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Augment Alliance - Superhero Peril
Part 5 - Razor’s Finale
By Arthur Hero
Marcus had been staring at the dead signal for eleven hours.
A narrow holographic display floated above the main operations desk inside the upper floors of Vand Technologies. Razor’s identifier remained fixed at the center of the screen.
RAZOR — AUGMENT SIGNAL LOST
No location.
No biometric feed.
No communication.
Only the timestamp from the moment his connection had disappeared near the Grand Island waterfront.
Marcus stood alone in the blue-and-gold command center, one hand resting against the desk while the other moved through layers of satellite scans, municipal surveillance, emergency frequencies, shipping manifests, and unauthorized power fluctuations.
Every search returned the same thing.
Nothing.
The Syndicate had not merely captured Razor.
They had erased him.
Marcus removed his glasses and pressed his fingers against his eyes. He rubbed his faded curly Afro hair.
He had already sent the Alliance across the city twice.
Slate and Vanguard had searched the abandoned shipping terminals.
Flare had followed the heat trail from Razor’s damaged transport.
Vern had broken into every camera system within six miles of the docks.
Tectonic had scanned underground transit corridors, storm drains, and maintenance tunnels.
They had found blood on a loading platform.
Fragments of Razor’s red latex costume near the water.
A broken restraint cable.
Then the trail ended.
Marcus returned his glasses to his face.
“Come on, Razor,” he whispered. “Give me something.”
The command center answered with silence.
Then a single red pixel appeared on the map.
Marcus froze.
The pixel vanished.
Three seconds later, it appeared again.
It was faint—far below the minimum output required for an Alliance tracking beacon—but it was there.
A pulse.
Marcus expanded the map.
The signal had not come from the waterfront. It had originated beneath the abandoned industrial district north of the docks, an area filled with condemned factories, sealed utility tunnels, and forgotten infrastructure from Grand Island City’s first expansion. The Syndicate lair must be UNDERGROUND.
The pulse vanished again.
Marcus opened the raw transmission.
It was not the primary beacon.
The Syndicate had disabled that.
This was something older.
Something buried beneath Razor’s standard systems.
Marcus remembered installing it years ago, during the earliest days of the Alliance: a passive emergency transmitter hidden inside the Augment housing, designed to release a microscopic burst whenever the core experienced a catastrophic fluctuation.
It had never been tested in the field.
Until now.
The pulse returned.
SIGNAL STRENGTH: 0.7%
AUGMENT OUTPUT: UNKNOWN
BIOMETRIC STATUS: CRITICAL
Marcus slammed his hand against the alarm control.
Blue lighting across the headquarters changed to red.
A deep warning tone rolled through every floor of Vand Technologies.
“Alliance emergency deployment,” Marcus announced over the internal system. “All available field members report to operations immediately.”
Doors opened throughout the headquarters.
Boots struck metal stairs.
Within minutes, Slate entered the command center wearing his glossy charcoal combat suit, followed by Vanguard in royal blue, Flare in mustard yellow, Vern in lime green, and Tectonic in his reinforced recovery armor.
They gathered around the operations table as Marcus projected the signal beneath the city.
“We have him,” Marcus said.
No one spoke.
Marcus enlarged the underground schematic.
The weak red pulse sat beneath a cluster of abandoned manufacturing buildings connected to an old storm-water system.
“It’s Razor?” Flare asked.
Marcus nodded.
“His emergency transmitter activated eight minutes ago. The signal is barely detectable. It only appears when his core destabilizes.”
Vanguard studied the map.
“How deep?”
“Approximately two hundred feet.”
Slate crossed his arms.
“Access points?”
“Most are sealed. The primary freight elevator was destroyed twenty years ago. There are three service tunnels, but two are flooded and one is covered by an active electrical grid.”
Vern stepped closer.
“Active according to whose records?”
“No one’s,” Marcus replied. “The grid doesn’t officially exist.”
“That means Syndicate.”
“Exactly.”
Marcus changed the projection.
