Columbia's noble districts lie entombed in a suffocating dusk, the air choked with the reek of scorched feathers and blood-soaked stone.
Rhine Lab's strike team—Saria, Ptilopsis, and Silence—stood amid the Varnholt estate's wreckage, their boots grinding fallen crows into the cracked marble.
The flock's numbers had crumbled under their onslaught, artillery echoing from the east as the Department of Defence razed distant roosts.
Yet a menacing hush descended, the silence a taut bowstring poised to snap.
Saria gripped her crystalline shield, its surface pulsing faintly as she swept her gaze across the carnage.
"Flock's down—sixty-five percent neutralised," she said, her voice a low growl of caution.
"Too still—brace yourselves." Ptilopsis's owl-like eyes flared, her head tilting as data streamed through her visor.
"Crow activity terminated—probability of escalation: 92%," she intoned, her monotone edged with rare urgency".
Silence recalibrated her drone, its disruptor whining as she scanned the shadows.
"Originium surge detected—massive," she warned, her voice tight.
The earth shuddered violently, a deep tremor splitting the ground beneath their feet.
The corpses of the slain crows convulsed, their broken forms writhing as dark energy surged through them.
Feathers spiralled upward in a maelstrom of black and crimson, the air thickening with a suffocating dread.
From the chaos erupted a towering monstrosity—a three-headed beast forged of crow remains, its frame a grotesque fusion of sinew and claw.
It reared twenty metres high, its trio of snarling heads gnashing with serrated beaks, their crimson eyes blazing like infernos.
Its claws—colossal, razor-edged scythes—tore into the earth, rending stone asunder, while its ragged wings unleashed a tempest that hurled shattered columns skyward.
Saria squared her shoulders, her shield flaring into a radiant dome.
"Hold the line!" she roared, charging as the central head lunged, its beak a guillotine of black steel.
She met it head-on, the collision shattering her shield's edge in a spray of crystalline shards, the force driving her boots into the ground.
"Ptilopsis—strike the flanks! Silence—hit its core!" she bellowed, her arms trembling under the beast's might.
Ptilopsis darted left, her Arts igniting in a storm of glowing bolts.
She unleashed a barrage at the right head, each shot a piercing comet that gouged its flesh, black ichor erupting as it shrieked.
The wound knitted shut in seconds, feathers surging to seal it.
"Regeneration accelerated—1.2 seconds per cycle," she reported, her voice steady as she dodged a claw that cratered the marble where she'd stood.
"Targeting structural weak points—adjusting."
She pivoted, bolts hammering the neck's sinew, carving deeper with relentless precision.
Silence launched her drone, its disruptor pulsing as it streaked toward the beast's chest—a throbbing red core of Originium power pulsing beneath its feathered mass.
"Core locked—disrupting now," she shouted, her fingers a blur on her controls.
The pulse struck, and the creature staggered, its heads thrashing in discordant fury, claws raking the air.
But the left head retaliated, slashing with a force that swatted the drone aside, smashing it into a wall with a sickening crunch.
Silence dove behind rubble, her breath ragged as she scrambled to retrieve it.
The beast roared—a bone-rattling bellow that shook the estate's foundations—and reared back.
With a grotesque twist, it sank its central beak into the left head, severing it in a spray of black blood and feathers.
The severed head rolled, then launched skyward as the creature flung it with a flick of its claw.
Mid-air, the head pulsed, swelling into a colossal crow—ten metres wide, its wings a thunderous blur, its beak a jagged spear.
With a piercing screech, it banked toward Rhine Lab's headquarters, a dark missile streaking across the city.
Saria's eyes widened. "No, you don't!" she snarled, hurling a crystalline spear at the remaining central head.
The weapon sank deep, splitting its beak in a gush of ichor, and the head slumped, lifeless, as the beast howled.
"Silence—get that drone up! Ptilopsis—cover me!" She charged the right head, her shield reforming into a massive hammer, slamming it down with a thunderclap that cracked its skull, feathers exploding outward.
Ptilopsis spun, her bolts arcing toward the giant crow's trajectory, striking its wing in a burst of smoke.
"Flight path altered—velocity reduced by 18%," she calculated, her hands steady as she fired again, aiming for its core.
Silence hauled her battered drone from the debris, slamming a fresh power cell into it.
"Pulse ready—targeting the flyer," she grunted, launching it skyward.
The disruptor flared, hitting the crow's underbelly, and it faltered, veering off course but still hurtling toward Rhine Lab.
The ground beast surged forward, its remaining head and claws slashing in a frenzy.
Saria met it with a roar, her hammer smashing its claw into the earth, pinning it as she drove her shield into its neck.
Ptilopsis's bolts carved through its regenerating flesh, black blood pooling as she targeted the sinew's base.
Silence's drone circled back, its final pulse slamming into the core—a blinding flash that shattered the beast's cohesion.
With a guttural wail, it collapsed, its form disintegrating into a heap of twitching crow corpses, the red core exploding in a plume of ash.
Saria sank to one knee, her shield dimming as she caught her breath.
"Ground target down," she rasped, her gaze snapping skyward.
"But that flyer's still active—headed for HQ." Ptilopsis adjusted her stance, her analysis swift.
"Crow entity mass: 2.3 tonnes—impact probability on Rhine Lab: 67%." Silence clutched her drone, its hull sparking.
