City: Altérion
Time: 20:01
Sector: Alone
In the Alone sector, where structures of all kinds illuminated the night, stood a building grander than all the rest. Towering at over a hundred stories, it was the tallest and most isolated fortress in the district. It was also the only one completely detached from any neighboring infrastructure, with a clear distance of over a hundred meters separating it from the surrounding cityscape. High at the top, glowing letters spelled out: DGBV – LINÉ GENERAL DIRECTORATE OF ARMORED UNITS.
Right by the facility, tucked behind a massive storage tank, a strange phenomenon occurred. Within the shadow of the tank, a black hand slowly materialized, followed shortly by a head emerging at the same fluid speed. Once he slipped entirely out of the shadows, the individual revealed himself to be Ghost.
Stepping fully onto the concrete, he exhaled sharply while looking back at the monolith:
« Ahh! Finally done. I hate going into that building. It brings back way too many bad memories. »
Behind him, a voice materialized from thin air:
« Neither do I, but... »
A figure began to condense as if woven from smoke. It was Meta, dressed in his official DH ARMY suit. He continued:
« It also helps us know them better so we don't fall blindly into their traps. »
Ghost sat on the edge of the rooftop, sighing as he brushed his long locks away from his face:
« Tsk, if you say so. But whatever, our mission is wrapped up. Let's head back and deliver our report. »
The young man stood up and walked toward the rear of the structure, with Meta following closely in his tracks. The duo descended from the building, slipping into an empty alleyway. Ensuring they were completely alone, they tapped the DHA emblem emblazoned on their chests. Instantly, the high-tech suits were absorbed back into the logos. In a flash, their armor vanished, leaving them in everyday civilian clothes. However, subtle details still betrayed them: the black X-shaped markings covering Meta's hands, and the fang-like patterns etched onto Ghost's.
The two accomplices pulled out a small packet of specialized biscuits, each taking a bite. Within seconds, the markings faded entirely from their skin while their crimson pupils reverted back to a normal hue.
Without missing a beat, they stepped out of the alleyway, blending effortlessly into the city.
The main thoroughfare was packed with crowds. People were talking and laughing, street vendors called out to customers from their storefronts, and on the asphalt, cars zipped by at moderate or completely reckless speeds. Moving amidst the throng were Meta and Ghost—though to the world, they were now just Logan and Rayan.
(Rayan = Ghost)
(Logan = Meta)
After a short walk, Meta asked a question to break the silence:
« Rayan, how is your sister doing? It's been a minute since she last came by to see you. »
« Oh, her… Ivan actually told her to stop visiting so frequently. »
« Why's that? », Logan asked, intrigued.
« He's worried someone might follow her. Personally, though, I'd rather have her with us twenty-four seven for her own safety », Rayan replied, burying his hands into his pockets. He added: « But I really hope she makes it to the team's upcoming celebration. »
Logan looked surprised by the news:
« What? Is the family anniversary coming up already? »
« Oh, you forgot already? In exactly thirty-one days, it's the squad's anniversary. How did you manage to let that slip your mind? »
« No, I didn't forget. No, it's just… I haven't seen the time fly. How long has it been exactly? »
Rayan pondered for a brief moment before answering:
« It's going to be two years. Two years since we've been walking this path together as a family. »
« Yeah, you're right. I still remember the exact day we met and founded the family. You wanted to be the leader so bad », Logan teased, pointing a finger at him.
Rayan let out a soft chuckle before firing back:
« Yeah, fair enough, I remember. I just couldn't bring myself to be led by a twenty-two-year-old kid. Let's be serious, Logan. Back then, I was twenty-four, and the rest of you were nineteen, twenty, or twenty-two. It only made sense for me to take charge. » He paused, his expression turning more grounded, before adding: « But man, after everything I've witnessed—like that final showdown against the Omega a year ago, or all the operations we've pulled off—I realized that the one most fit to lead us was always Ivan. »
Without warning, Logan elbowed him sharply in the shoulder, whispering fiercely:
« Are you crazy? Talking about that out loud in public… »
« Oh, my bad, my bad. »
Logan pulled out his smartphone and began typing a quick message:
« At least no one heard you. I'm going to text the others to let them know we've wrapped up our assignment, then I'll head over to Lame's sector to sweep for any intel they might have overlooked. »
Rayan nodded simply:
« Okay. »
Out on the street, a delivery van blasted past them with its stereo cranked to the maximum. As the vehicle flew directly in front of them, its occupants were nothing but an unreadable blur to the ordinary citizens on the sidewalk—but to Ghost, it was entirely different.
