Chase retrieved his sword from the magnetic holder on the back of his mission suit. It'd been upgraded from the old one, as a sheath was built into his back and a slot from his holo-shield device laid in the lower portion of the sleeves. He willed the shield to life by closing his fist, the faint hum of the tangible hologram tickling his ears as he crept through the forest with his squad.

He scowled as he peered at Cutter, who was abrasively navigating through the thick underbrush of the woods. The guy slashed through the thicker leaves with a machete. At this point, Chase assumed he had every blade in the world hidden on his body. Despite only knowing the guy for about two hours, he already disliked him. Cutter was something of a bully. And he hated bullies.

Who does he think he is?

He may have been a high-ranking Atlas agent but that didn't give him the right to act like a total douche. Victoria acted similarly, though, in a much less antagonizing way. He figured it was an Atlas thing he'd just have to get used to.

He analyzed her plan, trying to deem whether it was effective or not. During trainings, he often served as the team's strategist. Accepting someone else's plan was proving quite the task. His father always told him to treat his authority figures with respect, which is why he didn't protest Director Shaw's decision to send the three agents out with them on the mission. However, his old man also taught him to never follow someone blindly.

That piece of advice stayed close to his heart.

After a couple of moments of deep though, he sighed, realizing that Victoria's plan was tactically solid.

Damn, she's good.

Then again, she'd spent her entire life training to be a soldier. Granted, he'd had a similar upbringing, but not on the same scale. He'd have expected her to be better than him. Though, it was a bit humbling knowing he wasn't the best. He'd get over it. Because while she and the other agents may have been superior tactically, he had something they didn't.

Superpowers.

Who needed perfect aim when he could swat enemies down like flies? A chill ran down his spine as he anticipated the upcoming fight. A few Kismet vans were parked around the warehouse, indicating that they'd arrived to acquire their shipment. Once he and the others were on the scene, the mercenaries wouldn't even make it out the doors with it.

As the group of nine approached the edge of the forest, which was serving as their temporary hiding spot, Precision held up his hand, motioning for them all to stop behind him. He pressed a button that was on his neck and a metal plated mask climbed up his throat and stopped once it covered his mouth. A crooked smile had been carved into the mask with a blade of some sorts, giving the agent a deranged appearance.

Chase arched an eyebrow at Victoria. ''You've got some strange friends.''

She scoffed. ''You're one to talk.''

''Touché.''

Cutter pulled a flat, silver circle out of his pocket and tapped its center. A map of the inside of the warehouse hovered above it. Red dots, which Chase assumed were the Kismet soldiers, moved slowly around the inside of the building.

Theo zipped next to the agent and peeked over his shoulder. ''How does that thing work? X-Ray? Heat vision?''

''Satellite.''

''Oh. I was close.''

''No, you weren't.''

''Fuego,'' Victoria said without looking at him. ''Get ready.''

Oscar frowned. ''This better work.''

''You'll be fine,'' Chase insisted. He patted the boy's shoulder for extra emphasis. It seemed to ease his nerves a bit, but he still looked anxious.

Victoria faced Emily, who was aiming at the entrance to the warehouse with one of her red-tipped explosive arrows—she'd received a whole batch of specialty arrows for the mission. ''After Fuego lights their vehicles on fire, you send your arrows in.''

She nodded curtly, her aim never wavering. ''Got it.'''

Victoria looked around at the rest of the team. ''Titan and Sentinel, you two rush in first. Take out the guards near and around the entrance. Blur and Starchild, once a path is cleared, you two advance in after the brutes take care of the first wave of hostiles. Me, Cutter, and Precision will provide cover.''

Beside her, Cutter shut off his tracking device and grinned.

Chase's grip tightened around his sword. He shared a look with Andre, whose skin adopted a glossy, metallic casing. They nodded at each other, steely expressions on their chiseled faces.

Showtime.

#

Chase raised his blue shield in front of him, bullets bouncing off the hologram. He swung the flat part of his sword at a mercenary approaching him. The guard screamed as his body sailed through the air.

