Tattoo Sorcerer (1)
I called over the waiting driver. He dropped us off again at the outskirts of Brockton, and we headed toward the coordinates Jackson had sent without a car. The destination was a mountain impassable by vehicle.
I'd asked them to scout three locations. We were en route to one of them now, and according to Jackson, they'd spotted people being dragged in with iron shackles on their wrists and ankles.
'Experiment subjects. That means this lab's running ability-user experiments.'
The tattoo sorcerer was probably there too. They'd want to harness his power for all sorts of experiments. The process might've diverged a bit, but up to this point, it didn't stray far from the original story.
As we climbed the mountain, the dense forest gave way to a barren hillside, trees crushed flat like a bald patch. The ground bore deep gouges, as if something massive had lumbered through.
"Here we are!"
The open terrain gave us a clear view, making it easy to spot Jackson waving from afar.
"What's the situation like?"
"Just as I told you. The other spots were quiet, but people get hauled in here regularly. Once they're inside, no one comes out."
We peered down the trampled slope. At the bottom sat a massive building, plunked down awkwardly like it didn't belong—like it didn't quite fit the terrain.
"I was planning to hit from over there. You in?"
I probed their intentions. All I'd asked was for location intel, after all.
"Count me in. I want solid proof on these experiments myself. Make the fallout less messy."
Maybe it stemmed from getting run out over Orion. Jackson stepped up anyway, his crew naturally following suit.
"Then let's get started."
"Right. Michael! Take your position!"
"Got it, boss. Ugh, gotta climb that again? Outta breath already..."
Michael grumbled at the order but obeyed without pushback.
"Jerome, you brought it, right?"
I eyed Jerome's bundle. I'd asked him for gear to blow the lab sky-high.
"Y-Yes! Got it all! This'll take that building down easy!"
Jerome's voice brimmed with confidence. He'd packed exactly what I requested.
"Then we're good to go."
"Affirmative."
Clank!
Jackson raised his mechanical right arm, and Michael sprang into action.
Whoooosh—
Up on the treeless ridge, fierce winds whipped through, chill biting into our skin.
'Windy like this? Sniping won't be a cakewalk.'
But my worry was unfounded. Michael's sniper rifle shifted subtly. As he shouldered it, two mounts extended from the barrel, anchoring it to the ground.
"Modded it like you suggested last time."
"Perfect."
"Performs like a dream."
Thwip. Thwip.
Michael hadn't stopped at the mounts—a suppressor capped the barrel, muffling the shots completely.
"Gah!"
"Urk!"
Guards dropped one by one with each silenced round. Michael took down nearly ten before raising a hand in signal: clear.
"Let's move."
With the perimeter down, we charged. Target: the side entrance. We slid down the slope in a rush.
Screeech!
"......"
The lab's interior matched the one I'd first woken in—the very place where Damian had been imprisoned.
'Brings back memories.'
Back then, it'd been pure despair. Just Damian's body, nothing else.
But now...
'I've got Jackson's crew, April as a comrade, and plenty of power.'
Strength and allies. And soon, even more reliable ones.
Thud!
Rrrumble!
Alpano took point silently. Jackson boot-kicked a door open, and Alpano blurred in, blades flashing through the guards.
We cleared rooms like that until a grotesque sight halted us all.
"Ngh."
This looked like an active lab. Behind a transparent glass wall, mangled monster corpses lay in shreds. A foul stench hung in the air.
"......This."
April stared at the bodies, words failing her. Too brutal? But it seemed deeper than that. I'd never seen her this grave.
"They made these here?"
The usually chatty, ever-smiling April now spoke curtly, face icy.
"Yeah. They're injecting ability-user powers into monsters and civilians. Pushing experiments hard."
"......"
April's hands trembled. Through her weapons, I felt rage and grief. Whatever happened, it tied to these bastards.
"Because of them, my mom... I couldn't protect her properly because my power was too weak..."
I recalled her saying she needed to grow stronger. Her mother's death linked to this, fueling her thirst for power.
I patted her shoulder wordlessly. I got it, somewhat. I'd lost family in the accident too.
April wouldn't calm easily. Her eyes screamed she'd burn it all.
