New York City
Upper East Side
September 2054
The air inside Osiris Tower's penthouse was a sterile mix of climate-controlled perfection and silent opulence. Osiris Tower, the twenty-one-year-old son of the most powerful woman in the world, stood at the edge of the glass wall, staring down at the city below. The skyline burned with neon light, casting a ghostly glow over Osiris Tower's penthouse. Below, New York pulsed with artificial life—digital billboards flickered with corporate propaganda, and the hum of machinery filled the streets like a never-ending symphony.
"New York City," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "How beautiful indeed."
But beauty was just another façade, like everything else in his life.
Jackson's reflection stared back at him, framed by the cold blue lights of the metropolis. His sharp features, the trademark Osiris steel-grey eyes, and the permanent shadow of exhaustion under them. He wasn't just a man looking at the city; he was a prince staring at his kingdom—one he never asked for.
Then, the vibration in his pocket shattered the silence. A call.
With a flick of his fingers, he answered through his earpiece. "What's up?"
"Jackson," Elias said, his tone clipped, urgent. "We got an assignment. Straight from your mother."
Jackson exhaled, barely suppressing the bitterness that clawed at his throat. Of course, it was from her. His mother didn't call to check on him, didn't send birthday messages, but orders? Those always came through.
He turned away from the city, his hand clenching into a fist. "I'm listening."
The Pentagon – Tactical Command Center both US & Osiris Corporation
Richmond Hwy./VA 110 at I-395, Arlington County, Virginia, U.S.
September 2054
Jackson Osiris walked through the labyrinthine halls of The Pentagon, his boots clicking against the polished floors. Unlike the grand offices of Osiris Tower, this place was all function, no excess a monument to war, intelligence, and power. He passed armed military police, high-clearance officers, and digital security checkpoints, each layer reminding him that he wasn't on corporate turf anymore. The Pentagon wasn't just the nerve centre of U.S. defence it was where the world's most classified decisions were made.
And now, Osiris Corporation had a seat at the table.
Two Marines at a reinforced blast door stepped aside as an AI-driven biometric scanner verified his identity. A metallic voice chimed:
"Jackson Osiris, Level Five Clearance. Access granted."
The doors slid open, revealing the Strategic Operations Center (SOC).
Inside, holographic war tables projected live satellite feeds, cyber warfare experts monitored global threats, and military officials whispered over classified briefings. On a raised platform at the centre of it all stood Captain Elias Scott. Unlike the career bureaucrats in pressed uniforms, Elias was pure special operations battle-tested, hardened, and all business. He barely glanced up from the glowing hologram of a private airfield on the outskirts of Dubai.
"Clock's ticking, Osiris. Close the door."
Jackson stepped inside, the blast doors sealing shut with a quiet thunk.
Elias tapped a control pad, and the hologram zoomed in. A heat signature overlay revealed armed guards, a small convoy of vehicles, and a single high-value target marked in red.
"Dr. Adrian Mercer. Senior weapons scientist. Former Osiris R&D lead. He's attempting to defect selling classified hover-tech schematics to an unknown buyer."
Jackson exhaled through his nose. "And Mom wants this fucker dead?"
Elias nodded. "The Man in Black (U.S. government) wants this fucker dead too."
Jackson's eyes narrowed. A normal day in the office.
Elias continued. "Mercer has top-secret clearance on projects tied to both Osiris Corporation and the Pentagon. If he talks, it's not just our tech at risk, it's national security."
Jackson studied the holo-display. "Extraction or elimination?"
Elias didn't hesitate. "Both. If we can recover Mercer, great. If not, we neutralize him and erase the data."
Jackson flexed his fingers, cracking his knuckles. "Sounds like a cleanup job."
Elias straightened. "Bravo Team is prepped and waiting. Wheels up in twenty."
Jackson hesitated. "Why us?"
Elias met his gaze. "Because your mother and the Secretary of Defense requested us for this op and well, we haven't heard from the Alpha team in a while." A pause. "She wants you to prove yourself."
Jackson's jaw tightened. Of course, she did.
Above the Persian Gulf – Osiris VTOL Transport
Two Hours Later
The Osiris Osprey VTOL transport cut through the sky with near-silent precision, its advanced stealth plating ensuring they remained undetected. Inside the dimly lit cabin, Bravo Team prepared for the mission. Jackson sat in silence, securing his gear. Across from him, Isabelle "Elle" Favreau gave him a smirk as she checked her sidearm.
"Nervous, Osiris?" she teased.
Jackson adjusted his gloves. "Just focused."
Next to her, Gaz Brown let out a dry chuckle, his shotgun resting across his lap. "Nothing like a good old-fashioned smash-and-grab."