Andre thundered forward, his once metal skin now the worn texture of solid concrete. He barreled towards a group of guards, their bullets harmlessly bouncing off rock hard skin. The two of them quickly dispatched of the six guards who had been patrolling the entrance—which had been partially destroyed by Emily.

A couple of seconds later, a silver and black streak zipped into the building, knocking people down as it went. Stella entered in shortly after, bolts of bright firing from her palms and at anyone advancing on her position.

Chase's ears perked upon he heard two guards creeping behind him. He sidestepped just in time to dodge a knife strike but wasn't quick enough to get out the way of the fist.

He staggered backward, ignoring the slight pain flaring in his nose. It was still slightly crooked from when it got broken by a Kismet guard. He wasn't trying to have it damaged again.

He detached the shield from his wrist. Before the guard who hit him could move, the shield was launched at his chest. The guard dropped to the ground like a sack of quarters.

Chase combat rolled around the other guard and retrieved his shield from the floor before sticking out a leg, tripping the man. He drove the hilt of his sword into the man's masked face, knocking him unconscious.

Grinning, he got back to his feet and admired his handiwork. His combat background was starting come in handy. He was starting to like this. While it felt different from a simulated training session, the adrenaline rushing in his veins elevated his mind.

He looked to the side and saw his friends engaged in their own small battles around the warehouse. Precision and Emily took up positions in the upper level of the building, firing off bullets and arrows, respectively, down at the guards below.

Theo zoomed around the room, laughing maniacally as he clotheslined and shoved multiple mercenaries. Stella had run outside to help Oscar, who was dealing with the reinforcement Kismet troops who'd just pulled up outside.

To Chase's left, Cutter was dodging multiple attacks from a triad of guards who'd surrounded him. His short, but lithe, body weaved between the armored men, occasionally punching, kicking, and stabbing. Chase noticed that the agent was holding several small knives between his gloved fingers. With one swipe of his hand, all the blades shot from their notches. All the guards around him cried out, clutching at where the knifes pierced their skin.

''That's how you do it,'' Cutter bragged.

Chase scoffed. He prepared to run off to help Andre, who was taking on five soldiers at once. As he turned, the wind was suddenly knocked out of him. Pain rippled through his body as he soared through the air. He collided with some empty boxes, packing peanuts flying above his head. Grimacing, he tried ignoring the immense discomfort pulsating throughout his left arm. He quickly got back up to his feet and grabbed his sword, which landed a couple of feet away.

''What the— ''

He was interrupted by an echoing howl. The hair-raising sound bounced off the walls, shaking the windows. The gag-inducing smell of a wet dog assaulted Chase's nostrils. He scrunched his nose in disgust, his brows furrowed.

Heavy footsteps boomed behind him.

He swiveled around only to be thrown back again. He landed on his feet this time, his feet digging into the floor as he skidded backward. With his blue eyes larger than dinner plates, he gawked at the hulking figure charging at him.

The man was built like a pro wrestler with a thick neck bulging with muscles and veins. An unkempt mop of thick, brown hair sat atop his head. A scruffy beard of the same color covered most of his grotesque face. He looked more like a canine than a man. An armored version of the standard Kismet uniform adorned his body.

Chase's face contorted in confusion as he examined him. He quickly realized that the hair covering the man's face and hands wasn't hair at all; it was fur. It covered his entire body. Razor-sharp nails stretched from each of his hairy fingers. The man snarled at Chase, showcasing his equally sharp teeth.

''Is that a werewolf?!'' he heard Theo yell from somewhere nearby.

Chase had no idea. He didn't have time to think about it, as the wolfman was running at him. His breath hitching, he tightened his hand around the hilt of his weapon. It suddenly felt heavy in his grip.

''You die here, puny boy!'' the monster-ish mercenary boasted, his guttural voice suffocated with a deep Russian accent. He pawed the floor with his massive feet.

Chase calmed himself while backing away. ''I prefer to be called Sentinel.''

The man must have been a Prime. That was the only explanation as to why he looked like a human-wolf hybrid. He wasn't even sure something like that was possible; but, then again, his own abilities shouldn't exist either. Superpowers, terrorists, monsters, and psychopaths who want to infect the world with a weird element. Chase sighed. When would the madness end?

