The Last Day: The Shadow of the Knight | 09
Chapter 9 : The Hunt
Iron Knight Voice Log 2075
“People say justice is blind. They think that means it’s fair, impartial. But in a place like this, justice is a game, a rigged system that feeds on the desperate and corrupts the rest. When I put Doyle away, it was supposed to be the end of it. Another checkmark on a long list of scum I’ve dragged out of the shadows. But now he’s back. Free. Untouchable. And this time, he didn’t just cross a line—he trampled right over it, leaving the people I care about in the rubble. I don’t know who pulled the strings to get him out, but I’ll find out. One broken bone at a time.”
“Doyle is out there, and he’s going to learn the hard way that when you terrorize innocents, when you drag my people into your mess, there’s no hiding. Not from me. The hunt begins now.”
The Hunt Begins
The rooftop was cold beneath Iron Knight’s feet, the wind slicing through the city like a knife. From this height, the lights below flickered like fireflies, casting long shadows that danced with the rhythm of the metropolis. But Iron Knight wasn’t interested in the view. His comm crackled with a soft ping—a message coming through the secure chat line he shared with Whisper.
Whisper: I’ve got names. They’ll talk. They always do.
He typed back quickly, his armored fingers moving with precision.
SteelSentinel: Send the list.
Seconds later, five names appeared on his screen, each one marked with brief notes—known associates of Doyle, runners, informants, and one man who’d been part of a trafficking operation Iron Knight had dismantled months ago.
He clenched his jaw. It was time to go to work.
The first target was a low-level fixer known as Taz. A slick operator who made a living moving information and contraband through the underground. Iron Knight found him in the back room of a gambling den, surrounded by neon lights and cigarette smoke.
Taz barely had time to react before Iron Knight crashed through the door, shattering it off its hinges. He moved with the speed and precision of a machine, his armored hand closing around Taz’s collar and lifting him off the ground.
“Doyle. Where is he?” Iron Knight’s voice was a growl, low and dangerous.
Taz’s eyes bulged, his hands scrabbling uselessly at the gauntlet gripping him. “I-I don’t know! I haven’t seen him since—”
The air cracked as Iron Knight slammed him into the wall. “Try again.”
Blood trickled from Taz’s nose as he gasped for breath. “Wait, wait! I heard he’s been meeting with someone in the Old Industrial District. That’s all I know, I swear!”
Iron Knight’s grip tightened for a moment longer before he let go, watching as Taz crumpled to the floor. “Pray you’re not lying.”
He turned and disappeared into the night, leaving the fixer in a heap of broken fear.
Whisper: Heard from Taz?
SteelSentinel: He squealed. Old Industrial District. Who’s next?
Whisper: Try Kellen. He runs muscle for hire. Knows everyone with a job worth paying for.
Kellen was a brick wall of a man, his biceps straining against the sleeves of his shirt. Iron Knight found him in a dive bar, nursing a drink and surrounded by half a dozen goons. When Iron Knight walked in, every eye in the room turned, and Kellen smirked—a predator recognizing another of his kind.
“Brave of you to come here alone, Knight,” Kellen said, standing slowly.
“I’m not here to talk, Kellen.” Iron Knight moved fast—too fast. His fist connected with Kellen’s jaw, and the man staggered back. The goons charged, but they were no match. Iron Knight danced through them, his strikes precise, each blow landing with bone-crushing force.
Within moments, the room was a warzone of groaning bodies. Kellen, bloodied but not broken, tried to swing at him again. Iron Knight sidestepped, his gauntlet catching Kellen’s arm and twisting it painfully.
“Doyle,” he demanded, his voice colder than ice. “Where is he?”
Kellen spat blood, defiance burning in his eyes. “Go to hell.”
Iron Knight twisted harder. There was a sickening pop. “Wrong answer.”
“Alright, alright! He’s moving shipments through the East Docks. Drugs, weapons—he’s got buyers lined up. That’s all I know!”
Iron Knight released him, watching as Kellen dropped to his knees, clutching his arm. “Pray that’s enough.”
