## Chapter 29: The Mask Shatters
The cave fisher's barbed hook whistled through the air, aiming for Torin's exposed neck. Kelvin saw it unfold in horrifying slow motion—the glint of chitin, the flex of the spindly appendage, Torin's wide eyes as he realized he couldn't dodge in time.
Then—*CRACK!*
A baton intercepted the hook at the last second, sending it skittering off course. Vera, moving with desperate speed, had lunged forward from the rear guard position to save Torin. But her heroism left the back line exposed.
Two more fishers scuttled from the ceiling fissures, their barbed limbs lashing toward Kelvin.
"Porter! Down!" Silas shouted, trying to pivot his rifle toward the new threats.
But Kelvin was already moving.
The heavy supply pack hit the damp cavern floor with a thud. His hands came up—not in surrender, but in a gesture the Crimson Claw had never seen from an F-rank porter.
Fire erupted in his palm.
Not a spark. Not a flicker. A roiling sphere of white-cored flame, its edges licked with crimson, casting grotesque shadows across the cavern walls. The heat hit the hunters' faces like a physical blow.
**<< Pyroclastic Manipulation Activated! >>**
The fisher's multifaceted eyes reflected the fireball an instant before it struck. The explosion of heat and light was deafening in the confined space. Chitin blackened and cracked. The creature didn't even have time to scream as its internal fluids flash-boiled.
**<< Target Eliminated: Cave Fisher (D-Rank Variant) - +180 EXP >>**
Silence.
For one heartbeat, the entire Crimson Claw froze mid-combat, staring at the smoldering remains, then at Kelvin.
"Mage?" Mika whispered, her mana-rifle slipping slightly in her grip.
But Kelvin wasn't done.
The **Blood War Chains** exploded from his wrists with a resonant *thrum*, no longer hidden. Obsidian links gleamed in the firelight, crimson veins pulsing with hungry energy. The barbs dripped with something darker than shadow.
Kael's voice cut through the shock: "Vance, what the hell—"
The remaining fishers attacked.
Kelvin moved.
**<< Combat Acumen Engaged >>**
His left chain lashed out in a vicious horizontal arc, shearing through three spindly legs of an advancing fisher. The right chain followed, spearing through its bulbous abdomen with a sickening *crunch*. **<< Target Eliminated >>**
He didn't stop.
Pivoting on his heel, he activated **Grasp of the Forsaken**, the chain yanking a fisher mid-leap off its trajectory and slamming it into Bren's waiting baton strike. **<< Target Stunned >>**
"Stop gawking and kill them!" Kelvin barked, his voice deeper, rougher, layered with the weight of command and the edge of **Bloodlust**.
The shock broke. The Crimson Claw reacted with trained precision, falling into formation around this sudden, terrifying ally they didn't understand.
Kael's orders came rapid-fire: "Bren, Mika—flanking fire! Jax, concussion on my mark! Lyssa, watch our six! Silas, Vera—suppress the ceiling!"
Kelvin became the spearhead.
A fisher lunged—his fireball met it mid-air, cooking it in its shell. **<< Target Eliminated >>**
Two more tried to flank—chains snapped out, barbs finding eye clusters and neural clusters with surgical precision. **<< Double Elimination >>**
The cavern filled with the stench of burning chitin and ichor. The team's disciplined fire picked off stragglers, capitalizing on the chaos Kelvin created.
In thirty seconds, it was over.
The silence that followed was heavier than the cavern's natural gloom.
Ten weapons—nine rifles and one set of dripping chains—remained trained on the darkness. Ten sets of breathing, ragged from adrenaline.
Then, slowly, the Crimson Claw turned their weapons—not toward the tunnel ahead, but toward Kelvin.
Kael's rifle was steady. His voice was not. "You're not F-rank."
Kelvin let the chains retract slowly into his wrists. The fire in his palm died. He met their stares—fear, awe, betrayal—head on.
"No," he admitted. The word hung in the air, final as a tomb seal.
Lyssa's finger hovered near her trigger. "Then what the hell are you?"
The truth perched on his tongue. Forsaken Architect. System-Bearer. Monster of the Proving Grounds. Brother to a girl who deserved answers first.
"Someone who's still on your side," he said quietly. "We have," he checked the mission chrono on his wrist, "four hours and twelve minutes before this gate risks outbreak. Do you really want to do this now?"
The standoff stretched. The whispers of the caverns seemed to hold their breath.
Finally, Kael lowered his rifle a fraction. "You fight with us to the node. Then we talk. No more secrets."
Kelvin nodded. The mask was broken, but the mission remained. The Forsaken Architect walked forward, chains humming faintly beneath his skin, the Crimson Claw falling in behind him—not as his wardens, not yet as his allies, but as hunters who now understood the true predator in their midst.
Somewhere above them, in the world of sunlight and normalcy, Elara's phone buzzed with a news alert about unusual energy spikes at the East Sector Gate Hub. The clock ticked for them all.