The rain wasn't real—just another illusion made by the city's weather grid. Synthetic droplets shimmered under the low neon glow, falling with mathematical precision, programmed to simulate sorrow. Neo-Tokyo knew how to fake emotion. It had to—real feelings were too dangerous.
Kaito Myojin stood motionless beneath a jet-black umbrella, his crimson eyes fixed on the burial platform ahead. His father's casket hovered in the air, slowly descending into the mechanical grave below. Around him, mourners, dressed in sleek corporate black, their faces emotionless masks. Hollow suits with hollow souls.
He clenched his collar adjusting the discomfort. "Never even taught me how to tie a tie... but he left me a legacy trapped in secrets."
No one around him heard. No one cared. They were too busy pretending they'd known the man Haru Myojin—scientist, visionary, founder of Prometheon Industries. But Kaito knew better. His father had been more ghost than man. A phantom behind a lab glass, chasing perfection in neural networks and biomechanical constructs.
He never said goodbye. Never once looked up from his experiments to ask how his son was doing.
And yet... Kaito felt the weight of his absence like a collapsed star in his chest.
A synthetic violin played through the sky speakers, solemn and sterile. It made the silence worse.
◇
The limousine was chromed obsidian, polished, with black leather. Inside, Kaito sat rigid, drenched in leftover grief and anger. The city's skyline stretched past the tinted windows—spires of glass and steel clawing at a digital sky.
At the center Prometheon Tower pierced the clouds like a blade. The headquarters of his father's empire.
Inside, waiting in his usual tailored suit, stood Sakoji Ren, the company's VP and corporate vulture.
"Mr. Myojin," Sakoji said with that oil-slick voice, hands clasped behind his back. "Your father's passing was... unfortunate."
Kaito didn't sit. "You say that like it was expected."
Sakoji smiled faintly. "Brilliant men often make dangerous enemies. But Haru's legacy must continue. You, Kaito, are now the rightful heir to everything he left behind, including the locked sections of the Prometheon core archives."
Kaito squinted, suspicion creeping in. "So, you need me to unlock them? You think I'm just a key on legs?" "
You're so much more than that," Sakoji replied earnestly. "You carry his blood, his genetic legacy. You might be the only one capable of activating Project EXO-Ω."
The mention of that project sent a chill down Kaito's spine. "I'm not interested," he shot back, turning away. "I didn't ask for any of this. Just let me grieve my father's death."
Sakoji's smile faded instantly. "You can't just walk away, Kaito. This is about more than you. Your father's research has the power to change the world. With you... I could harness it."
Then came a sharp sting—a needle pricking his neck.
"Wha—!?" Kaito spun around, feeling dizzy. A blurry figure loomed behind him, clad in black gloves. And then—darkness enveloped him.
◇
Pain jolted him awake. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, their harsh glare scraping against his skull. His limbs were restrained, and his head throbbed painfully. He rested on cold steel, the air thick with the smell of antiseptic and machinery. "Where the hell am I?" he croaked, his voice barely a whisper. A mechanical voice echoed from above.
"Authorization confirmed. Initiating EXO-Ω transfer sequence." A panel in the wall shifted open, revealing a suit—sleek, glossy black latex metal laced with glowing teal veins. It pulsed as if it were alive. His heart raced. "—what is this?!" As if in response, the restraints fell away. The suit floated toward him, piece by piece, attaching itself to his limbs. A chill ran down his spine as it clicked into place like a metal exoskeleton.
"SYNCING WITH HOST: KAITO MYOJIN. VITALS STABLE. EMOTIONAL PROFILE—UNSTABLE."
Then—BOOM.
An explosion rocked the room. A shockwave slammed Kaito against the wall. Gunfire erupted. Shouts filled the air. A voice yelled, "Subject is alive! Eliminate on sight!"
"ENGAGING PROTECTIVE PROTOCOLS."
The EXO-Ω suit wrapped around him, powered in fury and pain. Energy coursed through his veins like fire made digital.
His fists cracked concrete.
His vision sharpened.
His mind split—half Kaito, half machine.
And then he moved—fast, faster than could think. Soldiers barely had time to scream. He was a shadow, a storm of violence. Walls shattered. Bullets to a halt.
He wasn't human anymore.
He was something else.
But deep inside, a voice remained—his own.
"You wanted me to be a weapon, Sakoji? You're going to regret that."