin, beyond the past that had led him to this moment.

But his daughter was screaming.

And that?

That dragged him back to reality.

His fingers twitched, grasping at the broken stone beneath him. He felt every shattered rib, every torn muscle, but pain meant he was still here.

His arms shook as he pushed himself up, his breath coming in heavy, uneven gasps.

He lifted his head, vision swimming, and saw her—Vi.

Trapped beneath the rubble, helpless.

And in front of her—

The brute.

It moved slow, but with the certainty of something that could not be stopped.

Its head hung at an unnatural angle, bones twisted and wrong from injuries that should have killed it.

Shimmer didn't care about should.

The creature growled, deep and guttural, as it took another step toward her.

Vi's body wasn't moving.

She was trying, struggling, but her legs were pinned beneath jagged steel.

She wouldn't be able to fight.

She wouldn't be able to run.

Vander's hands curled into fists.

He pushed himself up further, muscles screaming in protest. His body did not want to move.

But that thing was going to kill his daughter.

And that?

That was never going to happen.

He gritted his teeth.

And stood.

His vision blurred as he took a step forward, the world tilting beneath his feet.

His legs shook. His chest felt like it was on fire, his breath ragged and short.

He was too slow.

He wasn't going to make it.

No.

NO.

Vander let out a roar, forcing himself into a sprint. His boots crashed against the steel floor, fire licking at his sides, filling his lungs with smoke.

The brute turned at the last second, just as Vander slammed into it.

They hit the ground together, rolling through the wreckage, a mess of blood and fury.

The monster was stronger.

But Vander was angrier.

He grabbed the brute by the throat, forcing it back, fist slamming into its face again and again.

The beast snarled, twisting, and suddenly Vander was the one underneath.

A massive fist crashed into his ribs.

Something broke.

Pain flared white-hot in his vision.

But he didn't stop.

Wouldn't stop.

Couldn't stop.

Not when Vi was still screaming.

Vander swung again, but the brute caught his arm this time, its grip crushing.

Then—

It threw him.

He hit the catwalk railing, metal groaning under his weight as he tumbled over the edge.

The world spun—

Then he slammed into the factory floor below.

Everything went still.

His body refused to move.

His breath came in short, wet gasps.

He tasted blood.

Above him, high in the wreckage, he could still hear Vi.

And the brute kept moving.

No.

Vander gritted his teeth.

NOT LIKE THIS.

His fingers twitched, searching for something, anything.

And then—they found it.

Something cold.

Something wet.

Something broken.

A shattered Shimmer vial.

The liquid spilled across the steel, sinking into his torn skin, into his open wounds.

Vander's vision blurred.

His chest tightened.

Something inside him twisted.

And then—

The pain hit.

---

It wasn't pain like before.

Not the dull ache of broken ribs, not the burning sting of torn muscle.

This pain was alive.

It coiled inside him, a sickness, a fire, a hunger.

It tore through his veins like acid, gnawed at his bones, sank into his very soul.

And then, suddenly—

Vander wasn't Vander anymore.

He felt his bones stretch, his muscles expand.

Flesh twisted, hardened, became something else.

His mind fractured, pieces of himself breaking apart, consumed by something raw and primal.

He felt the beast inside him take shape.

And he let it.

Because he needed to fight.

Because he needed to save Vi.

Because if he had to become a monster to protect her—

Then so be it.

---

The brute had almost reached her.

Its massive hands gripped the metal, ready to rip the wreckage off of Vi and finish the job.

And then—

Vander grabbed it by the throat.

The creature choked, gasping, clawing at his arms—but it was already too late.

Vander lifted it.

He had never been this strong.

He could feel its bones shift beneath his fingers, feel the raw power surging through his veins.

For the first time since the fight started—

The brute looked afraid.

And then—

Vander squeezed.

CRACK.

The creature went limp.

Vander threw the corpse aside like a broken toy.

His breath was ragged.

His hands trembled.

And as he looked up—

He saw him.

Silco.

Standing on the far end of the factory, Sevika helping him to his feet.

He looked small.

Weak.

Vander could end this.

Kill him now.

Rip him apart.

It would be so easy.

The rage boiled inside him, raw and primal.

His muscles tensed.

His mind screamed.

He took a step forward.

Then another.

Then—

"Vander!"

A small, frightened voice.

He turned.

Vi.

Her eyes wide, her breath shaky.

She was still trapped.

Still scared.

And suddenly, Silco didn't matter anymore.

Vander gritted his teeth.

With one last roar of defiance, he turned away from Silco.

Tearing through the wreckage, breaking apart the rubble, he grabbed Vi and pulled her into his arms.

And ran.

Straight through the hole Lukas had made.

A second later—

The factory collapsed.