A three-dimensional model of the underground facility rose from the table. Much of it remained incomplete, reconstructed from thermal imaging and seismic vibration.
At its center was a large circular chamber.
Around it were holding cells, equipment rooms, observation galleries, power conduits, and multiple escape tunnels.
Slate stared at the central chamber.
“An arena.”
Marcus nodded.
“They’re broadcasting something from inside. Vern intercepted encrypted traffic routed through dozens of offshore relays.”
Vern opened a second display.
Small windows appeared around the model, each containing fragments of distorted video, distorted voices, betting figures, and Syndicate insignias.
“They’re transmitting to private villain networks,” Vern said. “This isn’t interrogation.”
Flare’s expression hardened.
“It’s a show.”
Marcus brought up the last readable frame.
Razor stood in the center of the arena, bloodied and exhausted, surrounded by three enormous mutant brutes.
Malleus.
Vanta.
Bront.
Razor’s red suit was torn across the chest and shoulders. His Augment housing was dented, its protective casing split along one edge. The two horizontal energy orbs inside the damaged testicles glowed weakly.
Above him, a display read:
AUGMENT OUTPUT: 12%
The image disappeared into static.
Flare looked away.
Vanguard placed both hands on the operations table.
“When do we leave?”
“Now,” Marcus said.
The Rescue Plan
Marcus divided the operation into three stages.
Slate would command the field team, especially since he himself was recently recovering from his own busting incident. Flare would be the lead.
Vern would enter through a maintenance conduit and take control of the facility’s security network. His priorities were to disable communications, unlock Razor’s restraints, and prevent the Syndicate from collapsing the tunnels.
Vanguard and Flare would infiltrate through the western service passage.
Vanguard would clear the route and engage any heavy resistance.
Flare would reach Razor, stabilize him, and prepare him for extraction.
Slate would enter through the upper observation levels and locate Doc, the scientist directing the arena. If possible, Slate would capture him and secure the Syndicate’s research data.
Tectonic would remain at the surface with the Rhino, the Alliance’s reinforced rescue vehicle. The Rhino carried a mobile recovery pod capable of supporting a failing Augment core during transport.
Once Razor was removed from the arena, the team would move through the lower freight tunnel to the waterfront.
A rescue boat would be waiting at the old wharf.
“The underground route is too unstable for the Rhino,” Marcus explained. “You’ll have to carry Razor from the freight tunnel to the boat. Tectonic will meet you on the opposite side of the canal and transfer him into the Recovery Pod.”
Vanguard pointed toward a secondary passage on the map.
“What about this corridor?”
“Emergency containment route,” Marcus said. “It leads directly from the arena to the wharf.”
“Which means they’ll use it when we breach.”
“Yes.”
Slate looked around the table.
“This is a trap.”
“It may be,” Marcus replied. “But Razor is alive inside it.”
No one argued.
Marcus moved closer to Slate.
“Once Vern shuts down the broadcast, they’ll know we’re there. You will have less than six minutes before the facility initiates a full lockdown.”
“And if Vern can’t shut it down?”
“Then the whole Syndicate watches us walk in.”
Slate gave a slow nod.
“Either way, we bring him home.”
Marcus looked toward the others.
“Razor’s core may be below ten percent by the time you reach him. Do not allow Vanta to connect another siphon line. Do not strike the damaged codpiece to separate it. Do not attempt to restart the core manually.”
Flare swallowed.
“What happens if it drops to zero?”
Marcus did not answer immediately.
“The implant shuts down,” he finally said. “After that, his organs begin failing.”
The room fell silent.
Marcus turned off the projection.
“Suit up.”
The Arena
Far below Grand Island City, Razor hung between two black restraint towers.
Electrical cables were locked around his wrists and ankles.
Every muscle in his body trembled.
His head had fallen forward, but the chant continued around him.
“RA-ZOR.”
Thousands of voices echoed through the chamber.
Some came from the masked spectators seated in the upper galleries.
Most came from speakers carrying the sound of remote viewers watching from Syndicate compounds around the world.
