It had been less than five days since the new recruits joined Horizon Heroes, when their first real mission dropped like a hammer.
[Code Name: Operation Juggernaut.
Target: Big Rick.
Status: Active threat. Urban casualties confirmed.]
The mission wasn't supposed to be theirs. Not yet.
But the top five Horizon Heroes were out of reach. Firepower was still underground, whereabouts unknown. The Boulder, Quickjet, and Captain Helena were off on a diplomatic mission in Afghanistan. Red Ray? He was in Atlanta, hosting a celebrity meet-and-greet. Rumor had it he was fundraising to pay off a mountain of gambling debt.
As for the rest? Silent. Absent. Most of the older heroes had quietly dodged the call. This mission wasn't appealing, it was dangerous, messy, unpredictable.
But the recruits? They didn't have the luxury of saying no.
This wasn't just a call-up.
It was a test.
And now, they stood in the burning wreckage of Manhattan's midtown, where the test had already claimed dozens of lives. SWAT officers lay sprawled across the pavement, their armor shattered, their blood pooling. Flames still roared from overturned trucks, and the remains of the downed chopper smoked in a heap of twisted metal.
Sirens wailed in the distance. Glass cracked in burning buildings above them. The stench of ash and blood choked the air.
Froststorm crouched beside the barely-breathing body of Sergeant Sandra Albright. Her white-gloved fingers pressed gently against the woman's neck.
"The pulse is weak," she said, standing. "But she's alive. I'll get her clear of the zone. You two handle the big guy."
The Blacksmith nodded once.
Behind them, Big Rick stirred.
The giant supervillain groaned as he pushed himself upright, rubble falling off his shoulders like pebbles. He reached up and wiped blood from his split lip, the only evidence Steel Alfredo had landed a solid hit.
The monster blinked once. Then cracked his neck. Then his knuckles.
Steel Alfredo adjusted the gauntlets on his fists, his breathing steady, eyes sharp.
"He tanked that punch like it was nothing," he muttered.
The Blacksmith stepped forward, unsheathing his twin swords with a soft metallic hiss. The blades shimmered faintly under the light of the burning wreckage.
"They said he was Level Four," he said, eyes fixed on Rick.
"He feels like a Level Three."
Steel Alfredo snorted. "Yeah. The kind of guy who punches through tanks and keeps walking."
The Blacksmith looked around, at the crushed cruisers, the fallen SWAT, the smashed chopper rotor embedded in a crumbled wall.
"He didn't just punch through a convoy," he said quietly. "He made a statement."
Big Rick straightened to his full height now, towering like a skyscraper of flesh and fury. His fists clenched. His eyes locked on the three heroes.
The Blacksmith stepped forward, swords in hand, stance steady.
"Let's make one of our own."
Steel Alfredo grinned. "Dibs on round two."
Big Rick let out a deep, guttural roar that shook the street, a sound like a freight train screaming through a tunnel. The shockwave rippled through the air, rattling windows.
The Blacksmith tightened his grip on his swords.
"Ready?" he asked, not looking away from the beast.
Steel Alfredo cracked his knuckles, a grin curling on his lips. "I was born ready."
Big Rick crouched low, legs coiling like a spring, again.
Then he launched.
A blur of brute force and fury, the giant shot forward, faster than he had moved all night. Asphalt cracked beneath him as he sprinted, and then....
He leapt.
Soaring high, easily clearing the height of a one-story building.
He came down like a meteor.
BOOM!
The ground erupted beneath the impact, a shockwave of shattered concrete and flying debris blasting out in all directions. The spot where The Blacksmith and Steel Alfredo had stood was now a crater, smoking, cracked, ruined.
But they were gone.
Just in time.
Reappearing ten feet away in twin blurs of speed and reflexes.
Chunks of rock pelted off their armor as they skidded to a stop.
"Okay…" Steel Alfredo said, brushing dust from his chest plate, "that would've turned us into pancake mix."
The Blacksmith's gaze never left Big Rick, who was already rising again, eyes blazing.
"Yeah," he muttered, swords glinting in the firelight. "He's not just strong. He's fast. And smart."
Steel Alfredo flexed his arms, a low growl in his throat. "Good. I like a challenge."
"Careful what you wish for," The Blacksmith said, his eyes narrowing. "We're in the deep end now."
Big Rick roared again.
And charged.
Big Rick charged, each step a thunderclap, pavement cracking beneath his feet.
The Blacksmith and Steel Alfredo split in opposite directions, two blurs of movement, steel and muscle flanking the beast.
