The shot whizzed past Zane's head, a streak of red light sparking against a twisted metal beam. His HUD flared, tracking the armored figures—six of them, their suits gleaming crimson, weapons humming with a menacing energy. The city loomed behind, its skyline a warped version of New York, towers jagged and glowing like embers against a bruised sky. Alternate reality, Shuri had said. Earth-like, but wrong. The air tasted of ash and ozone, stinging his lungs.
Zane ducked, his suit's thrusters kicking in with a low roar. "Shuri, I've got company!" he shouted, rolling behind a crumbling wall, its surface rough and cold against his back. The disc on his chest pulsed, its heat searing through the suit's layers. Stability at 28%. The number flashed red, a silent warning he couldn't ignore.
"Analyze their tech!" Shuri's voice crackled, sharp and focused through the comms. "Your suit can counter it. I'm patching in real-time data—hold on."
He peeked out, his HUD scanning with a green sweep. Targets: Enhanced exosuits. Energy-based weaponry. Weakness: Overload threshold at 80% power output. Zane grinned, a flicker of confidence cutting through the adrenaline. "Let's test that."
He leaped, firing a high-frequency blast from his repulsors. The lead figure staggered, its suit sparking as circuits fried with a sharp pop. The others opened fire, beams scorching the air with a hiss. Zane twisted midair, the shots grazing his shoulder, the heat searing through his armor. Armor integrity at 78%. He landed hard, rolling to absorb the impact, and fired again, taking down another figure with a precise shot.
"Nice move," Shuri said, her tone approving but tense. "But that disc's degrading fast. You've got to ration its power."
"Tell me later," Zane grunted, dodging a beam that melted a chunk of the wall. The figures closed in, their movements precise, coordinated like a well-oiled machine. He spotted a pattern—two flanking from the sides, four advancing in a tight formation. His HUD pinged: Energy signature detected. Source: Central tower. Intensity increasing.
The central tower pulsed red, its glow intensifying like a heartbeat. Zane's gut twisted. That's the source. He broke into a run, thrusters boosting his speed, the ground crunching under his boots. The figures pursued, their shots tearing up the earth in bursts of dust and debris. The disc flared, its light blinding for a moment. Stability at 25%.
"Zane, the tower's destabilizing the rift network!" Shuri warned, her voice rising. "Shut it down before it collapses everything!"
"How?" he shouted, skidding behind a wrecked vehicle, its rusted frame offering scant cover. The disc buzzed, and that voice cut through the chaos. "Kid, the core. Hit the core with everything you've got."
"Core?" Zane muttered, eyeing the tower. A faint blue light pulsed at its base, barely visible through the red haze. He nodded, thrusters roaring as he launched himself upward. The figures fired, a beam clipping his leg with a jolt of pain. Armor integrity at 70%. He gritted his teeth, pushing through.
He crashed into the base, the impact jarring his bones with a bone-rattling thud. The core loomed—a crystalline structure, humming with a low, ominous drone. His HUD flashed: Overload imminent. Disable core with sustained energy burst. Zane raised his hands, channeling maximum power into the repulsors. The blast hit, the core cracking with a sharp crack, its light dimming as fractures spread.
The tower shuddered, a shockwave rippling out with a deafening boom. The figures froze, their suits powering down with a series of whines and sparks. Zane stumbled back, the disc screaming in protest. Stability at 22%. The ground split, a chasm opening, and the rift reopened behind him, its pull irresistible.
"Zane, get out!" Shuri yelled, her voice urgent.
He didn't argue. He dove into the rift, the world dissolving into blinding white, the roar of the collapsing tower fading behind him.
Zane landed in a desert, sand stinging his face like tiny needles. The rift closed with a hiss, its echo swallowed by the wind. His suit sparked, the disc dimming to a faint, flickering blue. Stability at 20%. His HUD scanned the barren expanse: Atmospheric composition: 78% nitrogen, 21% oxygen. Location: Unknown desert region. Temperature: 45°C.
"Shuri, you there?" he rasped, pushing himself up with a wince. His leg throbbed, the suit's repair systems whirring as they patched the damage. The desert stretched endless, the sky a bruised purple streaked with crimson.
"Barely," she replied, her voice faint but steady. "You're alive. That's progress. Readings show minimal rift activity—rest if you can."
"Progress?" Zane laughed, the sound rough in his dry throat. He scanned the horizon, the heat warping the air. His HUD pinged: Life signs detected. Proximity: 500 meters. He turned, spotting a figure on a dune—cloaked, motionless against the blazing sun. The disc pulsed, its heat a constant burn. Stability at 19%.
The figure descended, sand cascading down the slope. A man emerged—scarred, grizzled, his eyes sharp like a hawk's. He carried a staff, its tip glowing faintly with a soft green light. "You're the one tearing rifts," the man said, his voice rough as gravel. "Stark's legacy, eh? I can feel it from here."
Zane tensed, repulsors humming as he faced him. "Who are you? And how do you know about Stark?"
"Call me Gideon," the man said, planting his staff in the sand. "I've been tracking those rifts for months. They're not natural. Someone's pulling strings, and that device of yours is the key."
"Pulling strings?" Zane frowned, the disc flaring again. Stability at 18%. The heat was unbearable, sweat dripping down his face. "What are you talking about?"
Gideon's eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing. "That device's a beacon. It's calling something—something big. You need to stop using it before it brings the whole multiverse down."
"Stop?" Zane snapped, stepping forward. "I'm stuck here because of it! I need it to get back!"
"Then you're a fool," Gideon said, his tone hardening. "But you've got his spark—his courage, his stubbornness. Maybe that's enough to survive." He raised his staff, the glow intensifying, and the ground trembled.
Zane's HUD flashed: Anomalous energy spike. Proximity: 200 meters. Shadows rose from the sand—creatures, their forms twisting like molten glass, eyes glinting with malice. "Great," he muttered, repulsors glowing blue. Gideon swung his staff, a wave of energy blasting two back with a thunderous crack. "Work with me, kid," he said, his voice steady. "Or we're both dead."
Zane nodded, firing at another creature. The blast hit, sending sand flying. The disc pulsed, its light fading. Stability at 15%. The battle raged, the desert turning into a storm of sand and light as more creatures emerged. Gideon fought beside him, his staff a blur, but Zane's mind raced. Who's behind this? What's the endgame?
Not done yet, he thought, his resolve hardening as the creatures closed in. Not until I find out.