“RA-ZOR. RA-ZOR. RA-ZOR.”
Razor slowly lifted his head.
The arena lights burned white against his eyes.
His vision doubled.
The circular trial floor beneath him was scarred from the previous rounds. Pieces of shattered armor, broken restraints, and fragments of Malleus’s hydraulic bracer lay scattered across the metal.
Across the arena, Malleus waited with one arm hanging uselessly.
Vanta stood beside him, black veins pulsing beneath his blue-grey skin.
Bront remained near the edge of the trial zone, two heavy restraint cables extending from his gauntlets.
Above them, Doc watched from the balcony.
His red coat was immaculate.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Doc announced, “our subject continues to demonstrate a remarkable refusal to accept the inevitable.”
Laughter rolled across the arena.
A screen above Razor illuminated.
AUGMENT OUTPUT: 11%
CORE ARMOR: 18%
NEURAL RESPONSE: DEGRADED
Doc leaned against the balcony rail.
“We have tested his strength.”
A spotlight moved across Malleus.
“His resistance.”
The light moved to Bront.
“And his ability to survive direct extraction.”
The spotlight reached Vanta.
Razor’s fingers curled inside the restraints.
Doc smiled.
“But there is one question our investors have continued to ask.”
New betting figures appeared on the screens.
SUBJECT REMAINS CONSCIOUS DURING FINAL SUPPRESSION
YES: 14%
NO: 86%
Doc raised one hand.
“Let us find out.”
Bront pulled his arms apart.
The cables tightened.
Razor’s body stretched between the restraint towers.
Pain tore through his shoulders.
Vanta approached from the front.
Two thick siphon lines extended from the ports on his forearms. It connected to his slashed up codpiece.
Razor tried to lift his foot, but the restraint around his ankle discharged.
Blue electricity exploded across his body.
His back arched.
A cry escaped him before he could stop it.
The arena erupted in cheers.
AUGMENT OUTPUT: 10%
Doc watched with professional interest.
“Again.”
Another surge struck Razor through the wrist restraints.
The red suit flashed beneath the current.
The damaged Augment housing gave a weak pulse. His cock still erect and dripping cum. Involuntarily.
Razor clenched his teeth.
His body dropped forward when the current ended, but the cables kept him from falling.
Vanta placed one siphon line against the testicles.
The line locked into place.
The second attached beneath Razor’s ribs.
The veins along Vanta’s arms brightened.
Razor felt energy leaving him.
Not simply strength.
Heat.
Breath.
Memory.
The red light inside the housing faded.
AUGMENT OUTPUT: 9%
The audience began counting down.
“Nine.”
Vanta increased the draw.
Razor’s knees buckled.
“Eight.”
AUGMENT OUTPUT: 8%
Doc smiled.
“Beautiful.”
Razor closed his eyes.
For an instant, he no longer heard the crowd.
He heard Marcus instead.
An old training session.
An empty warehouse.
Marcus standing beside him as Razor struggled to control the first prototype implant.
The core doesn’t make you who you are.
Razor’s breathing slowed.
It only amplifies what is already there.
Vanta pulled harder.
AUGMENT OUTPUT: 7%
The housing emitted a microscopic transmission pulse.
Far above the arena, hidden inside a maintenance conduit, Vern’s wrist display flashed red.
EMERGENCY BEACON CONFIRMED
Vern stopped crawling.
He pressed two fingers against his communicator.
“I have him,” he whispered.
Marcus’s voice answered immediately.
“Status?”
Vern checked the energy readings.
His expression changed.
“Seven percent.”
The Infiltration
Vern reached the facility’s control junction and removed a circular device from his belt.
He attached it to the central data conduit.
Green light spread through the machine.
The Syndicate firewall reacted instantly.
Multiple countermeasures attacked his connection.
Vern smiled.
“Come on.”
He drove both hands into the interface.
Across the facility, cameras flickered.
Security doors unlocked and relocked.
The arena broadcast distorted.
Doc looked up as the screens above Razor filled with green static.
“What is this?”
