The Price Of A Sacrifice

New Identity

Adrian leapt out through the shattered glass window, landing smoothly on the asphalt of the underground parking lot. He moved quickly toward the back gate, dodging the sweep of patrol lights that were beginning to flood the hospital’s front lawn.

That night, the world felt different to Adrian. He no longer felt the cold, no longer felt fear. The void in his chest provided a terrifying tranquility. He slipped through narrow alleys, moving away from the city center toward a neglected industrial district.

A few hours later, as dawn began to peek over the eastern horizon, Adrian stood atop a crumbling, half-collapsed old building. The sharp morning wind played with his messy strands of hair.

[ STATUS: ESCAPE SUCCESSFUL. ]

[ ALTAR ENERGY: 45%. REST RECOMMENDED. ]

Adrian stared at the blue folder in his hand, the one he had stolen from beside his bed the folder that labeled him as Subject B-02. With a slow movement, he tore the papers into small pieces, letting them scatter in the wind.

"That identity is useless now," Adrian whispered.

He looked down at the city lights that were starting to dim. Somewhere out there, in the luxury of the Durnevra mansion, his family was likely waking up with a sense of security. They had no idea that the foundation of their lives had just cracked.

"You stole organs from me to prolong Julian’s life," Adrian clenched his fist. "So I will steal the entire world from your hands."

He felt a strange pull in his head. A memory fragment of Elena kissing his forehead when he was a child suddenly surfaced, but it quickly faded into gray ash in his mind. He tried to recall that feeling of affection, but all that remained was cold calculation.

"A fair price," he muttered, realizing he could no longer cry even if he wanted to.

He turned around, putting his back to the rising sun. The orange light stretched his shadow across the concrete, making it look larger and darker than his actual body.

"Adrian Durnevra died on that operating table," he said with an air of absolute finality. "From this moment on, there is only The Architect."

Adrian’s footsteps echoed on the cracked concrete stairs as he moved away from the sunlight just peeking behind the skyscrapers. Below him, the Gray District awaited, a labyrinth of narrow alleys filled with exhaust fumes and the smell of rusting iron. This was a place where identities could be bought cheaply and people didn't ask questions about the past.

"One week," Adrian whispered to his own shadow. "One week to disappear, one week to build a foundation."

He stopped in front of a weathered wooden door on the fourth floor of a dilapidated apartment building. The lock was jammed, but with a shove from a shoulder that now felt far stronger than before, the door yielded with a sigh of surrender. The room inside held only a thin mattress without sheets, a wobbly wooden table, and a damp smell that choked the lungs.

"New identity?" he asked the empty air.

[ CONFIRMATION: FAKE IDENTITY 'ARIS' HAS BEEN ACTIVATED IN THE NATIONAL DATABASE. ]

The blue system screen appeared, illuminating the dim room. Adrian placed the used laptop he had bought on the black market onto the table. He sat down, staring at the empty screen. His body might have recovered miraculously, but he could feel a gnawing hunger beginning to twist his stomach. He reached for a piece of cheap bread he had bought on the street earlier.

"Why is this... so difficult?" Adrian took a bite of the bread. It was hard and tasteless. He needed capital. Hatred couldn't buy servers, and a grudge couldn't hire informants.

[ WARNING: ALTAR ENERGY RESERVES ARE DROPPING. ]

[ STATUS: FINANCIAL ZERO. PROBABILITY OF REVENGE FAILURE: 98.4%. ]

"Tell me," Adrian stared at the system screen with sharp eyes. "What do I have to sacrifice this time?"