Breakthrough

Cain’s first criminal trailing was both extensive and arduous, but he, Rina, and Finn successfully tailed the cloaked figure back to a dilapidated warehouse on the edge of the city without incident. With the exception of when they had to drag Rina away from a shady alchemist after she became enraptured and tried to buy out his whole stock, of course.

Regardless, the warehouse loomed in front of them, bordered by several smaller storage buildings that seemed just as forgotten as it. A few minutes of observation with no visible activity confirmed that this was likely the thieves’ hideout rather than a simple checkpoint or drop location. Finn, being the Last Bastion member with the most seniority, declared that he and Cain would be the ones to go inside and check things out, while Rina stayed outside in case they needed backup.

“Be careful in there, you two.” she said, clearly not too keen on leaving Cain to deal with Finn by himself.

“Ah, you worry about your little lab rat too much.” Finn bantered with a toothy smirk, “Besides, I’ll be there with him. What better protection is there than that?

Rina rolled her eyes, but her posture seemed to loosen a little upon hearing this. She left the warehouse’s immediate vicinity, taking shelter in an old ruin nearby where she could watch from a distance. When she was in position, she gave Cain and Finn a signal by sketching out a yellow smiley face in midair. Maybe it was due to the effects of the magic, but Cain’s nerves were ever-so-slightly calmed by the gesture.

The other two crept up towards the warehouse, trying to stay out of line of sight of the doors and windows as much as possible. It was slow going, but Cain didn’t hear any yelling or alarm bells yet, so he assumed Finn knew what he was doing and followed along. As they inched closer to their destination, Cain realized that he and Finn barely knew each other. After all, the last time they spoke one on one was when he had a hangover and wasn’t much for conversation.

“So, uh, sorry if this is insensitive,” Cain began with a whisper, “But what’s with the constant drinking, do you have, like, an addiction or something?”

As soon as the words left Cain’s mouth, it became painfully apparent to him that his conversational skills had degraded tremendously since he came to this world. In fact, he still wasn’t quite sure how to talk to most of the people around him here, save for Rina and maybe Gunnar. The last time he’d fumbled his words this badly was when he tried and failed to ask Katie Tillman to go to homecoming with him, with his friends cheering him on from the nearby bushes. Thankfully, Finn didn’t seem to take any offense from the question, though he did throw an odd look back at Cain.

“Nah, nothin’ like that. I just fell in love with a witch one time and she cursed me when we separated. Said I’d die if I didn’t drink at least a keg of booze every day. Y’know, the usual.” Finn whispered back. “I’ll tell you more later if you want, but right now let’s focus on the troubles right in front of us.”

Cain’s skepticism about Finn’s story was palpable, though he couldn’t help but feel reassured at him seeming to take their objective seriously, despite his flippant attitude.

Soon enough, the darkened doorway of the warehouse stood in front of them, strangely left wide open. Finn motioned for Cain to wait for a moment, then took a sniff of the air. Whatever he smelled must have been pleasing to him, because he walked straight into the building, beckoning Cain to follow.

No sooner than Cain and Finn had stepped through the dark warehouse’s doorway did the doors slam shut behind them. It suddenly became all too apparent that the person they were following had led them straight into a trap. Cain readied himself for a fight as his eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness, while Finn simply stood there fidgeting with his locket. Then suddenly, a bright light from a catwalk up above illuminated the warehouse’s interior, directed at Cain and Finn.

“Well, well, looky what we got here.” came a voice whose source was obscured by the light, “If it ain’t a couple of rats scurryin’ where they shouldn’t be.”

“I’ll handle this.” Finn said to Cain, turning back around to greet their welcoming party. “Greetings, folks! The name’s Finn, pleasure to meet ya. I represent a little organization called Last Bastion. Maybe you’ve heard of ‘em, maybe you haven’t, but the point is that they seem to think that you guys have something that belongs to them for some reason. So, me and my pal here are just gonna have a quick look around so we can go tell them they’ve got the wrong guys. Sound good?”

A few moments of stunned silence passed, the perpetrators shocked at Finn’s display of confidence. Finally, the voice from before seemed to shake off their disbelief.

“Not a chance, rat. Get ‘em!”

Finn turned back to Cain and shrugged. “Can’t blame a guy for trying, eh?”

Several figures of all shapes and sizes jumped down to the floor from the catwalks above, each wielding some form of makeshift weapon. Metal pipes, various tools, and wooden clubs seemed to be their weapons of choice. As they approached, the light failed to obscure them and Cain finally caught a glimpse of the attackers.

A group of about twelve people stood in front of him and Finn, each wearing a mask or a bandana to obscure their face. Though clearly trying to be intimidating and threatening, they approached at awkward angles, like they hadn’t done this before. Regardless of their experience, it seemed like Cain and Finn were going to have to fight their way out of this situation.

“Seems like we’ve found our culprits, Cain. You think you can handle this next part?” Finn asked slyly, flask in hand.

“Dunno,” Cain replied with a nervous chuckle, “but it doesn’t seem like they’re gonna give me much choice.”

Finn laughed and downed the contents of his flask in an instant. “Good answer.”

