Eternity Decay

THE PRICE OF A CHOICE

The key to bringing down a tower from below is to sever the supply to its foundation.

Six hours after the clinic raid, Axel stood within the Sub Sector 4 buffer district, a logistics transit zone where Eternity Corp stockpiled raw Time Core reserves before shipping them to the Upper District. The air here was heavy with the mist of liquid nitrogen coolant, and the perimeter was heavily fortified by high-voltage electric fencing. 29 Days, 12 Hours, 40 Minutes.

Axel adjusted the positioning of the tactical blade concealed beneath the sleeve of his black tactical frock coat. Beside him, Rhea was busy bypassing the outer control panel using a portable cyber-deck. The atmosphere between them remained suffocatingly tense ever since the truth at the clinic had unraveled that night. Rhea stole glances at him several times, her lips parting as if she wanted to say something, but Axel remained stone-faced, his gaze fixed straight ahead.

“Perimeter encryption bypassed,” Rhea whispered, wiping the sweat from her brow. “The logistics sector gate will remain open for exactly forty seconds. Axel... about Angga and the bank script, ”

“Save it for later,” Axel cut her off coldly. He adjusted the high collar of his tightly buttoned tactical coat. “Focus on your mission. The moment I’m inside, lock the gate from the outside and standby at the evacuation point.”

Before Rhea could argue, the steel door ahead hissed open. Axel moved like a dark shadow, slipping into a massive logistics hall filled with thousands of glass cylinders glowing with a silvery, liquefied time.

Axel’s plan was calculated with absolute precision: he hadn't come to steal lifespan for himself. He had come to detonate this sub-sector’s main distribution tank, cutting off the flow of lifespan to the Upper District, and forcing his father to scatter his forces.

Moving efficiently through the storage corridors, Axel neutralized two patrolling guards from behind with silent chokeholds, refusing to waste a single bullet. However, the moment he stepped into the main tank control room, his footsteps ground to a sudden halt.

In the center of the room, positioned directly beneath a single, harsh spotlight, sat a steel chair. Strapped to it was an emaciated old man, his entire body trembling violently.

“M-Marcus?” Axel gripped his weapon tighter, his eyes widening.

The old man raised his head with immense effort. His face was etched with deep wrinkles, and his hair had turned entirely snow-white. Axel knew him, Marcus was the former commander of the Liquidator division, the very mentor who had taught Axel everything about combat tactics and infiltration. He was the man Axel considered a surrogate father.

Strapped to Marcus’s chest was a high-tech automated extractor, relentlessly siphoning away his remaining lifespan at a agonizingly slow rate. The digital clock on Marcus’s wrist spun backward brutally: 00 Days, 00 Hours, 08 Minutes.

“Axel... you... shouldn’t have come here,” Marcus’s voice dragged out, raspy and broken.

A massive monitor on the control room wall suddenly flared to life. Adrian Vance’s face reappeared on the screen, bearing an expression of utter boredom.

“I told you, Axel. I know all your moves because I am the one who designed your patterns,” Adrian said from behind the glass. “You targeted this logistics tank to force me into negotiations. A highly tactical move, yet entirely predictable.”

“Let Marcus go, Adrian!” Axel snarled. His breath hitched as the searing pain of Chronos Decay flared in his chest, triggered by the surge of raw emotion.

“I am not holding him. You are holding him here,” Adrian countered cruelly. “Marcus is guilty of hiding the backup blueprints of your emergency system fifteen years ago. I offer you a deal: surrender yourself within these three minutes, and I will deactivate the extractor and restore his lifespan. If not... you will watch your beloved mentor die as a direct result of your own choice.”

Axel’s inner monologue spun into a chaotic frenzy. This was the cost of his rebellion. Every single time he attempted to make a move, Adrian would systematically crush the people he held dear. His father wasn't using bullets to break him; the sociopath was weaponizing guilt to shatter his mind.

“Axel... don’t,” Marcus coughed, spitting a trace of dark fluid from his mouth. “Don’t go back to that tower... if you surrender... he will use your mind to enslave this entire city forever. Destroy it... destroy the tank...” 00 Days, 00 Hours, 03 Minutes.

“Time is ticking, Axel,” Adrian said in a casual drawl, counting down the seconds with total indifference.

Axel stepped forward, his hands hovering over the emergency console. He could hack the extractor, but Adrian’s security protocols would require at least five minutes to breach, time Marcus simply did not have. The choice before him was binary: surrender and become a corporate slave once more, or forge ahead with his destruction at the cost of his mentor’s life. 00 Days, 00 Hours, 01 Minute.

“I’m sorry, Axel... finish this war,” Marcus whispered with the last shred of his strength.

The digital timer on Marcus’s wrist struck 00:00:00.

Instantly, the old man’s body seized. His skin withered, and the light in his eyes faded into absolute vacancy as the machine ripped away the final remnants of his consciousness. Marcus died right before Axel’s eyes, becoming yet another casualty of Eternity Corp’s tyranny.

Axel froze in place. The silence inside the room grew suffocating. On the monitor, Adrian merely let out a soft, dismissive grunt.

“A pity. You chose the hard way, my son.”

The monitor cut to black. Simultaneously, the security alarms across the entire logistics complex blared to life, followed by the heavy, rhythmic thud of hundreds of enforcement reinforcements closing in on the building.

Axel didn't move for several seconds. He lowered his head, his grip on his mother’s silver necklace inside his coat pocket tightening so fiercely that its sharp edges dug deep into his palm. The profound grief vanished from his expression, instantly replaced by a terrifying, absolute emotional void.

He had failed to save his mentor tonight. But this failure would not bring him to his knees. Instead, it tore away the very last shred of humanity he held for his father.

Axel turned around, unclipped a kinetic bomb from his tactical belt, and slapped it directly onto the core of the main logistics tank. He stared at the exit doors, which were already being peppered with warning laser fire.

“Rhea,” Axel spoke into his earpiece, his voice deathly calm, yet carrying a lethal chill. “Open the back gate. I’m carving my way out through a pile of corpses.”