The alarm siren shrieked, red light bleeding across the corridor like blood flowing backward.
Trần Trung ran, not looking back. Below, the ground shook in waves steel walls collapsing, electrical wires sparking blue flames.
The smell of smoke, explosives, and burnt skin mixed together. He didn't know if he was running on willpower, or the instinct of one just resurrected from the dead. Behind him, Professor Quốc's voice came through the intercom, choppy with interference:
"Go, Trung! The autonomous vehicle is waiting for you on basement level 3. I... I will initiate self-destruct..."
Trung yelled:
"Don't do it! I can help you destroy the data!"
"No time! You have the two children!
Did you forget? Survival is the final mission of the one who remains!"
The signal cut off. A huge explosion echoed above, shaking the entire concrete structure. Orange light poured into the cracks in the door.
Trung rushed forward, slamming his hand onto the basement control panel. The iron door slid open, smoke and heat blasting his face. At the end of the passage was a silver car, small, but fitted with auxiliary reaction boosters.
In the rear cabin, Tùng and Lan were huddled together, eyes wide.
"Dad!!!" the two children screamed simultaneously.
Trung rushed over, holding them tight, feeling the real warmth of his children within his cold, steel arms. Lan sobbed, her voice choked:
"Dad... where's Mom?"
He trembled, squeezing her shoulder gently:
"Mom... is waiting for us to find her."
Tùng asked quietly, his voice broken:
"And the old doctor?"
"He stayed behind... for us."
Footsteps echoed from afar. Not one person. A squad. Ten, then fifteen black clad figures appeared, with reflective masks and energy guns raised.
"Let no one survive!" the voice was cold as steel.
Trung pushed his children into the car, closed the door, and switched to autonomous driving mode.
"Hold onto each other, don't open the door, understood?"
Lan burst into tears:
"What about you, Dad?"
"I'll be right behind you two."
The car door slammed shut. The reaction lights flared. The car roared, launching out of the underground tunnel, leaving behind thick white smoke. Trung turned around, facing the squad. One man stepped forward, his voice amplified through a loudspeaker:
"Prime Sample, your mission is over.
Leave the body. We will retain your soul as data."
He narrowed his eyes, giving a faint smile:
"You want my soul? Then you need to get a little closer."
Both sides charged into each other. Plasma bolts tore the air, exploding with a crackle like thunder. Trung lunged straight, his eyes glowing blue. His metal foot sparked fire, the power assist accelerating him he shot forward like an arrow. One man was hit directly by his knee, the joint snapping with a loud crack; another was slammed against the wall, his energy backpack exploding.
But the more he fought, the more enemies appeared.
He took a hit to the shoulder the metal shrapnel sparked, the smell of burning flesh rising. Trung gritted his teeth, punching the shooter hard in the chest, the man's armor deeply dented.
"You don't understand..." he roared. "What you are hunting is not me, but the soul of this whole nation!"
He spun around, grabbed an opponent's gun, and shot straight at the ceiling. The steel above shattered, falling down like fiery rain, blocking the pursuit path.
He retreated to the end of the corridor, his hand trembling, his breathing ragged. The energy circuit in his right leg flashed wildly, near overload. He gathered all his strength, rushed into the emergency lift bay, and hit the emergency open button. Outside, a violent rain hammered the roof of the old industrial area.
His children's car was speeding on the wet road, its red taillights cutting through the mist.
Trung ran out of the basement's auxiliary door, landing hard, his knee hitting the steel it hurt excruciatingly, but he managed to stand up. Behind him, three pursuit drones flew out, glowing bright red. Their targeting systems locked onto the energy signature within him.
"Damn it..." Trung hissed softly. "No one touches my kids again."
He ran, each step like thunder. A drone fired a plasma beam, cutting across the road, exploding a utility pole. Trung spun around, snatched a broken piece of iron, and threw it straight it pierced a drone, sparks flew, and the machine spun before exploding.
"Two left!"
He activated the acceleration mechanism in his right leg. The mechanical engine screamed. Trung shot across the abandoned railway tracks, crossing the junkyard. Blue sparks cut across the screen of rain like lightning dragons. The second drone closed in from behind.
Trung grabbed a rusty oil barrel nearby, flinging it hard. The drone's plasma beam hit it, and the barrel exploded entirely. The orange flame knocked him to the ground, but the drone was shattered. One left.
It circled high above, locking its target onto the center of his chest.
"Shoot..." he whispered. "I'll give you one last chance."
The drone fired. Trung ducked low, the bolt grazing his head, exploding an abandoned car behind him. He sprang up, grabbing a sharp iron bar, and launched it, it pierced straight through the drone just as it turned back.
It exploded, blue light tearing through the rain screen.
Trung fell, rolling a few times, his body aching, his machine joints sparking. He lay there, panting, looking up at the smoke-filled, thunderous sky. In that moment of silence, the sound of his children's car echoed from afar. Lan was crying, her tiny voice trembling through the communication device in his ear:
"Dad... don't leave us..."
He chuckled, a bitter, choked laugh, and pressed to reply:
"How could Dad leave... Hold onto your brother, and don't look back."
"Will Dad come home?"
"Yes... Dad will come home. Dad still owes you a morning without the sound of gunfire."
He activated the energy signal stealth mode, hiding himself under the old bridge. In the distance, the sound of helicopters sweeping the area. He held his breath, his eyes fixed on the wet ground. As the searchlights swept past, he whispered:
"Sát Thát... is not just about slaying invaders. It's about not bowing down, even when you're alone."
The sky gradually brightened. The rain softened, only a cold mist lingering. Trung stood up, his clothes torn, blood mixed with oil, but his gaze was as steady as steel. He stepped out of the shadow, looking towards the rising sun. In his pocket, the small chip fell out, rolling onto the wet ground. On the surface, the two silver words glistened: Vạn Sinh. On the back, a line of fine script, as if engraved by hand:
"If you want to find her... head West."
Trung picked it up, clenching it tightly in his hand, and quietly said:
"West? Fine... I will go. But when I arrive, you will know... what the soul of Vietnam truly is."
He turned away. The first sun of the new day emerged, shining through the mist, illuminating his scarred face and the blue light in his eyes.
In his chest, the mechanical heartbeat synchronized with his human heartbeat slow, strong, and unwavering.
From that day on, international news spread the word: "K-12 Base explodedall data missing."
But somewhere, in the poor neighborhoods of Saigon, people said they saw a man with a metal leg, torn clothes, silently buying a loaf of bread, then disappearing towards the West...
The people called him by an old name, but with a new meaning:
"The Last Sát Thát."