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Chapter 7 - Chapter 7

Beneath the blanket of fog, their reflections bending the lights of Estana until the skyline looked fractured—like the world itself had cracked and forgotten how to fit back together.

Angelina sat by her window, the pale glow of her phone washing her face in sterile white.

No message. No call. No reply.

Just silence.

Her thumb hovered over Adam's last text: "Trust me. Don't get involved."

That had been weeks ago.

She leaned her forehead against the glass, breath fogging a small patch of window. Her chest ached—an emptiness that gnawed from the inside. Government patrols had doubled in her district; every night, drones swept past her window—searching, scanning, listening.

She had told them.

She had told Commander Rayne exactly where to look.

And still, there had been no payment. No confirmation. No message.

"They said they'd help… they said—" she whispered, voice cracking.

The words fell apart in her throat. She curled into herself, trembling.

"What have I done…?"

Outside, the city lights pulsed indifferently, cold and hollow.

Across town, Chino stood in the broken shadow of the old research wing.

He had followed a faint energy signal—Adam's encryption pattern hidden deep in the city's grid, flickering like a dying heartbeat.

He slammed his fist against the reinforced door.

"Adam! You're in there, aren't you?!"

Static hissed through the intercom before a tired voice finally answered.

"Chino… go home."

"The hell I will!"

He struck the door again. "You think you can just shut me out after everything?"

The lock hissed. Metal grated. The door slid open.

Inside, half the lights were dead. The air reeked faintly of ozone, filled with the hum of overworked machinery.

Then Chino froze.

Across the room, seated on a cot beneath the flickering glow of a monitor, was Leventis.

His eyes were half-open. His chest rose and fell with slow, steady breaths.

Chino's mouth went dry. "…No. No way. You—you're dead."

Leventis turned his head, a faint, ghostlike smile forming. "Hey… Chino."

"You died," Chino stammered. "We saw it, Lev! You were gone!"

"I thought I was too," Leventis murmured. "But something… pulled me back."

Before Chino could speak again, footsteps echoed behind him.

Angelina stood frozen in the doorway, her breath catching the moment her eyes found Leventis.

"Leventis…" she whispered.

The air tightened between them. Guilt washed over her in a wave so strong it nearly knocked her to her knees.

Leventis didn't glare. He didn't rage. He simply looked at her with a quiet sorrow that hurt more than any accusation.

"You told them," he said softly.

Angelina's knees buckled; she clutched the doorframe. "I… I didn't mean—They said they'd help, they said—"

Her voice cracked into a broken sob. "They never paid me. They just—used me."

Adam turned sharply, voice tense with disbelief. "You what?"

"I thought it was just information!" she cried. "I didn't know they'd—"

"Stop," Leventis cut in, his tone suddenly firm. "It's done."

Silence fell heavy between them.

Chino looked from one to the other, fists trembling, his expression fracturing under the weight of it all.

"Adam," he muttered, "what the hell do we do now?"

Adam's gaze fell on Leventis—his face lit by the trembling blue of a failing monitor.

"We hide him," Adam said quietly. "For as long as it takes."

Leventis sat up, voice hoarse. "Adam, I need to go to my old house. There might be—"

Adam cut him off sharply. "Lev, that's a terrible idea. Security's tighter than ever. You'll get caught."

Chino slammed his hand against the wall. "Enough! How are you even here? We saw you die!"

"I don't have an answer—" Leventis began, but Angelina interrupted, her voice rising with raw emotion. "Why not?! You sound like you crawled out of a grave!"

Leventis' eyes flashed. "If I knew, you think I'd be here talking to the one who sold Adam out?"

The words hit harder than a blade. He exhaled deeply, forcing himself calm.

"Forget it," he muttered, grabbing Adam's jacket. "You mind?"

Adam only nodded, silent.

Leventis pulled the hood over his head and slipped into the night.

The streets were quiet, slick with rain.

Puddles mirrored the pale moon through the fog as Leventis walked with his head low, passing soldiers and civilians alike. To anyone watching, he was just another face in the crowd.

But his head began to throb.

Pain lanced behind his eyes—then, flashes: a cloaked figure… a man with glasses… the smell of smoke and burning stone.

He staggered, clutching his head. "W–what the hell…?"

He kept walking.

