The Outcast: Michael Grey's Rise to the Top

Chapter Six: Death?

The gangsters spilled out of the warehouse like wolves unleashed, weapons drawn and eyes hungry for blood. Michael didn’t waste a second as he shut off the recorder, yanked out the memory card, and stuffed it into his pocket as he bolted.

His lungs burned as he ran, his heart hammering in his chest with wild, punishing force.

How big is this damn harbor?

He darted between buildings, scanning desperately for an escape route. Packs of gangsters roamed the docks like hunters, and there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that they’d kill him on sight.

As he rounded the corner of a storage unit, something pricked at the back of his neck. Instinct screamed.

He dove into a roll just as a volley of gunfire tore through the air behind him, shattering the wall where his head had been half a second ago.

Chunks of concrete rained down.

Michael hit the ground hard, scrambled up, and ran.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the looming shapes of massive shipping containers piled like sleeping giants near the water. He sprinted toward them, gunshots and angry shouts close behind. Weaving into the narrow spaces between metal walls, he pushed himself deeper into the maze, hoping the chaos would buy him time.

But then he realized with no small amount of terror that it was a dead end.

A sheer drop loomed ahead, the edge of the cliff disappearing into the dark waves below. He turned to backtrack, but the sharp crack of a gunshot rang out. Pain exploded in his lower back like fire.

Michael dropped to his knees with a choked cry, his hands clutching his abdomen as hot blood gushed between his fingers. He gasped, trying to stay upright, but the pain was blinding.

Through his hazy vision, he saw him.

Victor.

The bastard stood a few paces away, lowering his still-smoking gun. His smile was wide, wolfish. He walked slowly toward Michael, savoring every step like it was a victory march.

“Little Michael,” he sneered. “You never learn, do you? Always reaching above your station. Always chasing after things you were never meant to have.”

Michael coughed, blood staining his lips. Every breath was a fight. But he still managed to look up and glare at his cousin with defiance.

“Screw... you...”

Victor’s eyes glinted with amusement. He crouched and set the suitcase down between them.

“You know,” he said, unlocking the case, “I’ve always wondered if you’ve ever actually been happy. I mean... after what happened with your dad, getting disowned by Grandfather, ending up in this dump. Can’t be easy.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed. “Do you... ever... shut up...?”

Victor laughed and opened the suitcase. Inside sat a strange device—part syringe, part high-tech gadget. A large, clear cylinder housed a black liquid that pulsed with a faint, eerie glow.

“You don’t know what this is, do you?” Victor said, lifting the device with reverence. “This, cousin, is Risax. Not the kind you’ve heard rumors about. This one... this is the prototype. And it’s mine.”

Michael’s glare flicked from the cylinder to Victor’s face. Confusion joined the hatred burning in his chest.

Victor noticed and grinned. “You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you? Oh, right. I forgot. Your dad never told you anything, did he? Man. Your life’s even more tragic than I thought.”

“What the hell... is that stuff?” Michael managed, his voice ragged with pain but his mind was still working. Even now, he was searching for an opening.

Victor cradled the injector. “Risax is the key. I’m going to use this to change everything. I’ll take over Grandfather’s company, reshape the Grey family, and build something the world has never seen.”

He looked down at Michael, his smug smile turning cold.

“You? You’re just a problem that needs to disappear. You’ll die here like the useless dog you are.”

Michael’s mouth twisted into a bloody grin. “If you’re going to kill a dog... don’t get near its teeth.”

With a surge of strength that defied logic, he lashed out with a kick that struck Victor’s wrist, sending the gun skidding across the ground. Victor stumbled back with a shout. Michael lunged forward, pain screaming through his entire body, and ripped the device from Victor’s hand.

“No—!”

Gunfire rang out.

Two bullets slammed into Michael’s back just as he threw himself off the edge of the dock.

The last thing he heard before he hit the water was Victor’s furious scream.

The ocean closed around him, cold and deep. The impact knocked the breath from his lungs. Blood curled from his wounds in lazy crimson trails, mixing with the salt and silence. He drifted downward, vision blurring, lungs screaming.

He could feel it—the end.

Is this really it?

'All I’ve done... all I’ve survived... Will it just end here?'

His thoughts raced through images of his sister, his father. Ari’s medicine. His father’s tired eyes.

Who’s going to take care of them?

His chest clenched, but it wasn’t just from pain. Rage flared inside him—bright, hot, and desperate.

Victor... Grandfather... the entire damned Grey family.

They needed to pay.

No. That’s not enough.

They needed to fall.

His hand tightened around the injector. Somehow, through the darkness and pain, he saw the path forward—one clear, impossible choice.

No more hiding. No more scraping by. This time, he would fight back.

Michael popped the cap from the device, revealing three sharp, metallic injectors.

And then, without hesitation, he slammed it into his neck.

A burning surge rushed through his veins, hot and immediate.

His thoughts dimmed. His muscles relaxed. A strange calm washed over him as the world faded into black.

---

*************

[... Viable Host Detected ...]

[... Commencing System Integration ...]

[... Warning: Host’s Physical Condition Critical ...]

[... Initializing Emergency Body Modification Process ...]

[Objective: Resuscitate Host]

[Time Limit: 6 Hours, 30 Minutes, 45 Seconds]

[Success Reward: Full Integration with the Wargod System]

[Failure Penalty: Termination of Host Life]