The wolfman shook his head like a dog and growled, the sound reminding Chase of a lively motorcycle engine. 

''I vill enjoy tearing you to pieces.''

Chase raised his shield up just in time to stop a huge paw from slicing him across the face. Not that the man's claws could cut his skin, anyways. At least, he didn't think they could. But even though Chase's skin was impervious to high amounts of damage, he could still feel pain. And he wasn't really in the mood to feel five nail marks streaking across his face.

He rolled backward and thrust upwards with his blade, hoping to find a mark. No such luck.

The wolfman swatted Chase's sword to the side and hoisted him into the air by his neck. Chase wheezed for air as the man began crushing his trachea. He tried prying his furry fingers off his neck but his strength was fleeting due to the lack of air to his brain.

He was determined to not let himself get killed by a werewolf. A Russian one at that. Chase shut his eyes, attempting to conjure up any extra strength lingering in his muscles.

Come on, Chase, come on!

He swore he saw his dad barking words of encouragement at him. Or maybe he was just hallucinating due to him being deprived of oxygen. That was probably it.

''Dig deep, son!"

He didn't really care what was causing it. He was just happy for the extra motivation. It was the only thing keeping him conscious. Chase exhaled as he felt his muscles ripple with newfound energy and power. He smiled from ear to ear, his ocean blue eyes lighting up.

The wolfman's thick lips twisted into a confused snarl. ''Why are you— ''

Chase tucked his legs in and kicked out, catching the man in his stomach. The iron grip on his throat was vanished as the man slid across the ground, howling as he clutched at his midsection. Now that he'd separated from the Prime, he examined his neck. As his fingers probed around his throat, he let out a sigh of relief after realizing that his skin hadn't been bruised.

He refocused his attention on his assailant. He was starting to hate dogs. The hybrid monster was already back to his feet. He pounced in Chase's direction, but he was ready this time. He moved to the side and smacked the man in the face with his shield. The wolfman yelped like a wounded dog. Dark blood oozed out from his cheek, matting his stringy fur.

Chase wiped the blood from his holographic shield with the back of his hand and waited for the Prime to come back at him.

''C'mon you stupid mutt,'' he taunted, banging his sword against his shield. Blue sparks flew from where the silver blade met the hologram.

The wolfman leaped through the air claws first. Chase let the man tackle him; everything was going to plan. He had him right he wanted him. A loud howl pierced his ears as his sword drove through the man's shoulder. Blood dripped onto Chase's face as the wolfman's body collapsed on top of his own

''Aw, gross,'' Chase murmured as he pushed the man's hairy body onto the dusty floor. He wiped the warm blood of his face, the faint taste of metal growing in his mouth. He was going to need a ton of mouthwash when he got back to The Acropolis.

After getting up, he observed his team as they finished off the remaining Kismet men. He spotted Emily shooting sonic rings from her mouth at a couple of guards running towards her. Victoria, Precision, and Cutter fired rounds at the other mercenaries while Theo ran against the walls, taking out any outliers. Andre had gone outside to join Stella and Oscar in fighting off the reinforcement troops.

A grin pulled at Chase's lips. They looked like a well-oiled machine, each part working in tandem to achieve the end goal. They looked like a team.

And a damn good one at that.

#

''We have to carry all of that back to the jet?'' Theo cried as he stared at towards the collection of large, metal boxes stacked on top of each other located on the far side of the warehouse. The crates all had the Nexxus Industries logo printed on the sides. Digital tags built into the metal displayed the container's assigned number. There was no indication of what was inside, though.

''Relax,'' Victoria said. ''We've called for a few trucks to come down and help us load all this stuff. They should be here soon.''

Chase nodded and turned to the rest of the group. ''Everyone— ''

''—grab a box,'' Cutter finished. The two of them glared at each other after they both uttered the command simultaneously.