Ghost possessed a unique cognitive ability. His brain processed visual information at a rate far superior to the average human, which gave him both an extraordinary advantage and a constant burden: he perceived the entire world in perpetual, unceasing slow motion.
Because of this, he had more than enough time to clearly analyze the people inside the passing van. Sitting in the cabin was a man wearing an eye patch over his left eye. The woman beside him had jet-black hair, deep blue eyes, and bore a heavily pensive expression.
Upon locking eyes with them, Rayan's heart skipped a beat. He knew exactly who they were.
He froze dead in his tracks. Noticing that his partner had lagged behind, Logan stopped, turned around, and gestured with his arms open:
« Yo, Rayan, what's wrong? »
Rayan stood motionless in the middle of the crowded sidewalk without uttering a single word. His outward appearance remained calm, but internally, absolute panic had seized him. It was as if he had just looked upon ghosts. The face of the woman he had just glimpsed burned into his mind, triggering a sudden, agonizing memory: he saw a woman covered in severe wounds, her clothes completely torn to shreds. He had been holding her hand tight on top of a skyscraper while the entire building was engulfed in roaring flames. Her face was a blur in his memory, but her voice remained piercingly clear. She had whispered to him:
« I am so sorry, Ghost. »
The echo of that voice snapped him violently back to reality. Without waiting a single second longer, he bolted down the street in the direction the van had gone. He violently shoved Logan aside, screaming:
« Logan, don't let that car get away! »
Logan didn't even waste time asking questions. Seeking no explanations, he instantly shifted into high gear and followed his lead. The two lunged into a full sprint after the vehicle.
They rounded the intersection the van had taken. Rayan spotted it in the distance, but a massive obstacle stood in their way: hundreds of pedestrians blocked the path. They began weaving frantically through the crowd, inadvertently bumping into people along the way. Rayan collided heavily with a man in a tailored suit jacket. Enraged, the man spun around, yelling:
« Hey! Watch where you're go… »
The words died instantly in his throat the moment he met Rayan's gaze. Ghost's eyes were filled with pure, unadulterated hatred and rage. Terrified, the man backed down, stammering with a forced smile:
« Oh, uh, my bad, heh heh… »
Rayan tore his eyes away and kept driving forward. By the time they broke past the heavy crowd, the van had vanished from his line of sight. He scanned every corner of the crossroad frantically, until Logan pointed toward a path leading to the industrial docks.
« Over there, Rayan! »
Hearing this, Rayan accelerated down the path. He didn't even look before crossing the road, with Logan hot on his heels. Once Logan caught up to his side, he asked:
« Rayan, why are we chasing this specific van? »
« I'm not a hundred percent sure yet, but I saw Valkyrie and Nerot inside that cabin. »
Logan stared at him, utterly incredulous.
« No way, that's impossible! They've been dead since the battle against Wemba over a year ago! »
« Then you tell me what the odds are of two identical lookalikes of people we saw get liquidated showing up together in the exact same van? It's too perfectly aligned. »
Logan thought it over for a fraction of a second, realizing his partner might be onto something. Furthermore, a core directive of the DHA flashed in his mind: "It is strictly forbidden to question a senior operator in the middle of an active pursuit." He had no choice but to comply.
They finally arrived in front of an abandoned warehouse compound. The van was nowhere to be seen. Instead, rusted car wreckage was scattered all over the lot. They began moving forward with absolute stealth. Slipping behind the chassis of a dead vehicle, Ghost paused, instructing:
« Just to be safe, gear up. »
They tapped their chests twice, and their high-tech armor materialized back onto their bodies. In an instant, they were Ghost and Meta once more.
They continued their progression through the empty spaces until, eventually, muffled voices began to echo from within the facility.
Moving deeper into the vast complex, they advanced cautiously toward the main warehouse building. Ghost stopped, whispering through his comms:
« We're moving in. If they're just ordinary civilians and I made a mistake, we bypass them. Courteously. But if it's actually them… we take them down. »
« Roger that. »
They held their positions for a split second, then moved smoothly toward the entrance. The warehouse interior was brightly lit.
The moment they crossed the threshold, Ghost locked his eyes onto the figures assembled inside, and a cold shiver ran down his spine:
« Oh no… I was right. »
Looking up beside him, Meta went entirely rigid with fear. He recognized those faces all too well:
« Th-That's… That's impossible. »