In the western tunnel, Vanguard heard the first security alarm.
He lowered his shoulder and struck the reinforced door in front of him.
The frame bent inward.
He hit it again.
The door tore from its hinges.
Flare followed him through the opening.
Three armored brute mutant guards raised pulse rifles.
Vanguard crossed the corridor before the first one could fire.
He struck the nearest guard into the wall, caught the second rifle by its barrel, and ripped it free.
Flare released a controlled burst of heat.
The remaining weapons glowed orange in the guards’ hands.
They dropped them.
“Go,” Vanguard ordered.
Flare ran.
Above the arena, Slate descended from a ventilation shaft into the observation gallery.
He moved silently past a row of technicians.
One turned.
Slate caught him before he could shout and lowered him behind a console.
Through the glass, Slate saw Razor hanging between the towers.
For the first time, he saw the full damage.
Razor’s head was down.
His suit was burned around the restraint points.
The red latex housing his balls, ripped a part.
Slate’s jaw tightened.
“Marcus,” he whispered.
“I see him,” Marcus replied through the helmet feed.
“Doc is on the balcony.”
“Capture him if you can. Razor remains the priority.”
Slate moved toward the balcony entrance.
Below him, Doc slammed his hand against the control panel.
“Restore the broadcast!”
A technician shook his head.
“We’ve lost the external relays.”
“Then restore the local systems!”
The arena lights cut out.
Darkness consumed the chamber.
The crowd screamed.
Emergency lamps activated along the floor.
Vern’s voice entered the Alliance channel.
“Broadcast is down. Internal locks are cycling. You have four minutes before their backup network comes online.”
Marcus responded.
“Vanguard, Flare—move.”
The Final Suppression
Doc looked toward the upper control levels.
He understood immediately.
“The Alliance.”
Malleus roared.
Bront turned toward the arena doors.
Vanta disconnected one siphon line and looked around the darkened chamber.
Doc grabbed the microphone.
“Complete the trial.”
Bront tightened the restraint cables.
Vanta reattached both siphon lines.
Malleus approached Razor with his remaining bracer raised.
“Stop!” Doc shouted. “Not the housing. We need the core intact.”
Malleus changed his target.
He drove the bracer into Razor’s abdomen.
The impact forced the air from Razor’s lungs.
His body folded against the restraints.
AUGMENT OUTPUT: 6%
Doc activated the electrical system manually.
The towers discharged.
Electricity tore through Razor again.
Every muscle locked.
His mouth opened in a silent scream. His mouth foaming.
The damaged housing flashed red.
AUGMENT OUTPUT: 5%
The arena doors exploded inward.
Vanguard stepped through the smoke.
His blue suit was marked with dust and scorch lines, but he did not slow.
Flare entered behind him.
For one second, the entire arena went silent.
Vanguard looked at Razor.
Then at the three brutes.
“Get away from him.”
Bront fired both restraint cables.
Vanguard caught one around his forearm and allowed the second to wrap around his torso.
Bront pulled.
Vanguard planted his boots.
The metal floor cracked beneath him.
Then Vanguard pulled back.
Bront lurched forward.
“I’m going to eat your nuts for dinner.” Brent said.
Vanguard swung the cable and sent the massive brute crashing into the arena wall.
Malleus charged.
Vanguard met him in the center of the floor.
Their collision shook the chamber.
Flare ran toward Razor.
Vanta stepped into his path.
Black energy pulsed through the ports in his arms.
Flare raised both hands.
A wave of heat struck Vanta’s siphon apparatus.
The external cables softened.
Vanta ripped them free before they could melt against his skin.
He swung one heavy arm.
Flare ducked beneath it and drove his shoulder into Vanta’s chest.
Vanta barely moved.
He grabbed Flare by the throat and lifted him from the floor. And then Flare’s codpiece.
“Arghhhhhh,” Flair wailed.
Vanta’s chest harness turned red.
He threw Flare aside before the metal burned through.
Flare hit the floor, rolled, and came back to his feet.
“Vern!” he shouted.
“I’m trying!”