Precision, who stood off to the side, signed something to the knife-wielding man. Cutter grumbled a response while aggressively signing back. The pair carried on like that for a few moments before the latter conceded. ''Alright, alright.'' He signed a message back to the deaf man. ''You owe me, mutey.'' Precision chuckled quietly as he leaned against his sniper rifle.

The other agent reluctantly turned to Chase. He averted his green eyes to the ground, scowling. ''Uh...good work out there, Sentinel. Y'know, for an amateur.''

Chase resisted the urge to punch him in the face. Instead, he decided to play along. ''You too.'' He extended a hand out to the man. Cutter stared at it for a moment before taking it. They stood there shaking hands for a few seconds, their gazes hard as obsidian. 

Cutter broke eye contact first, much to the blond's delight. He moved away to start moving some of the boxes. Chase and the others followed suit. He carried about four crates a time with relative ease while everyone else struggled to hold even one. Theo tried pushing one forward, his legs moving at inhuman speeds. He looked like the cartoon roadrunner.

As Chase took his containers outside, he wondered how many more Primes Kane had at his disposal. The wolfman was an unpleasant surprise. If they were to fight again, he wanted to know exactly what he was up against. So far, he knew Kismet had Apex, Frost, and now the werewolf Prime among their ranks. He desperately hoped that was everyone.

He wondered where he even got them from. An image of Kane and the Kismet mercenaries walking through the mall holding up recruitment fliers popped into his head. He chuckled at the thought. That would truly be a hilarious sight.

His mind went back to that night at the quarry. Kane described himself as a detector. Chase wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but he had a solid idea. He was guessing Kane was somehow able to sense who was a Prime and who wasn't—regardless of whether they'd been exposed to Primonium or not. He wasn't sure how it worked but it would've explained how the leader of Kismet knew they were in the forest.

His jaw clenched as he remembered the car crash. That night, his life changed forever. He hadn't seen—or even talked to—his parents in what felt like years. They knew he was okay, but he longed to see them again. He should've been used to it, with them rarely being home anyway, but he wasn't; he missed them terribly and couldn't shake the feeling.

That was why stopping Kismet's plan was so important to him. If anything happened to them because he and his friend's failed, he didn't know what he'd do. He reflected on the possible outcomes of Kane's scheme. If he succeeded, people would get hurt; that was a given. He couldn't let that to happen. He'd rather die. But, if he could help it, it wouldn't be him biting the dust.

Kismet was going down. He'd make sure of it.

''Time to go, Chase,'' Stella said from behind him.

Nodding, he set his last crate down in front of one of the vans that arrived outside the warehouse just a few minutes ago. He joined Stella as she and the others made their way off to their jet nestled in the forest. His arms and legs were killing him. Fighting the wolfman sapped all his energy. He remembered the sudden burst of strength he called upon when the Prime had his meaty paw closed around his throat. He didn't know how he did it, but it surely saved his life. But, as a result, it left him exhausted. All he knew was he couldn't wait to get home.

As he approached the jet, he smiled.

He'd just referred to the Atlas headquarters as his home. He never called any place he lived his home; not California, not North Dakota, not Germany. The attachment was never there for him. He always felt out of place, like a square peg in a round hole. But the Acropolis? That was his home now. His new friends? They were his family, whether they knew it or not.

Chase never had real friends before. And he never felt important. But, had he never let Theo talk him into going to the Forest Bash, he would've still been just a regular, friendless person. A warm feeling of content spread throughout him. His smile grew.

Had it not been for Theo, he also wouldn't have gotten closer with Stella. Over the past weeks, their friendship grew exponentially. Before the incident at the quarry, he had no chance with her. Now, he was sure there was a spark. At least he hoped so. He mulled over the idea of asking her out. Though, if he did, he wasn't sure where he'd take her. He couldn't exactly take her out for a night in the city or something.

He shook his head. He'd figure it out later. They still had to defeat Kismet. If they didn't, he could kiss any dates with her goodbye.

As he stepped inside the jet, joining his team, the ramp lifted behind him. Once he took his seat next to Stella, the aircraft's engines came to life. Within seconds, they had ascended from the underbrush and lifted into the dimming sky.