Mark burst back into the apartment, his heart pounding as he surveyed the chaos that greeted him—a room overturned in disarray, with remnants of spilled food pooling on the stained floor and shattered pieces of furniture scattered like fragments of a broken dream. In the midst of it all sat Katerina, a solitary figure overwhelmed by sorrow as she cradled her grandmother’s lifeless form. Tears cascaded down her cheeks, each drop echoing the gravity of the moment. Mark paused, feeling the crushing weight of tragedy he had failed to avert, before turning to her with an urgency that brooked no dey.

  “We need to leave, Katerina,” he decred, his voice firm yet ced with deep concern.

  Katerina’s eyes, wide with panic and den with grief, met his as she whispered, “Where? Griselda and her gang will be after us,” her voice trembling like a fragile whisper in a storm.

  Raising an eyebrow at the unfamiliar name, Mark asked, “Who is Griselda?” as he tried to piece together the night’s escating camity.

  Katerina expined, her tone mixing fear and astonishment, “The woman with the batons. I saw you send her hurtling out the window.” She paused, her voice catching on sorrow, “She survived, but I can’t just leave my grandma like this.”

  A pang of guilt surged through Mark as he absorbed the peril of their situation. Gently, he took Katerina’s free hand in his, seeking to console her with his steadfast presence. “I’m guessing Griselda is no ordinary foe—she’s part of a rge gang with more than seven thugs at her beck and call. I fought her evenly, which means she must be some kind of Super.” His tone carried both disbelief and an emerging assessment of the dangers they faced.

  Katerina’s eyes sparkled with a tentative hope as she replied, her voice gradually gaining strength, “No, you are stronger than her. She wears an exosuit and is known to have Superhuman Body power. The fact that you matched her so effortlessly suggests that your power must be at Peak Superhuman Body power. Most people consider Peak powers around S to A rank so you are lucky..”

  Her words echoed in his mind as Mark swiftly scanned the chaotic apartment. Time was not on their side, so he rifled through the pockets of the fallen thugs, collecting crumpled cash and counting it with anxious speed. His savings had somehow jumped to around fifteen thousand dolrs—a sum that might see them through to try and find a pce to hideout for a while.

  Determination etched on his face, Mark looked back at Katerina. “Is there somewhere that won’t ask too many questions—a pce where we can rest and pn our next move?”

  Katerina nodded, her features hardening with resolve as she recalled a secret haven. “The Sewers,” she said, her voice firm and resolute. “Decades ago, a development down there was canceled, and shady figures cleared it out, transforming the space into hideouts for those wishing to vanish. It isn’t difficult to find, but the security measures for anyone trying to break in are surprisingly stringent.” Before Katerina could protest, he urged, “Grab some clothes quickly; I’ll lead us out.” In mere seconds, she gathered a few changes into a bag, and Mark scooped her into a fireman’s carry. With a running start and absolute trust in the strength of his enhanced abilities, he sprung toward the broken window they had earlier created, leaping into the night.

  As Mark soared through the cool air, the city below appeared as a consteltion of flickering lights, tiny like fireflies scattered across a vast, dark tapestry. The sensation of flight was surreal—the ground receding as they sailed above familiar rooftops, narrow alleys, and the quiet despair of the city streets. Katerina clung to him, her muted screams barely discernible over the wild rush of wind. Finally, his feet smmed into the earth with the force of a thundercp, marking the end of their breathtaking descent. The impact carved a crater of shattered pavement around him, a dramatic testament to his newfound, superhuman power.

  Mark exhaled in awe, the word “Wow” escaping his lips as if it were a mantra confirming his extraordinary abilities. “I really am Superhuman,” he murmured, his voice filled with wonder.

  Katerina’s panic subsided into stunned silence as she absorbed the spectacle of their nding. “Okay, you can put me down now,” she insisted, relief mingling with urgency. Mark carefully set her on solid ground before extricating his legs from the murky grip of pulverized concrete. Locking eyes with her, his look was resolute and ready; “Lead the way,” he instructed.

  Together, they navigated the byrinthine streets that wound their way deeper into the underbelly of Lowbridge. The atmosphere grew heavier with neglect, the once-vibrant glow of streetlights dimming into a sullen twilight as the scent of decay and forgotten dreams permeated the air. They passed rows of dipidated buildings—desote structures bearing silent testimony to a bustling past that had long since faded into memory. Amid the shadows, homeless figures and precariously pced barrels of fmmable material offered only fleeting gnces before dismissing the swift-moving pair.

  Eventually, their narrow path opened into a sprawling, abandoned industrial zone. Tangled steel scaffolds and crumbling concrete formed a chaos that seemed to invite only the desperate. At the heart of this forgotten area, they came upon the yawning entrance of a vast tunnel—a monolithic portal standing firm in the dark. Two women guarded the entrance, armored in sleek exosuits that caught the faint light and refracted it with an eerie gleam. Their stance was both rexed and authoritative, each gripping an automatic weapon as though it were an extension of themselves.

  One of the armed guards stepped forward, her sharp gaze assessing the newcomers with practiced caution. “You a resident here or looking for a pce?” she asked, her voice measured and ced with wary authority.

  Without hesitation, Mark replied, “We’re looking to get a pce. I need to y low,” his tone imbued with the urgency that had carried them this far.

  The guard nodded once in understanding and signaled to her partner. Together, they advanced slowly. “Arms up,” the first guard commanded as she swiftly patted Mark down in a thorough search, ensuring he posed no threat. Once satisfied, she gestured for them to follow, leading them deeper into the tunnel.

  The air inside was damp and rank. Echoes of distant sounds mingled with the drip-drip of water from unseen cracks overhead, accentuating the sense of isotion. Mark’s eyes flicked to Katerina, who now absorbed the eerie surroundings with a steadiness that contrasted with the chaos they'd left behind. Their footsteps bounced around the cavernous space as they made their way until they finally halted in front of a rge, imposing metal door. A guard knocked three measured times.

  A muffled voice responded from within, granting them entry. The door swung open with a reverberating cng, ushering them into a space that starkly contrasted with the grim nuances of the tunnel. Lavish furnishings and a plush, richly patterned carpet softened the harshness of the outside world. Every piece of decor was meticulously arranged, radiating an air of power and opulence befitting a mogul’s sanctuary.

  Behind a polished, commanding desk sat a fit, middle-aged woman. Her long bck hair, streaked with an arresting band of silver, framed her face with an aura of refined authority. Rising slightly from her seat, she greeted them with a shrewd yet warm smile as if welcoming potential allies. One of the guards lingered at the entrance while the other stepped back, leaving only the woman and the two fugitives in the elegantly appointed space.

  “What can The Broker do for you?” she asked, gesturing gracefully for them to take a seat. Her voice carried the poise and confidence of someone who wielded power effortlessly, inviting them to share their troubled tale amid the refined surroundings.