At the control junction, Vern forced his way through the restraint protocols.
Multiple windows appeared across his display.
TOWER ONE — LOCKED
TOWER TWO — LOCKED
NEURAL SHOCK SYSTEM — ACTIVE
“Marcus, they built the restraints on an isolated circuit.”
“Can you break it?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
Vern examined the rapidly changing code.
“Longer than Razor has.”
Marcus looked toward the biometric display in headquarters.
AUGMENT OUTPUT: 4%
“Then overload it.”
Vern hesitated.
“That could discharge the entire system through him.”
“Reverse the polarity first.”
“That will send the surge into the towers.”
“Do it.”
Vern changed the routing.
Warning symbols filled his screen.
He struck the final command.
The restraint towers erupted.
Electricity raced away from Razor and into the floor.
The locking mechanisms released.
Razor fell.
Flare dove beneath him and caught him before he struck the metal.
“Razor!”
Razor’s eyes opened slightly.
He did not appear to recognize him.
Flare lowered him carefully.
Razor tried to speak.
No sound came out.
Flare placed one hand against the damaged housing and checked the emergency indicator.
AUGMENT OUTPUT: 4%
CORE FAILURE IMMINENT
“I have him,” Flare said. “Marcus, I have him.”
Marcus closed his eyes for half a second.
“Get him out.”
Flare put the muscle hero of his back and zipped through the ceiling with Razor on his shoulder.
Slate and Doc
Slate reached the observation balcony just as Doc attempted to escape through a private corridor.
“Going somewhere?” Slate asked.
Doc stopped.
He slowly turned.
Slate stood between him and the arena.
“You’re late,” Doc said.
Slate approached.
“You should be grateful. I was planning to leave you here.”
Doc smiled.
“Do you believe rescuing him changes anything? I know your weak spots. I know how to break your pretty boy heroes super powered nuts. I’ll eventually break each of your balls in my hand and get rid of you. Even better sell you guys off to be pumped and drained forever to power my monsters. The hunt is just beginning.” Doc said.
“Your hands will never crush my nuts again.”
Slate lunged.
Doc threw a small device onto the floor.
A pulse of white light filled the corridor.
It shot explosives mechanical darts that went through to Slate’s codpiece.
“Unghhh,” Slate moaned. His codpiece was damaged but he was mostly stunned..
He heard the door open.
By the time his vision returned, Doc had disappeared into the escape passage.
Slate pursued him through two chambers and reached a vertical transport shaft.
The lift was already descending.
Slate fired a line from his gauntlet.
The hook struck the lift roof.
For a moment, the line held.
Then an explosive charge detonated inside the shaft.
Slate was thrown backward.
The lift vanished into the smoke below.
Marcus’s voice entered his helmet.
“Slate, report.”
“Doc escaped through the eastern shaft.”
“Leave him. The backup network is activating.”
Slate looked down into the shaft.
Then he turned toward the arena.
“Understood.”
The Rescue
Vanguard drove Malleus backward with a series of heavy strikes.
Malleus blocked the first.
The second cracked the remaining hydraulic bracer.
The third sent him across the trial zone.
Bront pulled himself from the ruined wall.
Vanta reconnected one damaged siphon line.
More Syndicate guards poured into the upper galleries.
Slate dropped from the balcony into the arena.
“We’re leaving!”
Flare had one arm beneath Razor’s shoulders and the other beneath his knees. Razor’s muscle butt was exposed to the air.
Razor was too weak to support himself.
Vanguard moved beside them.
“Give him to me.”
Flare transferred Razor carefully.
Vanguard lifted him against his chest.
Razor’s head rested against the blue armor.
His breathing was shallow.
“Vern,” Slate said, “open the containment corridor.”
The doors on the far side of the arena began to separate.
Bront fired a restraint cable toward Vanguard.
Slate stepped between them.
The cable wrapped around Slate’s forearm.
Bront pulled.
Slate allowed himself to be dragged forward, then released a charcoal energy burst through the cable.
The charge raced into Bront’s gauntlet.
