As if on cue, another group appeared from the opposite direction, moving into formation like pieces of a well-planned trap. Lucian Duvall led the main force of the Little Fingers cartel, every member already in Glint form, their auras pulsing with restrained power. Their approach was slow and deliberate, expressions unreadable, but their presence made one thing clear. This wasn't just a Red Hands fight anymore. The air grew heavier, tension pressing through the fog as their arrival hinted at something much deeper.
Lucian stepped forward, his movements precise and confident. He looked directly at Thomas before glancing toward Darius with a faint smirk. "Lucian Duvall, second-in-command of the Little Fingers. We're with the Red Hands. Guess this isn't your lucky day."
Thomas's gaze shifted from Lucian to the guards behind him, then to the Glint being operated on inside the medical tent. The colors, the insignia, the tension in their stance. It all fit together.
They were part of the same group. Little Fingers. The realization built quickly in Thomas's mind, each thought stacking until it hit him all at once. He knew that name. But from where?
Then Bryan spoke, almost as if finishing Thomas's thought. "Pink Dust."
The word landed hard. The drug. The trade. Back at that outpost, they had seen what it did to people. At first, it gave them strength, a rush of power that made them feel unstoppable. But it never lasted. Once the effect faded, their bodies began craving more, desperate for the next dose. The strength it granted became weaker each time until there was nothing left but the illusion of power, a hallucination that drove them mad. And now, standing in front of him, was one of the men responsible for it.
Thomas's hands tightened, his posture shifting as anger rose. Lucian kept talking, unaware of the rising tension. "Oh, you know our product," he said casually, as if he were talking about fine wine instead of something that destroyed lives.
Rage burned through Thomas. His knuckles cracked as his grip tightened. The Little Fingers weren't just another faction caught in the crossfire. They were the source.
Lucian finally turned away, stepping toward Darius. His tone was clipped and steady. "We're here. Ready to move when you are."
Darius nodded, his expression grim. "Good. No mistakes. We wipe them out."
Lucian eyes flicked toward Thomas's crew, then to the surgical tent where Veyron still lay unconscious. His hand tightened around his weapon.
Thomas spun back toward the tent, anger rising. Guards blocked his path, their bodies rigid, holding him and the others back. He raised his voice so Dr. Cal could hear.
"You need to listen to me, Doc. These aren't some random group. They are drug lords. You know what Pink Dust does. It wrecks users, it hooks them. Their bodies burn out because they chase that first rush. These people sell that poison. And you are saving one of them."
Through the small opening in the tent, Dr. Cal loomed over his patient. His tentacles hovered, steady. For a heartbeat his breath caught and his appendages twitched. Thomas thought he had made a mark. Maybe he understands.
Dr. Cal let the air out slowly, his voice even. "A patient is a patient, Thomas. I do not get to pick who lives or dies. I save the person in front of me. That is a doctor's duty."
Thomas's jaw tightened. "And what then? He gets up and goes back to poisoning people. He makes more addicts. You really think saving him is the right choice?"
Dr. Cal did not look up. He kept working, his movements precise. "I do not save people because they deserve it. I save people because no one else will. Now, if you are done trying to convince me, I need to finish this."
Thomas clenched his fists and exhaled through his nose. There was no time left to argue. He didn't agree with Dr. Cal, but that didn't mean he would leave him and his people to be slaughtered by the Red Hands and the cartel. They had their differences, but dragging the Medics into a bloodbath wasn't something Thomas could allow. Even if Dr. Cal refused to run, Thomas would make sure they still had a way out when the time came.
He stepped forward, accepting what had to be done. Ahead stood Darius and his Red Hands enforcers, the ones carrying those cursed implants. To the side, Lucian Duvall and the Little Fingers gathered, ready to strike. Thomas kept an eye on the guards behind him, but they didn't move. Duvall clearly had no command over them. They stayed fixed at their post, guarding the tent where their leader was still being operated on.
