Taboo Online

Red Hound led the assault team down the stairs exposed beneath the furnace floor.

Luke and Lauren followed only as far as the reinforced landing above the central chamber. Two ceramic barriers locked into place around Luke’s field chair, while Lauren remained beside him with the medic close behind.

The room below had once housed the depot’s largest furnace.

A circular receiving frame now filled the entire space.

Twelve empty sockets surrounded the outer wall. Black conduits crossed the floor and entered a human-shaped harness at the center. Several of the lines still glowed even though the external feeds had been severed.

The branded leader stood inside the harness.

Metal braces held his arms away from his body as part of the machine. Black brands covered his marked hand, chest, neck, and one side of his face, while cables entered the frame along his ribs and spine. Blood ran from several contact points and disappeared beneath the metal platform.

The archive had been accurate. His body and the receiving frame now functioned as one system.

A blast door separated the assault team from the central ring. Red Hound approached the narrow armored window built into it, while ceramic cutting crews spread along both sides of the sealed frame.

The branded leader looked up.

"You brought the Oracle and her blade."

Luke remained seated behind the second barrier with his right hand supported against his chest.

"The other three aren’t coming to help you," he said. "They’re all in custody."

For the first time, the leader’s expression shifted. His eyes moved toward the empty sockets before returning to Luke.

"Alive?"

"Yes."

The answer seemed to trouble him more than news of their deaths would have. Whatever plan he had made for failure, it had not included all three surviving long enough to be questioned.

Red Hound placed one hand against the blast door. "Open it and step away from the frame."

The leader glanced toward the twelve empty sockets.

"You took every piece that could have made this permanent. I expected at least one of them to survive you."

"They won’t reach you," Red Hound said. "Your collaborators are secured, the workers are out, and the outer ring is dead. This ends here."

The brands crossing the leader’s chest pulsed.

"I never trusted the equipment to survive. My body was always meant to be the anchor."

He pressed his marked palm deeper into the central frame.

The silver-gray opening behind him widened.

Light from the chamber bent toward it. The pale towers from the recording appeared beyond the unstable passage, clearer than before. They rose from a field of dark glass beneath a sky filled with motionless lightning.

A tall shape stood between the nearest towers.

It had no visible face. Long limbs hung beside a narrow body, and a crown of branching shadows rose from its head.

The shape took one step toward the opening.

Every sensor in the depot began sounding at once.

"Passage width increasing," the analyst reported. "It remains unstable. There is no permanent lock."

The floor beneath the landing vibrated. Fine dust fell from the ceiling, and the air around the gate pulled toward the silver-gray light.

Luke’s wrist turned colder.

"The residue is reacting to the current," he said. "Still confined to the wrist. No pull."

Lauren tightened her fingers around the side of Luke’s chair. The analyst’s readings had already made the remaining structure clear: every active line passed through the branded leader before reaching the opening.

Red Hound switched to the rescue channel. "Status of the workers?"

"All eight are above ground. The outer floor is clear, and all seven collaborators are secured."

"Confirm the freight exits."

"Sealed. No movement outside the perimeter."

Red Hound looked toward the engineering crews. "Destroy every external feed."

Teams across the depot activated the charges placed around the outer frame.

Ceramic cutters and suppression bursts struck the empty sockets together. The receiving ring broke in twelve places, collapsing every route that might have held the passage open.

The silver-gray edges shuddered.

One section folded inward and vanished. Another tore away from the chamber wall, reducing the opening by nearly a third.

The tall figure on the other side stopped.

For a moment, Luke thought the passage might close on its own.

Then the brands across the leader’s body brightened.

The strain transferred into him. His back arched against the harness, and blood ran faster from the contact points along his ribs. The gate steadied before it could collapse completely.

The analyst’s voice sharpened through the channel. "The outer frame is gone. The opening cannot stabilize, but the primary anchor is compensating."

"How long?" Red Hound asked.

"No reliable estimate. His heart rate is unstable, and the chamber is taking structural damage."

The branded leader lifted his head with visible effort.

"Permanent was for later," he said. "Tonight, I only needed an answer."

The tall shape moved closer to the narrowing passage.

Its long arm rose.

The hand at the end of it had too many joints, with fingers that separated into thin branches near their tips. Dark light traveled along those branches and gathered where the palm should have been.

Luke described the branching hand in a few hurried words as Lauren found his left hand.

"Does that mean anything to you?" he asked.

"Nothing I recognize."

Her voice remained steady, but partner resonance carried the fear she did not need to say aloud.

The shape extended its hand toward Earth.

Black brands already embedded around the blast door flared. The seams fused together, and the locking mechanism warped inside its housing as the primary anchor forced power back through the prepared metal.

"The door is part of the branded network," Lauren said.

The cutting team tested the edges and immediately pulled back when black current ran across their tools.

"Outer frame is dead," the analyst confirmed. "The leader is feeding the door and the gate through his own body."

Red Hound turned to the ceramic crews. "Separate the hinges from the wall. Don’t give the current a path back through the cutters."

The crews repositioned. Suppression plates locked over the branded seams, while insulated braces took the weight of the door.

Beyond the armored window, the leader watched them work. His breathing had become shallow, but his marked hand remained pressed against the frame.

The tall figure’s fingertips touched the silver-gray light.

The entire depot shook.

A crack raced across the ceiling of the central chamber. One of the remaining conduits tore free and whipped across the floor, spraying black sparks before a suppression plate trapped it.

The figure on the other side leaned closer.

For a second, the passage framed the outline of its head. There was still no face, only a smooth darkness beneath the branching crown.

Red Hound stepped back from the fused door and pointed toward the cutting teams.

"The civilians are clear, and the permanent frame is already destroyed. Open this chamber."

The first cutter bit into the wall beside the upper hinge.

Black current flared, struck the suppression plate, and died against the ceramic surface. A second cutter entered below it.

The blast door shifted inside its warped frame.

Luke felt Lauren’s fingers tighten around his hand as a narrow gap opened along one side.

Silver-gray light spilled through.

Beyond the door, the branded leader held the unstable passage open with his own body while the shape on the other side reached toward Earth.

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