Then, from the darkness, emerged a monstrous silhouette—a hulking, twisted form. The Nethersmith was no man, but a grotesque Verminthar creature, roughly the size of a Ratoger, its body a horrible fusion of rat-like features and savage mechanical augmentations. Its fur was matted and ragged, and its eyes glowed with a sickly green hue, reflecting the faint light from the smoldering fires. Jagged metal limbs, grafted onto its form, creaked and groaned as it moved, their edges honed to unnatural sharpness. The creature’s back was hunched under the weight of the machinery embedded into its flesh, tubes and wires snaking out from beneath its skin, feeding dark energy into its twisted heart.

  The Nethersmith stopped, its glowing eyes narrowing as it locked onto Reinhard and Mars. Its mouth opened in a gurgling hiss, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth, metal and bone gleaming in the dim light.

  “You think you can destroy what I’ve created?” the Nethersmith rasped, its voice warping between mechanical clicks and guttural growls. “The Netherstone is beyond your understanding. It will reshape the world, and you—nothing more than vermin—will serve it, whether you like it or not.”

  Reinhard’s pulse quickened. This wasn’t just an enemy—this was a perverse amalgamation of Verminthar madness and Netherstone corruption. The Nethersmith wasn’t simply a twisted genius; it was a living weapon, capable of maniputing the very substance that had tainted this pce. Reinhard had no doubt it could tear him apart in an instant if given the chance.

  The Nethersmith’s mechanical limbs flexed with a low whine, and its mouth twisted into a grin. It seemed to savor the moment, watching Reinhard and Mars with cold amusement.

  “I’ve been waiting for you,” it continued, its voice more sinister now. “The Netherstone has spoken. The world is changing. And I will be its architect.”

  Reinhard’s grip on his rifle tightened as he weighed his options. He wasn’t sure if any weapon he had would be enough to take down something this monstrous, but he had to try. The Nethersmith was too dangerous to let live.

  Without warning, the creature lunged. Its mechanical limbs moved faster than Reinhard could track, propelling it across the workshop with unnatural speed. Its cws scraped the stone floor, sending sparks flying as it closed the distance.

  Reinhard barely had time to react. He squeezed the trigger of his Banshee 300 BLK Out, the rifle’s shots tearing through the air. The first shot hit, but it ricocheted off the Nethersmith’s metallic pting with a loud cng. The second, aimed at its chest, found its mark, but the creature didn’t slow. Instead, it howled in fury, its eyes bzing even brighter.

  The Nethersmith raised one of its cwed hands, crackling with dark energy. Reinhard barely had time to react before the air around him shimmered, and a bolt of green energy shot toward him. It struck the stone beside him, and the ground trembled as the energy spread, warping the very fabric of the workshop.

  Mars barked in warning, his teeth bared, but the Nethersmith’s eyes locked onto him now, and with a sickening screech, it hurled a bst of energy directly at the direwolf.

  Reinhard moved instinctively, throwing himself in front of Mars, and the bst smmed into him. He gritted his teeth as the energy coursed through him, searing his body. His muscles locked, and for a moment, he thought he might colpse, but his resolve held strong.

  A burning pain seared through his chest, but he didn’t have time to focus on it. Reinhard forced himself to move, pushing through the pain as he reached for his secondary weapon—his pistol. The suppressed shots from his Banshee weren’t doing enough to slow the Nethersmith down. But he had another tool at his disposal.

  He pulled the teargas canister from his belt and, using a quick motion, activated the device and hurled it into the air. It sailed toward the Nethersmith’s position, and with a hiss, a thick cloud of choking gas erupted from the canister, rapidly filling the air around the creature.

  Mars, his rebreather already sealing off the dangerous vapors, howled in satisfaction as the creature recoiled. The Nethersmith’s mechanical form jerked erratically as it tried to avoid the gas, but it was already too te. The Nethersmith, unprepared for the disorienting effects of the teargas, faltered, its senses overwhelmed by the thick cloud.

  The drones, hovering silently in the shadows above, adjusted their positioning with precision. Guided by Reinhard’s ATAK system, the drones surged forward, fshing their intense strobe lights into the Nethersmith’s glowing eyes. The light disoriented the creature further, causing it to screech and thrash, its mechanical limbs filing wildly in the air.

  Reinhard didn’t waste the opportunity. As the Nethersmith staggered, he fired his pistol with precision, hitting it in the weak joints where the metal and flesh met. Each shot nded with a resounding crack, but the creature wasn’t going down yet.

