2026-01-05 07:36:57
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CHAPTER 16: Dead Men Don't Answer
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
CHAPTER 15: God's Hands
The man with the scar didn't wait for an answer.“So,” he said lightly, already turning away, “I’ll leave the room to you two.”The door slid shut behind him with a dull metallic sound that lingered longer than it should have. The silence that followed was heavier than before, thick enough that The big man moved.He stepped forward in slow, measured strides, boots heavy against the floor. There was no rush in him, no wasted motion, no visible anger. Just intent. Ryker straightened, brushing his side once where the earlier blow had landed. The pain was there, dull and persistent, but manageable. He took a step back, eyes tracking the man’s movements, cataloging distance and angle the way instinct demanded.That was when he noticed it.At first, it was subtle. A faint distortion at the edge of his hearing, like static caught between stations. It grew sharper as the man came closer, a constant, unnatural hum that did not belong to muscle or breath or blood. Ryker’s brow furrowed as he
CHAPTER 14: Red In His Eyes
“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
CHAPTER 13: Extraction Point
Ryker slowed his steps as they moved deeper into the hideout, his hand lifting slightly to signal Henry to stop. The corridor ahead was narrow, lit by a single strip of flickering white light that buzzed faintly overhead.“We do this quietly,” Ryker said without turning his head. “As quietly as possible.”Henry walked beside him, hands loose at his sides, expression relaxed in a way that never meant what it looked like. “You keep saying that.”“I mean it,” Ryker replied. “Your power lights up rooms like fireworks.”Henry hummed. “Funny. Last time I checked, you were the one who jumped out of a chopper without a parachute.”“That was necessary.”“So is this,” Henry said lightly.Ryker stopped and held up a hand.Ahead of them, the hallway opened into a wider stretch. Light spilled out unevenly from overhead fixtures. Voices drifted through. Laughter. The scrape of metal on concrete.Ryker leaned just enough to see.Four guards clustered around a makeshift table. Cards scattered across
CHAPTER 12: Missile Lock
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.
CHAPTER 11: Before The Next Assignment
Ryker stepped out of Dr. Clark’s office with the tablet still glowing in his hand.The door slid shut behind him with a soft mechanical hiss. He didn’t slow. His eyes skimmed the screen as he walked, the familiar layout of mission data scrolling beneath his thumb. Coordinates. Timelines. Clearance codes. The kind of information that never surprised him anymore.The corridor stretched ahead, long and quiet, polished to the point where the lights above reflected faintly off the floor. His footsteps echoed back at him, measured and controlled. He welcomed the silence, as it gave him space to think.“Ryker.”The voice hit him hard enough to stop him mid-step.Not because it was loud. Because it was familiar.His grip tightened around the tablet before he turned. His stomach twisted, sharp and immediate, the kind of reaction that came from old instincts he’d never managed to bury. He turned slowly, already knowing who he would see.Damon stood a few paces away. He looked exactly the same.
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