His home was little more than a ruin. Glass shards crunched beneath his shoes, the walls layered with dust and cobwebs.

Spiders clung to what used to be his training gear—his old gi, tattered but recognizable.

He moved carefully, past fallen frames and photographs of family and friends—some with Garrison, others with Commander Rayne. He didn't bother picking them up. The memories were already too broken.

He found his old duffel, wiped the dust away, and unzipped it—clean inside, untouched by time.

A faint smile touched his lips. "Well… that's something."

He folded his gi, slid it into the bag, and turned to leave—only to freeze when a soldier's voice cut through the silence.

"You there. This area's restricted. What are you doing here?"

Leventis kept his hood low. "Just leaving. Won't happen again."

The soldier squinted. "Turn around. Face scan."

Leventis hesitated, then complied—but the moment the scanner neared his face, he moved.

In one swift motion, he grabbed the soldier's arm, dragged him forward, and swept his legs, sending him crashing down. The scanner hit the ground, its screen cracking, flashing a single word before it died: STATUS: DECEASED.

The soldier's stunned gasp echoed as Leventis vanished into the fog.

By the time the report reached Commander Rayne, it was already too late: "Sir, unidentified male—status reads deceased. Last seen near the old academy wing."

Leventis returned to the lab near dawn, chest heaving. Chino and Angelina were gone.

"Adam," he said breathlessly, "we should lock down. Now."

Adam gave him a look, half relief, half frustration. "You got caught, didn't you?"

"That's none of your business," Leventis shot back.

"The hell it isn't!" Adam snapped. "I'm risking everything hiding you here. My job, my life—our lives."

Leventis sighed, exhausted. "Then let's just get some sleep. We'll figure it out in the morning."

He collapsed onto the cot, pulling the jacket tight around him.

Sleep came quickly—but brought no peace. His dreams were fire and bone, shadows screaming his name, visions of hell twisting into fragments of memory.

He awoke to the sound of pounding—then the crash of the door giving way.

"Open up!"

The lab flooded with soldiers. Commander Rayne stepped through, his presence cold and commanding. Behind him stood Garrison, eyes wide with disbelief.

Garrison froze. "How—how are you alive?"

Leventis sat up slowly, unbothered by the rifles trained on him. "Hello to you too, brother."

Rayne's eyes darkened. "Leventis. You're coming with us. You're at the center of an energy signature that matches no known record. We're running tests—now."

Their eyes met—Rayne's sharp and calculating, Leventis' distant and unreadable.

As they led him out in restraints, Adam stood motionless, helpless.

Outside, Angelina stood on the curb, pale and silent. A soldier slipped her a small envelope—a meager sum of credits for her information. She stared at it in her palm, tears pooling in her eyes, realizing it wasn't even enough to cover her rent.

Garrison said nothing. Neither did Rayne.

The lab at headquarters was a tomb of steel and light.

Leventis lay strapped to the diagnostics platform, cables feeding into his arms, chest, and temples. His expression was calm—resigned, almost serene.

"Begin the scan," Rayne ordered.

Blue light swept across Leventis' body, translating energy into raw data—until the readings began to fracture.

"Sir," a technician cried, "the scanners can't stabilize! The signature—it's reactive! It's rewriting the parameters as we read them!"

Leventis stirred. A dark glow rippled beneath his skin. The air vibrated. Lights flickered.

Rayne leaned closer to the glass. "Increase power," he said quietly. "Let's see what you really are."

The hum deepened into a roar. Monitors glitched. Data cascaded into chaos. The lab flooded with blinding light.

Leventis opened his eyes—dark, mystic, alive. For a heartbeat, something ancient and immeasurable stared out from behind them.

His pained screams echoed through every speaker, soft yet thunderous

Silence. The restraints smoked. The hum died.

When power flickered back on, Leventis was still there—calm, breathing, gaze steady through the glass.

Rayne stared back, the reflection of his own face splitting across the barrier. For a fleeting moment, he saw it—the same eyes, the same aura

He whispered, almost to himself, "No… it can't be…"

Garrison looked between them, horror and realization twisting his face.

"Commander… what is he?"

Rayne didn't answer.

Outside, rain tapped gently against the glass, each drop like a quiet reminder that something irreversible had just begun.

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