  The drones continued to barrage the Nethersmith with light, confusing it further, while Reinhard used the opening to reload his rifle. The Nethersmith’s thrashing grew more erratic, but it wasn’t retreating. Instead, it raised its cws again, crackling with dark energy.

  But this time, it didn’t see the next strike coming.

  A small grenade from one of the drones—equipped with a specialized EMP charge—nded at the creature’s feet. The electrical pulse from the explosion wasn’t enough to take it down, but it sent a shockwave through the Nethersmith’s systems, causing its limbs to spasm and lock in pce for a split second.

  Reinhard didn’t hesitate. He squeezed the trigger of his rifle again, the final shot finding its mark. The Nethersmith’s form shuddered and colpsed to the ground with a sickening thud, its body twitching in the aftermath of the EMP surge.

  The drones hovered in the air above, their lights dimming slowly, while Reinhard and Mars stood ready for any further movement.

  Reinhard exhaled slowly, his chest still burning from the earlier bst. “Not today,” he muttered.

  Mars growled low, cautiously sniffing the air around the fallen creature. Reinhard’s gaze locked onto the Nethersmith, still twitching.

  “I don’t believe it’s truly over,” he muttered. The faint green glow from the creature’s eyes had dimmed, but it still shimmered with a dangerous, perverse energy.

  The battle was far from won.

  Reinhard didn’t waste time. Seeing the Nethersmith lying on the ground, he moved with methodical precision. His hand was steady as he drew his pistol, the familiar weight of the weapon in his grip bringing a sense of crity amidst the chaos. He used the tried and tested Mozambique technique, firing two shots to the chest, then one more to the head. The Nethersmith’s form convulsed once and y still, confirming that it would not rise again.

  He reloaded his pistol with swift, practiced motions, ensuring the weapon was ready for whatever might come next. His hand then moved to his chest, where the earlier bst had struck him. He grimaced slightly as his fingers brushed against the burn, but to his relief, the damage was minimal—just a few superficial wounds that would heal in time.

  Mars, ever watchful, stood beside him. Reinhard ran his hands over the Direwolf’s fur, checking for injuries. The beast growled softly, as if to reassure him. No injuries, nothing more than a few scratches from the heat of the battle. Reinhard exhaled, a weight lifting off his shoulders.

  "Good boy," he muttered under his breath, a brief moment of warmth passing between him and Mars before his focus returned to the task at hand.

  He turned his attention to the drones, his voice calm and commanding. “Patrol the main gallery. Check for any movement or threats.”

  The drones, guided by his ATAK system, responded with swift precision. They darted through the workshop, their sensors scanning the area as they moved. Soon, they were on their way toward the workbench, where the remains of the Nethersmith’s work y in disarray. The tools, the twisted metal scraps, and the cluttered documents all seemed like a testimony to the creature’s madness.

  Reinhard’s eyes flicked over the piles of scribbled notes and hastily drawn diagrams. Some were incoherent, the scribbles barely legible—mad ramblings, perhaps. But others... others held significance. One particur page caught his attention, its design a muddled mess of various sketches and markings. His heart sank as he recognized it—the sewer system beneath the city. This wasn’t just one isoted nest, he realized. It was part of a much rger network of these twisted creatures, hidden beneath the city’s streets, all connected in a dark, sprawling web.

  “This is just the beginning,” Reinhard muttered, the weight of the discovery settling over him like a cold shroud. There would be more nests, more of these abominations to wipe out. His job wasn’t done yet.

  He quickly scanned the rest of the papers, finding more pns, blueprints, and disturbing notes, all pointing toward the Nethersmith’s wider schemes. They were scattered across the workbench, evidence of something far more insidious than just this one workshop.

  Reinhard tucked the map into his gear, knowing it would be invaluable ter. He topped up his ammunition, making sure his Banshee 300 BLK Out rifle and pistol were both in prime condition. He also checked his canisters of Noxshade, making sure he had enough for the next stages of the journey.

  “Ready, Mars?” Reinhard asked, his voice steady but filled with resolve.

  Mars gave a low bark in response, his eyes focused on the shadows ahead. There was no hesitation in his movement as he padded beside Reinhard, ready to continue.

  Reinhard gave his companion a quick pat on the head. “We have to push onward, boy.”

  With the final gnce over their surroundings, Reinhard and Mars made their way out of the workshop. The path ahead was uncertain, fraught with danger and the looming threat of more Verminthar nests beneath the city. But one thing was clear—there was no turning back now. They had a mission to complete, and fast, before their raid was discovered, as Reinhard wasn’t about to let this madness spread any further.