The rotors thudded overhead in a steady rhythm that sank into Ryker’s bones.The chopper cut through the clouds, metal humming beneath his boots, the cabin lit dimly by the glow of the interface screens lining the walls. Across from him, Henry lounged back in his seat, one leg stretched out, fingers drumming idly against the armrest.“You’re unusually quiet,” Henry said. “I don't think that's a good sign.”Ryker didn’t answer.He swiped the tablet dark and leaned his head back, eyes closing against the steady pulse of the rotors. The noise faded into something distant, like waves crashing far away.The memory came uninvited.His mother’s voice, tired but warm, calling his name from the kitchen. His sister sitting cross-legged on the floor, braiding scraps of string together and declaring it a crown. The cramped living room. The cracked walls. The laughter that had filled it anyway.They had been happy. It hit him hard enough to make his chest ache.Then the system screamed.WARNING.

“There’s no way I’m leaving without you,” Ryker's voice thundered enough to rattle ears.Henry lay on the floor where he had fallen, one hand pressed uselessly against the metal band locked around his neck. The green light pulsed steadily.“Ryker,” Henry said, low. “Don’t be—”Ryker closed his eyes.The noise faded. The alarms, the shouting, the scrape of boots against concrete all dulled as his focus narrowed inward. He took a slow breath, felt it settle, and when he opened his eyes again, the system unfolded across his vision.Data scrolled clean and sharp.Armory access opened with a silent confirmation.Ryker filtered fast. Then he stopped.SHORT SWORD.He selected it without hesitation.Metal formed in his hand, solid and balanced, the weight familiar as it settled into his grip. He rolled his wrist once, feeling the edge align with his movement.Across the room, one of the men laughed.He had a long knife scar cutting from the corner of his mouth toward his ear, the skin pulled

Ryker barely had time to turn before the man’s voice carried down the corridor, smooth and faintly impressed.“I didn’t think you’d be able to defeat my precious work.”Ryker stopped.The man with the scar stood a few paces away, hands folded behind his back, posture relaxed as if he were inspecting equipment rather than standing over the remains of a dismantled weapon. His eyes lingered briefly on his subject, then lifted to Ryker’s face.“But now that I’ve caught you,” the man went on, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “I’ll configure you to be my loyal dog.”Ryker said nothing. His chest rose and fell steadily, his senses still sharpened from the fight. “Since we’ve not been formally introduced,” the man said, inclining his head slightly, “I’m Dr. Stark Wilson.”The name settled into the air.At the same moment, Ryker’s system flashed fully into view.STATUS: STABLEMETA-NEUTRALIZATION: PARTIAL FAILUREHis eyes flicked briefly to the notification, then back to Stark. The

Dr. Clark looked up from behind his desk the moment Ryker stepped into the office, and a polished smile spread across his face as if they were partners instead of captor and weapon.“Welcome back,” Dr. Clark said smoothly. “I trust the mission went as expected.”Ryker did not respond. He stood there with his usual unreadable expression, hands at his sides, waiting for the real reason he had been summoned.Dr. Clark lifted a check from the desk and extended it across to him. “Here is your paycheck for the month,” he continued. “You’ve been efficient.”Ryker took the check without examining the amount written on it and turned toward the door. To him, money meant nothing in this building. It was just another chain disguised as a reward.He was a step away from exiting the doorway when Dr. Clark’s voice came behind him.“Aren’t you even going to ask about your sister?”Ryker stopped instantly. His back remained turned for a second before he slowly faced the desk again, his eyes sharpenin