The first sound Trung heard when he woke up was not a human voice, but the sound of metal scraping against metal a slow, steady rhythm, heavy as the breathing of a sleeping beast.
White light stabbed his eyes, blurring and then sharpening.
The steel ceiling was bright, with wires and tubes running around like artificial arteries.
A mixed scent rushed into his nose the smell of disinfectant mixed with burnt iron.
He tried to lift his arm, but couldn't move it. Instead, there was a soft "clack-clack" sound of mechanical joints. Trung looked down.
His left arm was no longer his own it was a metallic arm, black with a silver sheen, covered with a rough, unfinished layer of artificial skin.
A shiver ran down his spine. He tried to yell, but his throat was dry and raw.
"Who... who is there?!"
A figure approached from behind the frosted glass. A wrinkled white lab coat, silver hair, and eyes bright as heated metal.
"You're awake?" his voice was deep, warm, but contained hidden tension.
"Who are you... where is this?"
"K-12. The place where people abandon those who shouldn't exist. And I am Quốc. A man who owes you a life debt."
Trung tried to remember, his head aching as hundreds of images flashed back lights, explosions, Mai's face...
"An accident..." he whispered. "No, it wasn't an accident..."
Professor Quốc nodded slowly.
"No. It was an assassination attempt. But something, or someone, pulled you out of that fire."
Trung's eyes widened.
"You said... someone?"
"A strange signal, emanating from your body, activated the old rescue satellite system. Otherwise, no one would know you were alive."
He stepped closer, placing a burnt silver wristband on the table.
"I found this in your sleeve."
Three small, faint but clear characters were engraved on it VS-01.
"Vạn Sinh..." Trung murmured.
"Yes. And that means you were once on their list of original experiments."
The professor turned on a large projection screen. A data sequence appeared DNA, a neural map, and the symbol 'Trần Gene Line.'
"Do you know why they call you the Prime Sample (Mẫu Gốc)?"
"I am not an experiment."
"You are an experiment. But not theirs. Of history."
Trung stared, his voice shaking:
"Get straight to the point!"
Quốc slowly replied, "You carry genetic markers that overlap 87% with a gene sample recovered from an ancient relic a broken sword in the tomb of Trần Hưng Đạo."
The air in the room thickened. Trung was silent.
"It can't be..."
"Science doesn't lie. Your bloodline carries the memory of combat, reacting eight times faster than normal people. But you have never been activated."
"Activated?"
"By belief. Or by pain. What you just went through... was both."
Trung gripped the edge of the bed, his eyes blazing.
"And Mai? Where is she?"
The professor paused for a few seconds, then sighed.
"No body was found. But her biological signal still exists. Perhaps... she is another part of that experiment."
"Are you saying... they turned my wife into something like me?"
The professor looked directly at him, his eyes filled with sorrow:
"No. They turned her into something even more terrifying."
Trung clenched his fist, the metallic joints grinding.
His whole body trembled, not knowing whether from anger, or loss.
"Why did you save me...?"
"So you still have a chance to choose."
"Choose what?"
"Choose to stand up as a human or fall down as a machine."
Trung was silent. That sentence fell into his heart like a piece of molten metal. Outside, the rain began to fall. The rattling sound on the steel roof echoed, each beat like the sound of an ancient war drum returning from the distant past.
Professor Quốc lit a cigarette, smoke curling around his aging face:
"You know, Trần Trung, war never truly ends. It just changes form. In the past, we wielded swords. Now, we wield genes."
Trung struggled to stand up. With every movement, hundreds of artificial nerve endings twitched. He gritted his teeth, sweat and blood mingled.
"Lie down, you're not stable yet."
"I don't want to lie down. I've been lying down long enough."
The professor looked at him, his eyes suddenly lighting up, both worried and... respectful.
"You are exactly like him."
"Who?"
"The man whose bloodline you inherited the general who etched 'Sát Thát' onto his chest, and still smiled when his blood flowed. You are his image... but in a world that has forgotten loyalty."
Trung stood motionless, looking down at his chest.
The scar etching "SÁT THÁT" was still there, but surrounding it now was a loop of blue light, following a spiral pattern the artificial energy system implanted near his heart.
"Am I... still human?"
"If you can still ask that question, you are human."
Outside, the alarm siren blared. An assistant rushed in, shouting.
"Professor, they've found the location of K-12!"
Quốc quickly turned off the data board, turning to Trung:
"We don't have time. There's a vehicle in the basement. My men have taken your two children there."
Trung was stunned.
"My two children... are alive?"
"Yes. But if you don't leave immediately, they won't make it out of the city."
"What about you?"
"I'm staying."
"Why?"
"Because I must destroy their data hub. If it falls into Vạn Sinh's hands, everything will repeat."
Trung stepped forward, gripping his shoulder.
"If I survive... I will return."
"Don't promise." Quốc smiled, his voice hoarse. "You just need to live true to the two words you've etched. Not for hatred, but for dignity."
Trung turned away. The steel door burst open. Smoke poured in, bright red. In the distance, plasma guns exploded, the light flashing like lightning. He struggled to walk, each mechanical step emitting a heavy "thump thump" sound like the bronze drum from the earth's core.
"Dignity, huh..." he whispered, his voice choked. "Then I will uphold it until the end."
As Trung left the fiery corridor, Professor Quốc watched him, smiling. In the smoke, he opened the screen one last time. The data displayed the line:
"Prime Sample: Activation complete. Heartbeat synchronization: 100%."
Then he whispered, his voice almost wind:
"Go, man of the Vietnamese land. When they clone the soul, let you be the proof that the soul cannot be cloned."