"Disruptor's spent—recalibrating for one last shot."
Kristen's voice burst through the comms, sharp with alarm.
"Saria—report! We've got a bogey inbound—ETA three minutes!"
"Crow construct—massive, split from a three-headed beast we just killed," Saria replied, rising with grim resolve.
"We're pursuing—get defences up!" The team sprinted from the ruins, their silhouettes stark against the blood-red sky, racing to intercept Hamelin's next gambit as the giant crow soared toward Rhine Lab, its shadow a harbinger of ruin over Columbia's fractured heart.
***
The giant crow—spawned from the severed head of his three-headed monstrosity—had torn through the dusk, its ten-metre wings a dark maelstrom.
Saria's warning had come too late; with a bone-shattering screech, it crashed through the eastern wing, rending glass and steel into a twisted ruin.
Shards cascaded to the streets below, a glittering deluge announcing devastation.
Within, Rhine Lab's defence force met the beast head-on.
Soldiers in hazmat suits, rifles blazing with Originium-charged rounds, stormed the breached corridor, their shouts drowned by the clatter of debris.
Arts units flanked them, barriers shimmering and projectiles crackling through the air.
The crow landed with a seismic thud, its claws shredding the lobby's marble, its wings hurling terminals and chairs in a whirlwind of destruction.
Its crimson eyes burnt, fixing on the defenders as it unleashed a roar that fractured the walls.
"Push it back!" roared Captain Lorne, a weathered DoD veteran, unloading a salvo of glowing bullets into the crow's flank.
The shots tore through feathers, black ichor splattering, but the wounds sealed in an instant, flesh knitting with eerie speed.
An arts caster at his side conjured a spear of flame, scorching the beast's wing, only to be crushed by a claw that smashed through her shield—and her ribcage—blood painting the floor.
The fight turned savage—soldiers fell, skulls caved by talons or bodies hurled into pillars, their suits shredded. An arts barrage singed the crow's beak, but it snapped back, bisecting its wielder in a spray of gore.
Kristen Wright descended into the chaos, leaping from a balcony with her silver hair trailing like a comet.
"Target the core—now!" she commanded, her voice slicing through the din.
She thrust both hands forward, an Originium pulse erupting—a radiant wave that slammed into the crow's chest, rocking it back.
The red core pulsed beneath its feathers, faltering under her assault.
The remaining soldiers rallied, their rifles hammering the weak point, while Arts units unleashed a torrent of ice and lightning, freezing and charring its wings.
The crow flailed, its beak carving a gash in the floor, but Kristen intensified her pulse, her eyes blazing.
"Finish it!" She shouted, and a final volley struck—the core shattered in a blinding explosion, ichor flooding the lobby as the beast collapsed, its form dissolving into a mound of feathers and ash.
The survivors stood amidst the carnage—broken bodies, twisted metal, a wing of Rhine Lab in ruins—their breaths ragged, their victory hollow.
The silence shattered as the pile quivered.
Feathers spiralled upward, bone and sinew snapping into place,
The crow's flesh began to take the shape of a creature.
Hamelin.
His crow-shaped mask glinting under the flickering lights.
His long black coat hung pristine, his silver-tipped cane tapping the floor with deliberate menace.
The soldiers raised their weapons, but Kristen waved them back, stepping forward, her gaze locked on the prophet.
"Hamelin", she said, her voice a blade of ice, unflinching amid the wreckage—fallen comrades, a breached stronghold, the cost of his incursion etched in blood.
He inclined his head, a faint smirk beneath the mask.
"Kristen Wright—Control of Rhine Lab," he replied, his tone smooth yet venomous.
"I am indeed Hamelin, prophet of the Abyss, bearer of justice."
"You've witnessed my handiwork—the nobles' torment, their endless suffering."
Kristen's fists clenched, her pulse flickering at her fingertips.
"You've killed my people—soldiers, innocents—to strike at a handful. Call it justice if you want; I see slaughter. What's your endgame?"
Hamelin's cane tapped once, twice, each sound a gavel's strike.
"The nobles—parasites who've bled this land dry, making lives miserable for their gain."
"They've feasted while Columbia crumbled, driving it to ruin with their greed. And you, Kristen, who arrogantly dream of the sky—your towers, your ambitions—while letting the earth beneath rot."
"I've merely exacted what's long overdue, which you couldn't do."
A sly grin appeared on Hamelin's face.
"A purge of those who've ended this country."
Her eyes narrowed, her voice dropping to a lethal whisper.
"You judge us all by their sins? I've fought to build something better—progress, not decay. You're no arbiter; you're a destroyer."
He laughed, a low, resonant sound that chilled the air.
"A destroyer, perhaps, to uproot a festering blight. They suffer as they've made others suffer—eternally, as their due."
"Columbia's rot runs deep; I've only begun to carve it out. You'll fight, Control, but you'll see."
He straightened, his cane tapping a final note.
"I'll always be a reminder—of their crimes, of your failures."
"Let me impart you a final gift."
He gestured to Kristen with his finger. A needle pierced her head faster than her eyes could follow, entering her brain undetected.
With a swirl of feathers, he vanished, his words lingering like a curse in the ruined hall.
Kristen stood amidst the devastation, her breath steadying, the bodies of her fallen soldiers a grim tally of Hamelin's toll.
The distant wail of crows pierced the night, a haunting echo of his promise.