The hunt continued, each name on Whisper’s list leading Iron Knight deeper into the city's rotten core. He moved like a specter, appearing and disappearing with lethal precision. The people he targeted were hardened criminals, men and women who thrived on fear—but when the Iron Knight came for them, they broke. He left a trail of shattered bones and whispered confessions in his wake.
Whisper: Got word. Doyle’s been spotted at a private club near Midtown. High security.
SteelSentinel: Security doesn’t matter.
Iron Knight descended on the private club like a storm. Security cameras blinked and died as he moved through hallways, taking out guards with brutal efficiency. Each punch, each strike was calculated, delivered with a single purpose—finding Doyle.
He cornered a lieutenant in a plush lounge, the man’s terrified screams muffled by the music blaring through the club. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know!” the lieutenant pleaded. “Please!”
Iron Knight loomed over him, the light catching on the edge of his blade as it extended from his gauntlet. “You’re lying.”
The lieutenant’s face paled. “No, no, wait! I heard he’s setting up a deal at the old train yard. Tonight! That’s all I know!”
Iron Knight stepped back, his blade retracting with a metallic hiss. “You’d better hope you’re right.”
He disappeared into the shadows, leaving the man trembling on the ground.
Whisper: Train yard. Big move. Be ready.
SteelSentinel: I’m always ready.
The Hunt Continues
The city skyline was a jagged silhouette against the darkened sky, a thousand lights blinking below like distant stars. Wind howled across the rooftop, carrying with it the distant echoes of sirens and street noise. Iron Knight stood on the edge, his armored figure a dark shadow against the night. In his grasp, a man dangled precariously over the edge, his face pale and twisted with terror.
“Please!” the man screamed, his hands clawing at the armored gauntlet around his collar. “I don’t know anything!”
Iron Knight’s grip didn’t falter. He held the man effortlessly, his expression cold and unreadable behind the visor. “Funny,” he said, his voice low and cutting through the wind. “I keep hearing that.”
The man shook his head frantically, his feet kicking uselessly in the air. “I swear! I’m just a runner! I don’t know where he is—he doesn’t tell me things like that!”
“Wrong answer.” Iron Knight loosened his grip just enough for the man to slip an inch. The drop below was a sheer fall, dozens of stories down to cold, unforgiving pavement. The man let out a strangled cry, clutching desperately at Iron Knight’s arm.
“Wait! Wait! I heard something!” he babbled, his eyes wild. “Please, don’t drop me!”
Iron Knight’s grip tightened again, pulling the man back just enough to make eye contact. “Talk.”
“There’s a warehouse! South River docks! He’s been meeting people there—arms deals, shipments, I don’t know what exactly. But he’s been there!” The words tumbled out in a panicked rush, every syllable tinged with desperation.
Iron Knight stared at him for a long moment, the silence stretching unbearably. Then, without a word, he pulled the man back onto solid ground and dropped him unceremoniously on the rooftop. The man collapsed in a heap, gasping for breath, too afraid to move.
“Consider this your warning,” Iron Knight said, his voice like ice. “Next time, I won’t be so generous.”
With that, he stepped back into the shadows, leaving the man trembling in his wake.
The Hunt Ends
The South River docks were a maze of rusting steel and weathered wood, shrouded in the oily mist of the waterfront. Iron Knight moved like a shadow, his black armor blending seamlessly with the darkness, his eyes scanning for any sign of Vance Doyle. Every instinct told him this was the place—Whisper’s intel had never failed him before.
He stepped lightly, the dock creaking beneath his weight. The night was alive with the low murmur of waves, the distant creak of chains, and the hushed voices of armed guards. Doyle had come prepared.
“Doyle…” Iron Knight’s voice was a low growl in his comms, unheard by anyone but himself. “You thought you’d slip away again?”
He spotted them then—men guarding a floodlit shipping container. Doyle’s men. Iron Knight wasted no time, launching himself into the fray. His movements were a symphony of violence—silent and precise. Two guards fell before they even knew he was there, their weapons dismantled, their bodies crumpling into unconsciousness.
But as Iron Knight moved closer to his true target, he felt a shift in the air—a heavy pressure, a distortion. Instinct made him turn just in time to see a towering figure step from the shadows, eyes burning with TK energy, a cruel smile splitting his face.