Iris, Nevin, and Bryan stood beside Thomas, their Glint forms already active, energy humming in the fog. The standoff was set.
Darius grinned and raised his arm. "Kill them all."
The enhanced soldiers surged forward and the battlefield erupted.
They hit with speed that did not feel human. A wolf-headed fighter charged, claws flashing. A hulking reptile stomped in, scales cracking as it forced its body beyond normal limits. A multi-limbed centaur-like soldier blinked across short distances, closing gaps in an instant.
More Red Hands followed, ordinary Glint users in numbers. Winged attackers dove. Scaled brutes and other mutated fighters poured onto the field. They were not as strong as the implanted soldiers, but their numbers filled the space and pushed Thomas's crew back.
Thomas raised his fog-formed club and swung. The weapon crashed into the first attacker and sent it flying. Reinforced plating split as it slammed into the dirt. "Next!" Thomas shouted, already turning.
A hyena-faced Glint leapt onto his back, fangs snapping near his neck. "Get your rabid face off me," Thomas growled. He twisted, drove his elbow into its ribs, and grabbed a leg. He swung it like a bat and sent the creature flying into another charging enemy. Both hit the ground in a tangle.
He only had a second before the next one struck. This Glint moved low and fast, its curved scorpion tail slicing for his side. Thomas dodged, the stinger grazing him. "Little busy here," he muttered.
The attacker hissed, "You're slow, Giant."
Thomas tightened his grip on the club. "Yeah? Let's see how fast you run after I break your knees."
A bright flash cut through the fog. Bryan had arrived.
His Winged Tiger form soared above the battlefield, wings glowing with condensed light energy. Each beat left a faint shimmer in the air as he scanned the fight below.
"You're surrounded, Thomas. Might want to duck," Bryan called out.
Thomas didn't reply. He dropped to one knee.
A second later, arrows of light rained down from the sky. Each shot struck clean, tearing through armor and flesh. The Red Hands soldiers fell in clusters, smoke rising from the burns.
"Not bad," Thomas muttered as one arrow sliced past his shoulder and hit a Glint sneaking up from behind.
Bryan circled above, locking on to his next targets. "You're welcome."
Another volley followed. The battlefield lit up in bursts of white and gold.
Two Red Hands soldiers took the hits head-on. The light arrows punched through their chests, dropping them instantly. Three more fell in the next wave, bodies torn apart and armor shattered. One tried to crawl away, dragging himself through the dirt.
Bryan's voice stayed calm. "Told you I'd clean up."
A final burst of arrows rained down. The crawler went still.
Then a larger figure stepped forward. The soldier's body was covered in thick plates of armor like a walking tank. He raised both arms to block.
Bryan focused, then fired again. The shot drilled through the man's forearm, burning a hole straight through. Blood splattered across the ground as the giant staggered back, howling.
The remaining Red Hands hesitated. Their charge faltered and turned into confusion. What had started as an attack was already breaking apart.
One of the implanted soldiers moved faster than the rest. He dodged just enough to avoid a fatal hit, though his shoulder smoked from a near miss. He staggered, still alive but barely holding on.
A shimmer cut through the fog. Nevin's energy ball struck another Red Hands soldier aiming for Thomas.
"You've been hogging the spotlight, Thomas," Nevin said, eyes fixed on the enemy. "Let's fix that."
He launched another attack, an energy boomerang that sliced through the air before the soldier could react.
Another Glint rushed him right after, but Nevin moved quicker this time. His new Trickster Spirit form made him faster, his real hands and feet giving him sharper control. He dodged easily. Bryan's arrow struck from above a second later, and Nevin's energy boomerang followed from behind. The enemy's head flew clean off and hit the dirt.
Thomas's crew was clearly winning. Thomas kept two of the implanted soldiers busy at once, taking heavy hits but refusing to fall. Bryan and Nevin moved around him, striking from range and shifting the fight in their favor.
But the balance broke again when Lucian Duvall and his men joined the battle.