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Chapter 11 by micdan282 micdan282

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Depths

Nightingale vaulted onto the bridge, boots skidding against the concrete as she landed hard. Her breath came in ragged gasps, lungs burning from the chase. The city lights shimmered on the river below, but there was no time to take in the view.

He was coming.

A metallic shriek tore through the air—then a car hurled toward her like a missile. She barely dove out of the way, rolling to the edge of the bridge just as the vehicle crashed behind her, crumpling into twisted metal.

Rogue Knight emerged through the wreckage like a tank, his nanotech armor gleaming, seamless, alive. But beneath all that tech was still the same man.

Predictable.

Nightingale didn’t hesitate. She flipped backward over the railing and fired her grappling hook mid-air, the line catching the under-structure below.

Rogue Knight lunged to follow—but his momentum worked against him. He slammed through the guardrail with a roar and plunged straight into the dark, freezing river below.

Nightingale climbed back up to the bridge, crouched low, watching.

The metal behemoth thrashed in the water, struggling to stay afloat—but the armor was too heavy. It dragged him under like an anchor. For a long moment, there was nothing but silence and rippling black water.

She didn’t celebrate.

She waited.

Then—just as expected—the surface broke with a hiss of steam. A ripple of silver shimmered across his body as the nanotech began to retract, slithering off his limbs like liquid snakes, pulling itself back into a reinforced belt at his waist.

Now he looked different.

Smaller.

Human.

He clawed his way to the riverbank, soaked to the bone and gasping for breath, his sleek under-suit clinging to his frame. Before he could gather his bearings, Nightingale dropped from the shadows like a guillotine.

His head snapped up. “No—!”

Too late.

Her hand shot forward, snatching the belt from his waist in one clean motion. The nanobots inside flickered, still active but without command. Contained. Neutralized.

Before he could react, her fist slammed into his jaw.

He stumbled back, falling into the shallows with a splash.

“You fucking bitch!” he roared, scrambling to get up.

She was already on him.

Grabbing him by his shirt, she hauled him from the water and drove him into the dirt with brutal ****. Her fists rained down—once, twice, three times—until his body went limp, consciousness slipping away.

She stood over him, soaked and panting, heart thundering in her chest.

She had won.

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