The restraint system exploded.
Flare filled the arena with blinding yellow-white light.
The Syndicate guards covered their eyes.
“Move!”
The team entered the containment corridor.
Vern sealed the doors behind them.
Malleus struck the barrier from the opposite side.
The metal buckled.
“Those doors won’t hold,” Vern warned.
“They don’t need to,” Slate replied.
They moved quickly through the underground passage.
Vanguard carried Razor.
Flare stayed beside him, watching the failing core indicator.
AUGMENT OUTPUT: 3%
“Marcus.”
“I see it.”
“He’s dropping.”
“Tectonic is moving to the wharf. The Recovery Pod is active.”
The tunnel shook.
Explosions echoed behind them as Malleus and Bront broke through the arena doors.
Slate looked back.
“Vern, give them something to think about.”
Vern reached another control node and accessed the facility’s environmental systems.
He opened every suppression valve in the eastern sector.
Steam blasted into the corridors behind them.
Then he unlocked the mutant containment cells.
Warning lights flashed across the facility.
Roars echoed through the tunnels.
Flare looked at him.
“What did you release?”
Vern ran after the others.
“Problems.”
They reached the freight lift.
The platform was disabled.
Slate looked up the shaft.
Nearly eighty feet separated them from the surface access tunnel.
“Grappling lines,” he ordered.
Slate and Flare fired hooks into the overhead support structure.
Vanguard attached Razor to the emergency harness across his chest.
The three heroes began ascending.
Below them, the corridor doors burst open.
Malleus emerged through the steam.
Vanta and Bront followed.
Vern remained on the lower platform.
“Go!” Slate shouted.
Vern attached his own line.
Before he could ascend, Vanta launched a siphon cable.
It wrapped around Vern’s codpiece.
Vern fell against the wall.
The cable tightened pulling in his nuts in its grip.
Vanta began dragging him down.
Flare changed direction in midair, swinging from his line.
He struck Vanta across the face with both boots.
The siphon cable released.
Vern activated his reel and rose rapidly through the shaft.
Malleus grabbed the bottom of the freight platform and began climbing.
Slate removed a small charge from his belt.
He threw it against the platform supports.
“Everyone up!”
The team cleared the shaft.
Slate triggered the charge.
The freight platform collapsed.
Malleus, Vanta, and Bront disappeared beneath tons of twisted metal.
The explosion did not kill them.
But it slowed them.
The Wharf
The upper tunnel opened onto an abandoned loading yard beside the canal.
Cold night air struck the team.
Rain had begun falling across Grand Island City.
The rescue boat waited at the end of the wharf, its engine already running.
Slate scanned the yard.
“No Tectonic.”
Marcus answered.
“The Rhino encountered resistance on the north access road. Tectonic is rerouting.”
“How long?”
“Three minutes.”
Flare checked Razor’s core.
AUGMENT OUTPUT: 2%
“We don’t have three minutes.”
Vanguard began moving toward the boat.
“Then we meet him halfway.”
Searchlights ignited behind them.
Syndicate guards emerged from the factory entrances.
Mutant soldiers descended from the rooftops.
A heavy transport vehicle crashed through the loading-yard gate.
Slate looked toward Vern.
“Can you drive the boat?”
Vern glanced at the controls.
“Probably.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the answer we have.”
They ran down the wharf.
Pulse fire struck the wooden planks around them.
Flare turned and projected a wall of heat across the dock.
Incoming rounds warped and fell into the water.
Slate returned fire with controlled energy bursts, forcing the guards behind cargo containers.
Vanguard continued forward with Razor in his arms.
Razor stirred.
His eyes opened.
“Van…”
“I’ve got you,” Vanguard said.
Razor’s gaze drifted toward the city lights.
“Didn’t… think…”
“Save your strength.”
Razor tried to lift his head.
“They’re coming.”
Vanguard looked behind them.
At the far end of the wharf, Bront emerged from the tunnel entrance.
The explosion had torn sections from his skin.
One gauntlet hung broken.
