Guardians of The Damned-Chapter 3: Not So Tough After All

Well, it didn't matter anyway... I thought, floating through the ceiling to survey the surroundings. Parts were scattered across the floor, and impossibly thin threads covered every inch of the area.

...I've already covered this entire building with threads, I continued my internal monologue. Looking at the scraps on the ground, I felt a surge of satisfaction. That thing could dodge any visible attack—but what if the attack was completely hidden from sight?

The answer lay in front of him.

I didn't linger. With a skateboard-shaped cloud beneath me, I exited through a window. Once far enough from the building, I deactivated the threads spanning the hospital.

The journey to my next destination went smoothly. I landed at the entrance of a facility guarded by a thick steel door and a squad of armed soldiers.

One soldier, already familiar with me, raised a hand in greeting as the door began to open.

"How's your day, Sunny?" he asked.

"Doing good. Also, it's Synnefo," I corrected.

"That name's a mouthful. Everyone around here calls you Sunny anyway. It suits your powers—kind of poetic, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." I brushed him off and walked in.

"Still not calling you Synnefo," he added casually.

I didn't give it another thought and continued down the hall. It was heavily guarded—turrets mounted on cameras, laser grids sweeping the corridor.

With each step, the lasers vanished just ahead of me, clearing a safe path. If someone unauthorized stepped in, though? The lasers would remain—and slice them to pieces in an instant.

Eventually, I arrived at a door requiring a password, fingerprint, keycard, and voice recognition. I completed all four on the first try. A beep sounded, and the door slid open, revealing a spacious white hall bustling with activity.

People walked in every direction: some in lab coats, others in suits, casual wear, or combat gear. The scent of fresh air and room deodorizer hit me, and cool air from the vents chilled my skin. Behind me, the door sealed shut. I made my way to the designated meeting room.

Fewer people today. Maybe just my imagination—I don't usually notice the little things.

My phone buzzed.

**Johan:** `@The World where on earth are you?!`

**Me:** "Sorry. Something happened. I'm in the building, arriving shortly."

**Johan:** `Then hurry. Everyone's here. It's urgent.`

**Me:** "Okay."

Just as I hit send, something stirred in my peripheral vision—a shadowy hand stretching out from my own shadow.

My instincts kicked in. I bent backward just in time to dodge its attempt to strangle me.

**Swoosh!**

It missed by a hair. No time to celebrate. The hand gripped the floor. A second followed.

Two hands now planted firmly. It launched itself out of my shadow.

"I'm sure I turned you into scraps." I dropped into a boxing stance, facing the mecha—completely intact.

"Only God can decide my death," it responded in a cold, metallic voice.

"Can a machine enter heaven? Do robots even have souls?" I replied, half-serious, half-buying time.

"Yes. He is the most benevolent, after all."

While we exchanged words, I scanned for an opening—stalling until the guards could catch up. Truthfully, I couldn't take this thing alone without proper prep and traps.

Inside the base, using powers is forbidden unless it's a confirmed emergency.

This? Not an emergency. Not yet. I knew how the higher-ups worked—rules first, logic later. I'd be punished, no matter the explanation.

*Hah... I've already been punished enough,* I thought bitterly.

Sensing my stall tactic, the mecha lunged forward.

**Here it comes!**

It unsheathed a sword and slashed—one, two, three times—all aimed at vital points. I dodged each strike, stepping back until my back hit a wall.

"Why me?! There's plenty of 'Honor' walking around, tin can!"

"You're the most dangerous. The one with the most potential." It lunged, sword aimed at my heart.

I sidestepped at the last second. Its blade pierced the thick wall behind me. I grinned and countered with a hard punch.

But I hit only air. It vanished, reappearing a short distance away—without its sword.

**"Unknown material detected. Alert! Alert! Intruder!"**

A robotic voice blared. The lights flickered red, alarms screaming through the facility.

A smile tugged at my lips.

Power restrictions were now lifted.

Without delay, I summoned Puffy, who immediately swung his sword at the bot's neck. I rushed from the side, watching for that shockwave—

Yellow sparks danced across the mech's body. I quickly pulled Puffy back before he disappeared.

It turned its gaze to me.

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Knowing it could dodge almost anything, I transformed into mist and fled.

Sometimes, retreat isn't failure—it's strategy.

The mech hesitated—then launched into pursuit, faster than a drifting cloud. I darted around corners, hoping to shake it. But it crashed through every wall like a wrecking ball.

Dust filled the air. The chase raged on.

I lost count of the turns I took. But it was catching up. Outmaneuvering it was impossible.

My brain kicked into overdrive, frantically searching for a plan.

Then—

**"You're finished."**

The voice came from my right.

I instinctively released my mist form. Momentum carried me forward. I tumbled, rolled, bounced.

The mech was ahead of me now, turning around, yellow sparks flaring again.

Before I could react, a flash of light exploded, disabling my powers.

Disoriented, I felt cold metal wrap around my throat.

It tightened its grip.

Air vanished. My vision dimmed.

But I didn't go quietly.

I gripped its mechanical hand and squeezed with everything I had.

Its head tilted—confused—as its arm bent under my strength.

It tried pulling back with its other hand. No use. I heard a faint creak from its joint.

Sensing danger, it panicked—slammed me into the ground, again and again—then into the wall, hard enough to leave a crater. Two meters deep.

Finally, it flung me like a ragdoll through multiple walls.

---

**Inside the meeting room**, a man with sharp, intimidating features stood at the podium. His arms were crossed. Seven youths sat at desks, lost in their own worlds.

He stood in silence, ignored.

"So, can anyone tell me where Sunny is? And why he's late?" His tone trembled, barely hiding his rage.

"Probably out doing his hobby. One only an idiot would waste time on," muttered a black-haired boy, eyes fixed on his book.

"I envy him, honestly," said a blonde girl with a wistful smile. "Even if it's pointless."

"Don't mock him. At least he uses his powers to help people," a small boy piped up.

"My powers, my rules. I couldn't care less about weaklings. If not for the rules, I'd make them my slaves." The black-haired boy closed his book. His aura turned dark. Eyes glowed red.

"What's his hobby?" the man asked.

"You seriously don't know? You've been his commander for two years!" the small boy snapped.

"Why should I care? He could die tomorrow. No point wasting brain space."

"You're unbelievable," the boy muttered. Then, under his breath, "No wonder your last squad betrayed you."

"What was that?!" the man roared.

"Nothing," the boy lied quickly, cold sweat dripping. "Anyway, his hobby is—?!"

**CRASH!**

The window beside them shattered.

A figure flew through it, crashing into the wall with a thud.

Everyone activated their powers to shield against the glass.

---

My momentum stopped after I hit the wall. I looked around, then chuckled.

"What's funny? You're late," said the man on the podium, still in his crossed-arm pose.

"I found a new toy. How could I wait till after the mission?" I tossed a mechanical arm across the room. It bounced with a satisfying clank.

A moment later, the bot stumbled into the room—missing an arm, electricity arcing from its body.

"You forget something?" I smirked.