"Let's hurry. I wanna wipe out the ones who made this."
"Ahem, the lady's pissed. Alpano, move out."
"......"
Alpano glanced at April's face and bolted without a word.
We hit more rooms along the corridor, dropping researchers. Then alarms blared.
Beeeep! Beeeep!
They knew we were here.
"It's them!"
"Grab 'em! No matter what!"
Guards rushed in—about ten. More would come.
Luckily, no ability users among them.
"I'll handle it."
April stepped up, palms out toward them. Flames erupted from their bodies, spreading wildly.
She was livid—no flourishes, just raw fury.
"Gaaaah!"
"Aaaargh!"
April's power had evolved. The flames clung fiercer, burned hotter, spread faster. Anger amplified her strength.
"The tattoo sorcerer's not here, looks like. Moved him?"
"......"
Jackson was right. We'd cleared every room—no sign.
Gone? Or...
Then it hit me.
'Never checked the basement in-game, but it had to have one.'
This wasn't the game anymore—reality. They might've hidden him separately. Valuable specimen, after all.
"Hold here. I'll check the basement."
"Got it."
Jackson's crew could manage without ability users. I slipped into a side passage midway down the hall, finding stairs down.
"Aaaargh!"
Faint screams grew louder descending.
Clunk.
"Huh? Who're you?"
The basement felt familiar. Icy chill filling the space, chemical reek, dim lights flickering.
'......Just like where I was held.'
Did all users get this treatment? Why us?
Rage boiled up.
"Found you."
A bloodied man looked up. Golden tattoos covered his body. Another user—the tattoo sorcerer.
"Who the hell're you? Don't you know no one's allowed here?"
A torturer type spoke. They didn't know me yet. No alarm reached down here—sounds fully blocked. How long had he endured?
Whoosh!
Splatter!
"Guh, ack!"
No need to chat. A dagger pierced his throat; he crumpled in death throes.
"Urgh... ngh..."
The tattoo sorcerer lifted his head weakly, eyes meeting mine. Torture had left no inch untouched.
"I'll free you. Hang on."
Clang!
I shattered his shackles. He collapsed forward—couldn't even sit.
"Let's go."
"Th-thanks..."
I supported him out of the basement.
* * *
Upstairs raged battle. Corpses from Jackson's crew and April littered the halls, screams and gunfire echoing. They were holding nearby.
Thud.
I propped the tattoo sorcerer against a wall. He looked rough—barely mobile.
"Jerome!Jerome!"
Jerome was non-combat support; he wouldn't push deep.
Tat-tat-tat!
"Yes! You called?"
Right on cue, he came rushing.
"Need to heal him. Set up a kit."
"R-Right!"
Jerome unpacked hurriedly, deploying the kit as he saw the state.
Shhh...
Green mist enveloped him. His face eased over time. Not full recovery, but stable for now.
"......Saved by you."
"How long you been locked up?"
"About two weeks."
Two weeks captive. Level 5 now. Probably started at 1 like me, but he'd fought back.
"What's your name?"
"Kethar."
"Kethar. Got it. We'll talk details after we bust out. One thing: I'm a user too."
"......Knew it."
He'd suspected others existed. Accepted it calmly.
More to discuss, but escape first.
We three headed toward the noise. Past corridors, up stairs to the upper floor.
Whish.
Thud! Boom!
Bodies rained down—limbs burst, throats slashed, all charred black. Jackson's shotgun, Alpano's daggers, April's flames.
Up top, our crew fought fiercely as expected.
"Daring to create these abominations?"
Whoosh!
"Gaaaah!"
"Grraaah!"
April's face was still fierce. Unfamiliar fire in her.
"......"
Kethar clenched and unclenched his fist—testing his strength.
"......Good enough. I'll help."
Recovered enough, he stepped forward. Wounds mostly healed already.
Right—tattoo sorcerers had Blood Thirst, a passive boosting regen.
Vrrrrm.
Kethar activated a skill. Black light poured from one tattoo, the design writhing alive to cloak his body.
'......That's the one he chose.'
Tattoo sorcerer, Kethar.
His power unfolded.