He suddenly lunged towards the approaching group with astonishing speed. Before Cain even had a chance to blink, Finn had already thrown one of them to the ground. Finn’s fighting style was…unique to say the least. He staggered towards his opponents with unbalanced steps, only to suddenly duck under their swings at the last moment. He dodged more than anything else, dancing around his opponents in some sort of drunken stupor to tire them out. Whenever he did attack, he always used misdirection to make sure his blows made it through the enemy’s defenses unimpeded, cackling like a madman the whole time. Finn fought like a twisting ocean current carrying a boat full of clowns: fluid and violent, yet whimsical and enrapturing.

Cain was so captivated by it all that he nearly took a pipe to the face. He backstepped to regain his composure only to barely dodge a swing from another guy that he didn’t even see. These people weren’t skillful, but their sheer numbers were proving to be a problem. It didn’t take long before Cain was pushed up against a wall, three thugs bearing down on him. In one swift motion, he was able to knock their legs out from under them and scramble away, but as the gaggle of hoodlums regrouped it became clear that simply outmaneuvering them wasn’t going to be possible. He had to figure out a way to take these guys down before it was too late.

As he ducked under pipes and jumped away from tackles, Cain’s mind drifted back to Rina’s advice during his training session with Gunnar. Focus on what happened in Avcad. The adrenaline, the desperation, and most importantly, the determination to fight back. Consistency is key.

Screw it. What better time to figure it out than in the heat of battle? He thought, taking a deep breath.

Cain focused, trying as hard as he could to relive the events of Avcad in his mind. A flicker of static blinked on the backside of his hand, then another. A strange feeling washed over him, something like anxiety and confidence mixed into one. A fiery tingle that filled his chest, while a storm of butterflies swirled in his stomach. And then, Finn slammed into him from somewhere outside his vision, knocking them both to the ground.

Finn laid on his back on top of Cain, giggling like a ticklish baby. “Heya Cain! Sorry man, I think I might’ve had a little too much to drink. You mind helpin’ me out a little?”

Cain rolled him off, jumping up to see not only his own adversaries, but also the ones Finn was fighting closing in on him. Around eight thugs left in total.

“Hey Finn?”

“Yeah?”

“Remind me to bleach your fur if we make it through this.”

Cain refocused his mind, Avcad staying at the edge of his subconscious the whole time. The same feeling from before returned: unease and certainty, fire and butterflies. One of the thugs swung, and Cain’s instincts took over. It was now or never. And then at last, something clicked.

Pale blue static crawled across Cain’s body, shimmering and shifting in the light. He didn’t panic, he maintained his focus. Fire and butterflies. This time, his body didn’t flicker, it blurred. He was blanketed in a pastel haze that glowed like the screen of a television, emitting a light hum as he swayed back and forth in his stance. A grin spread across Cain’s face as he lunged into action.

Cain was a blur, ducking below pipe swings and sidestepping people trying to grab him. Blows that he didn’t dodge seemed to pass right through him, almost like his body refused to be touched. For each hit that didn’t hit him, Cain dished out two more. He attacked like a whirlwind, bouncing between foes almost as fast as they could blink.

Despite its brutal efficiency though, this state was exhausting, as Cain soon began to realize. With only four foes left standing, he started to run out of steam, the hazy blur surrounding his body beginning to flicker. Three left. Cain was slowing down, his body felt heavy and his breathing was ragged. Just two more. Blows that would have phased straight through his body now grazed him. They weren’t good hits, but he could feel the blood welling up to form bruises where they’d struck him. Last one. Cain delivered one final jab to the last thug left standing, but not before being smacked in the ribs by a metal pipe.

As the final thug fell on his back, Cain doubled over, wheezing and coughing from the last hit he took. A light trickle of blood fell from his nose. He looked around as he recovered for Finn, worried he’d gotten caught up in the fight, only to see him walking to the warehouse doors without the slightest stumble in his step.

As Finn unlocked the door, Cain stood back up and looked himself over. Despite the giant bruise forming on his side and a few more smaller bruises, he was relatively unharmed, excluding his newfound exhaustion. He stared at his hand, static still lightly flickering across his skin. As tiring as it was, that felt like the consistency that Gunnar spoke of, or at least the first steps towards it. Cain couldn’t help but laugh. His doubts and fears still lingered in the back of his mind, but for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he thought maybe—just maybe—he had some semblance of control.

He walked over towards Finn just as he opened the doors. Rina rushed through, her eyes darting back and forth, trying to piece together what had happened. She looked at the pile of thieves, then at Finn, and finally her eyes fell on Cain: battered and bruised—but still standing.

“Cain! What happened? Are you okay?” she asked, rushing over to him. “Finn, you said you’d keep him safe!”

“Little lab rat had to learn to fly eventually, Rina. You can’t keep him caged forever.” Finn replied with a smug look and a shrug. “That’s how that saying goes, right?”

Cain wiped the blood from his nose with a small laugh. “I’m fine Rina, really. In fact, it’s been quite a while since I’ve felt this good.”

As the three began to regroup however, their reunion was cut short by the sound of shuffling coming from the direction of the thugs. They whipped around, prepared for another fight. Only, another fight wasn’t what was waiting for them. Instead, they were met with the sight of the group of thieves on their knees bowing down to them in atonement.