Malleus followed him.
Vanta appeared last, dragging a damaged siphon line behind him.
Slate stepped between the brutes and the retreating team.
“Get Razor on the boat.”
Flare remained beside him.
“You’re not holding all three.”
Slate looked at him.
“I don’t need to.”
He glanced toward the crane above the loading yard.
Vern understood.
He accessed the crane controls from his wrist display.
The machine groaned to life.
A massive shipping container swung over the wharf.
Malleus charged.
Slate waited.
“Now.”
Vern released the container.
It crashed between the heroes and the brutes, destroying the center of the wharf.
Wood, steel, and concrete plunged into the canal.
Bront stopped at the broken edge.
Malleus roared from the other side.
Slate and Flare reached the boat.
Vanguard placed Razor on the rear medical platform.
Vern took the controls.
The boat pulled away from the wharf as Syndicate fire struck the water around it.
The Grand Island skyline rose in the distance, its art-deco towers glowing through the rain.
Marcus’s voice came through the speakers.
“Tectonic is approaching from the southern bridge.”
Ahead of them, the Rhino rescue vehicle appeared on the canal-side roadway.
Tectonic drove through a barricade and turned onto the lower service ramp.
The armored vehicle matched the boat’s speed.
Its side compartment opened.
Inside, the Recovery Pod glowed blue.
“Bring us alongside,” Vanguard said.
Vern steered toward the ramp.
Tectonic extended a mechanical transfer platform from the Rhino.
The boat struck the edge of the platform.
Slate secured the line.
Vanguard lifted Razor again.
They crossed onto the moving vehicle while Flare shielded Razor from the rain.
Tectonic climbed from the driver’s station.
His expression changed when he saw Razor.
“Get him inside.”
They placed Razor in the Recovery Pod.
Tectonic connected the stabilizing leads around the damaged Augment housing.
Marcus guided him through the procedure from headquarters.
“Do not attempt a full synchronization. Establish passive circulation only.”
Tectonic activated the pod.
Blue energy moved through the medical frame.
Razor’s body tensed.
The core indicator dropped.
AUGMENT OUTPUT: 1%
Flare gripped the edge of the pod.
“Marcus.”
“Hold.”
The damaged red housing flickered.
For one terrible moment, the light disappeared.
Then the erect codpiece jiggled. His cock began to throb again.
AUGMENT OUTPUT: 2%
Razor released a weak breath.
The Recovery Pod display changed.
CORE RESPONSE DETECTED
PATIENT CRITICAL
CONDITION STABILIZING
No one spoke.
Tectonic closed the pod’s protective cover.
Vanguard placed one hand against the transparent shield.
Behind them, the rescue boat separated and turned back toward the city.
Slate looked toward the industrial district in the distance.
Smoke rose from beneath the abandoned factories.
Doc had escaped.
The Syndicate still possessed Razor’s combat data.
The three brutes were still alive.
The arena had survived.
But Razor was no longer inside it.
Marcus’s voice came over the channel.
“Bring him home.”
The Rhino accelerated toward Vand Technologies.
Inside the Recovery Pod, Razor’s eyes opened for the briefest moment.
He saw the figures surrounding him.
Slate.
Vanguard.
Flare.
Vern.
Tectonic.
His team.
His family.
Then his eyes closed again.
The damaged core continued to pulse.
Weakly.
But steadily.
Razor was alive.
Villains had the blueprint of how the Augment heroes were powered. All villains shared the information through their dark web to different Augment cities that had their own hero teams. All over the US.
The villains shared the data from Razor that Doc compiled to their sinister teams all over the world.
London, Rio, Mexico City, Lagos, Istanbul, Rome, Paris, Berlin, Moscow, Buenos Aires, Toronto, Sydney, Melbourne, Shanghai, Tokyo, Cairo, Cape Town, Medellin, Barcelona, and so many other networks across the globe.
Villain networks were ready to begin the massive war to bring down the Augment Alliance International Order. They knew the weak spots, the augment orbs deep within the heroes testicles.
The End.