“Come to play, Knight?” the enforcer taunted, his voice low and mocking. Without warning, he lashed out, telekinetic force crashing into Iron Knight like a battering ram. He was thrown back, slamming into a stack of metal crates, pain flaring through his ribs.
Iron Knight stood, his breath ragged. “You must be new. They didn’t tell you what happens when you get in my way.”
The enforcer grinned, stepping forward with a cocky swagger. “They didn’t have to.”
The fight exploded. The TK enforcer was raw power, a whirlwind of strength and speed that tested every bit of Iron Knight’s skill. He dodged crushing blows, deflected telekinetic bursts that cracked the concrete beneath them, and countered with swift, lethal strikes of his own. Sparks flew as metal met power, each clash reverberating through the dock.
The enforcer grabbed Iron Knight by the arm, lifting him effortlessly and hurling him through a wooden beam. The beam shattered, splinters flying. Iron Knight grunted, rolling to his feet just in time to avoid a telekinetic strike that cratered the ground where he’d been lying.
He couldn’t beat this guy with brute strength. He needed strategy.
Iron Knight triggered the smoke pellets in his gauntlet, filling the air with dense, blinding fog. He moved silently through the mist, using every ounce of his training. He struck from behind, then vanished. He attacked from the side, then disappeared. The enforcer swung wildly, his frustration growing.
“You coward!” the TK roared, unleashing a wave of energy that dispersed the smoke. “Face me!”
Iron Knight stepped into view, calm and deliberate. “Okay.”
The enforcer lunged, and Iron Knight sidestepped, grabbing a cable from the shattered dock and looping it around the enforcer’s arm. Before the TK could react, Iron Knight activated a surge of electricity through the cable. The enforcer convulsed, muscles seizing, eyes wide with pain.
Iron Knight didn’t let up. He twisted, using the enforcer’s momentum to hurl him toward the edge of the dock. The water loomed below, dark and cold.
The enforcer fought, thrashing against the cable’s grip. “You think this will stop me?”
“No.” Iron Knight’s voice was cold. “But this will.”
He drove his gauntlet into the enforcer’s jaw with a resounding crack, and the TK’s grip faltered. One final push, and the enforcer tumbled over the edge, crashing into the icy depths. The water swallowed him whole, his roar of defiance echoing for only a moment before being silenced.
Iron Knight turned, breathing hard. Doyle stood frozen, eyes wide with terror. He stumbled back, but there was nowhere to run.
“You’re done, Doyle,” Iron Knight said, advancing. “No more deals. No more escapes.”
Doyle dropped to his knees, shaking. “Please… please, you don’t understand! I can give you information, anything you want!”
Iron Knight grabbed him by the collar, pulling him to his feet. “You’re going to give me everything.”
With Doyle restrained, Iron Knight moved to the shipping container, his pulse pounding. He forced the doors open, revealing dozens of frightened faces. Men, women, children—all bound, all terrified. His breath caught when he saw her—Silas’s mother, pale but alive.
“You’re safe now,” he said, his voice softer than it had been in years.
He cut the bindings, gently lifting Silas’s mother into his arms. She clung to him weakly, tears streaming down her face. Iron Knight’s jaw clenched as he carried her from the container, Doyle’s pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears.
Back at the Safe House
The door creaked open, and Silas leapt to his feet, his heart pounding. He’d been pacing for what felt like hours, every minute stretching into eternity. When he saw Iron Knight, battered but standing, carrying his mother through the doorway, Silas’s knees nearly buckled.
“Mom!” he whispered, rushing forward.
Iron Knight set her down gently, stepping back to give them space. Silas dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around her as tears streamed down his face. She clung to him, her voice trembling but strong. “I’m here, baby. I’m here.”
Iron Knight watched them, a silent guardian, his own exhaustion evident in the slump of his shoulders. He turned away, giving them the privacy they deserved. Tonight was a victory, but the war was far from over.
As he walked into the shadows of the safe house, the weight of what was to come pressed down on him. He would be ready. Whatever it took.