The desert at night was a world swallowed by silence.
Wind whispered across the dunes like something alive, and the only light came from Metatron's visor—a dim cyan flicker reflecting in his mask's black glass.
Behind him, StoneDragon's distant glow had faded. Ahead, the wasteland stretched endlessly, jagged rocks breaking through the sand like the bones of giants.
Then the ground moved.
Sand bulged, cracked, and exploded upward in a violent burst. A mechanical roar ripped through the stillness as the Dune Reclaimer tore itself free—a hulking fusion of rusted armor and beastly limbs, eyes glowing molten orange.
> [Field Boss: Dune Reclaimer – Lv.15]
[Threat Level: High | Weak Point: Rear Thermal Core]
Metatron rolled to his feet, Twinfire already in hand. But before he could aim, two blue streaks cut across the dark. Bullets.
Another player leapt from a dune ridge, twin revolvers spinning with unnatural precision. His trench coat flared as he landed, boots crushing sand. The faint light revealed his name above his head.
Cyberius.
"Guess I'm not the only one hunting at this hour," the gunslinger drawled, his voice half-smile, half-threat.
Metatron's tone stayed cold. "Stay out of my line."
Cyberius tipped his hat. "Only if you can keep up."
The Reclaimer's roar shattered their words. Its claws slammed into the ground, spraying molten dust. Both players moved instantly—Cyberius spinning out left, Metatron dashing right through the smoke.
Twinfire blazed. Each shot cracked like thunder, streaks of orange carving through the night.
> Direct Hit – -176 HP
The boss staggered. Cyberius took that cue, firing rounds that ricocheted off a broken plate into the creature's side. The glowing trails of his bullets danced like blue comets.
> [Cyberius – Skill Activated: Ricochet Waltz Lv.2]
"Your turn, partner!" he shouted, ducking behind a rock.
Metatron didn't reply—he switched Twinfire's barrel, locking in a piercing round. His visor zoomed on the exposed thermal vent.
One steady breath.
One clean pull.
> Piercing Mode Engaged – Weak Point Hit!
Core Integrity -15%
The Reclaimer screeched, cables bursting as heat vents flared red. It lunged forward, molten claws crashing down. Cyberius dived beneath the swipe, rolled, and fired upward. Sparks exploded in his wake.
"Could use a little less style and a little more aim," Metatron muttered, firing again.
Cyberius grinned mid-roll. "Style is aim!"
The ground quaked again—the Reclaimer's body glowed brighter, energy building for a charge. Both players exchanged a glance across the battlefield.
They moved without speaking.
Metatron sprinted low, sliding across the sand as Cyberius vaulted over a rock ridge. Their angles crossed—the perfect flanking strike.
> [Synchronization Detected – Combat Alignment: 85%]
"Now!" Metatron shouted.
> [Dual Action Mode Activated]
Orange and blue streaks spiraled together, cutting through the storm of sand and smoke. The shots merged midair, splitting again as they hit the exposed core.
> Critical! Weak Point Destroyed – -610 HP
The Dune Reclaimer convulsed, roaring in agony. Its frame began to collapse inward, molten light bleeding through its armor.
Cyberius reloaded with a spin, firing both revolvers into the crumbling mass.
Metatron steadied his stance and delivered the final round—dead center through the glowing heart.
The explosion was silent first—then thunder followed. Sand and light erupted skyward, painting the desert in red and gold for one brief heartbeat.
> [Field Boss Defeated: Dune Reclaimer]
[EXP Gained: 2,250]
[Loot Drop: Dune Alloy x2 | Core Battery | Damaged Firearm Blueprint]
Smoke curled over the sand, glowing faintly under the moonlight.
Cyberius whistled low, spinning his revolvers back into their holsters. "That was one hell of a dance, stranger."
Metatron walked to the shattered remains, visor scanning.
> [Item: Damaged Firearm Schematic – Requires Repair Forge (Tier II+)]
"Looks like something useful," he muttered.
Cyberius tilted his head. "You a forger?"
"I build what I trust."
"Smart. I usually just steal what works," Cyberius said, half-joking. "Name's Cyberius. Gunslinger path, frontier specialization. And you?"
"Metatron. Engineer path."
Cyberius gave a low whistle. "Figures. Ain't every day you meet someone who crafts weapons in the middle of nowhere."
The desert wind picked up again, colder now. The two shadows stood side by side, outlines sharp under the moonlight.
Cyberius finally broke the silence. "So... rumor says Night-Cap Jack's been seen near the Rusted Canyon. Same bounty I'm after. You heading that way too?"
Metatron holstered Twinfire. "I am."
"Well, partner," Cyberius said, tipping his hat again, "roads out there get lonely. Maybe we keep our triggers pointed in the same direction for a while."
Metatron hesitated, then nodded once. "Temporary alliance."
Cyberius chuckled. "Temporary's good enough for me."
They started walking, boots sinking into the soft sand, the night swallowing their figures. The wind howled over the dunes like a warning—or an invitation.
And as the dying embers of the Reclaimer's core flickered behind them, Metatron glanced at the horizon.
For the first time since logging in, he didn't walk alone.
But danger in Ascender Online never slept.
And the night had only just begun.