"Now!" The Blacksmith shouted.
Steel Alfredo moved first, launching forward like a human wrecking ball. He closed the distance in a heartbeat, twisting into a brutal left hook that crashed into Big Rick's jaw with enough force to crumble brick.
CRACK!
Big Rick's head snapped sideways, but only slightly.
He slowly turned back to face Alfredo, barely fazed.
"Shit," Alfredo muttered, just before Big Rick's massive foot drove into his chest.
BOOM.
The kick launched Alfredo like a ragdoll, flipping end over end through the air. He slammed into a street lamp...metal groaning as it bent on impact, then crashed through the second-story wall of an office building, disappearing in a cloud of smoke and broken glass.
The Blacksmith was already in motion, blades drawn, feet skimming across the broken pavement. He slashed once,twice....striking Big Rick's ribs, then backpedaling to dodge a swing.
Metal sang.
The blades connected. Sparks flew.
But the cuts were shallow. Too shallow.
Big Rick growled. He spun fast...faster than he should be able to, and swiped at The Blacksmith with a backhand the size of a car door.
The Blacksmith ducked under it, just barely, feeling the wind off the swing whip past his head.
He rolled, came up behind Big Rick, and slashed again...this time aiming for the back of the knee.
Still not deep enough.
"What the hell is this guy made of?" he spat, retreating as Big Rick turned again, relentless.
Big Rick lunged, fists pounding the ground where The Blacksmith had stood a second before. The concrete exploded, smoke rising around him like a volcano ready to erupt.
From the building wreckage, Steel Alfredo staggered back out, coughing, limping, blood trailing from his mouth.
"I hit him with everything," he growled. "Didn't do a damn thing."
The Blacksmith circled to his side, eyes never leaving Big Rick.
"He's too dense," he said. "Armor, skin, muscle....doesn't matter. We're not cutting it."
Big Rick stepped forward again.
No pause. No fatigue. Just rage.
Just then, Froststorm dropped from above, landing between them in a crouch. Ice hissed at her fingertips. Her white eyes glowed.
"You boys done playing?"
"Not even close," The Blacksmith said, blades ready again.
"Good," she said coldly. "Because I brought the cold front."
Froststorm narrowed her eyes, studying the mountain of muscle in front of them... Big Rick, standing tall like a walking apocalypse. She glanced at Steel Alfredo, who was still wiping blood from his mouth.
"If that hit did that to you," she said, voice tight, "then if I take one punch from him... I'm paste on the pavement."
"Then stay outta the ring and play nurse to the wounded," Steel Alfredo muttered, still panting.
Froststorm raised an eyebrow. "I'm not a power-type like you two, true. But I'm not here to babysit either. I'll keep him busy from range, slow him down, freeze his movements. Just make sure he doesn't get close."
The Blacksmith stepped beside her, smirking. "Don't worry. I'm not a fan of gender-based beatdowns. He won't lay a finger on you."
Steel Alfredo snorted, spitting red onto the cracked pavement. "Watch me, Samurai. I'm putting this oversized trash bag to sleep... just like I did to Red Ray."
The Blacksmith chuckled. "The little ambush you pulled on Ray was a party trick. This time? It's my blades that'll write the final chapter."
Froststorm glanced between them and gave a small smile. Rivalry. That was good. It would push them beyond their limits.
"Alright, boys," she said, stepping forward. "Playtime's over. We're not winning this unless we go all out."
The temperature dropped fast.
The air shimmered with frost.
Ice snaked up her boots, then her legs, smooth, elegant, armor-like. A crystalline suit formed over her body, piece by piece, sculpted in sharp, angular plates of white-blue. A spiked crown of frost formed over her head, and a translucent cape of snowflakes trailed behind her like a storm in motion. Her eyes glowed white, breath curling like mist.
"This is Zero degrees mode," she said, her voice layered with power. "He comes near me, he freezes."
Steel Alfredo cracked his neck, then spread his arms. The air around him rippled like heat off metal. His skin darkened as steel surged upward from his boots, crawling over his body in thick, overlapping plates. His shoulders widened. His gauntlets thickened. His face disappeared behind a heavy, angular helmet with burning red eyes.
He slammed his fists together. The clang echoed like thunder.
"Full Metal Mode, baby. Round two starts now."
The Blacksmith watched, his swords humming in his hands, eyes gleaming with interest.
"You got any flashy tricks, Samurai?" Steel Alfredo asked with a smirk.
The Blacksmith closed his eyes...then smiled.
"Not yet."
He raised his blades, stance shifting.
"But let's find out together."