Captain Elias stood at the front, gripping the overhead rail as the aircraft trembled from turbulence. The real-time holographic drone feed displayed their target: a private airstrip hidden in the Dubai desert.
"All right, listen up," Elias said. "Mercer's buyer arrives in fifteen minutes. We don't know who they are, but we know they're not paying in cash. They want our technology, and we're not letting that happen."
He pointed to the display. "We're dropping in from 5,000 feet, HALO insertion. No sound, no lights. Once on the ground, we secure Mercer, scrub the data, and exfil before anyone knows we were there."
A soft chime in their earpieces signaled final approach.
Jackson's HUD visor flickered to life, feeding him combat telemetry, biometric readouts, and projected landing zones. Through the rear hatch, the desert glowed beneath them, the airstrip a constellation of moving headlights and floodlights.
The ramp lowered. Wind howled through the cabin.
Elias turned to Jackson. "Time to earn your name, Osiris."
Jackson clenched his jaw. Then he stepped forward and jumped.
The night swallowed him whole.
2054 HALO Jump – Infiltration Begins
The wind ripped past Jackson as he freefell through absolute darkness, his altimeter ticking down rapidly. Around him, the Bravo Team moved like ghosts, their suits absorbing sound and light. Dubai's city lights flickered in the distance, an ocean of neon against the desert's emptiness. Below, the airfield loomed—a grid of infrared-marked hostiles moving in rigid formations.
At 1,000 feet, Jackson engaged his silent-drop pack.
His descent slowed instantly, the specialized hover-thrust system dampening his impact. His boots hit the sand without a sound.
One by one, Bravo Team ghosted into position.
Jackson checked his HUD.
So far, so good.
Dubai – Osiris Corporation Black Site
0045 Hours
The facility was sterile, cold, and silent. The hum of security drones echoed down the corridors, their infrared sensors sweeping for intruders.
Jackson and Bravo Team moved like shadows, clearing the halls in coordinated formation.
Elias gestured toward a reinforced security door at the end of the hall. "That's our target."
Jackson motioned to Elle. "Can you override it?"
She stepped forward, hacking module on her wrist flashing as she breached the security locks.
"Give me a sec."
The door slid open with a hiss.
Inside, Dr. Adrian Mercer sat restrained to a chair, his face gaunt, eyes bloodshot. A neural suppressor collar was fastened around his neck, blocking any cybernetic enhancements.
Mercer looked up, his eyes widening—not in relief, but in fear.
Jackson stepped inside, lowering his weapon slightly. "Dr. Mercer."
Mercer shook his head, his voice hoarse. "You shouldn't be here."
Elias moved toward him. "We don't have time for games. Either you come with us, or you die here."
Mercer let out a bitter laugh. "That's exactly what she wants, isn't it?" His gaze locked onto Jackson. "Your mother."
Jackson's expression remained unreadable, but something cold twisted in his gut.
"I wasn't trying to sell anything," Mercer continued. "I was trying to expose the truth before they silenced me."
Jackson frowned. "What truth?"
Mercer took a slow breath.
"Project Acheron isn't just about enhanced soldiers. It's about something far worse."
Before Jackson could respond, the alarms blared.
Mercer's men was coming.
Jackson grabbed Mercer and pulled him up.
"Move."
"Osiris, we've got a problem," Elias's voice came through. "New heat signatures. They're not Mercer's men."
Jackson's stomach twisted.
He glanced at his HUD. New red markers appeared—military-grade soldiers, moving in tactical formations.
They weren't just some private buyers.
This was something else.
Something bigger.
Jackson gritted his teeth and adjusted his grip on his rifle.
"Copy," he murmured. "Bravo Team, stay sharp. We're not alone."
"Osiris, we've got a problem," Elias's voice came through.
Jackson froze.
Elias's voice was sharp. "New heat signatures. They're not Mercer's men."
Jackson's HUD adjusted—red markers began appearing.
A lot of them.
Then a second voice cut into the comms.
"Jackson."
His heart stopped.
The voice was calm, cold, and absolute.
His mother.
Roberta Osiris.
"You are to stand down," she said. "This is no longer your concern."
Jackson's stomach twisted.
Elias's voice came back. "Osiris Security. A whole strike team."
Jackson's grip tightened on his rifle. His mother wasn't here to retrieve Mercer.
She was here to erase him.
"New orders," Jackson whispered into his comm. "We're getting Mercer out—alive."
Gaz let out a whistle. "Well, shit."
Elias exhaled. "Jackson, think about this."
"I already have."
Jackson turned toward the compound.
Bravo Team fell in behind him.
Tonight, they weren't following orders.
Tonight, they were going rogue.