Area-73 never forgave the weak.It devoured them.
Its factories roared like metal beasts, vomiting smoke into the sky. Its streets shook with machinery and drone patrols. Every alley breathed danger. Every rooftop hid a gun. In this district, silence had died decades ago.
But tonight, the shadows belonged to Zen Deskan.
Zen moved through the abandoned east-side warehouses like a ghost—silent, precise, unafraid. He had no powers. No gifts. Only instinct sharpened by a lifetime of survival and a reputation that made gangs whisper his name with caution.
Tonight's target:
The Mavelin Mafia Logistics Depot.
Inside—rumors said—was an "energy stone" pulled from a meteor crater. A fossil. A curse. A power source. No one agreed on the truth.
Avalon didn't care about names.Avalon cared about results.
And they wanted that stone.
Zen crouched behind a rusted container as two guards walked by.
"Boss says the stone hummed again," one whispered."I'm not touching it," the other muttered. "Things from the sky are bad luck. People disappear after handling that thing."
Zen smirked.Superstition made enemies slower.
When they turned the corner, he climbed the stacked crates, reached the depot roof, and slipped through a broken ventilation shaft.
Inside the warehouse, rows of weapons and crates cast dark shadows. Floodlights buzzed overhead. Zen landed behind a forklift and scanned the aisles.
There—In the center—A metal case leaking cold mist.
He approached it carefully.
Inside lay a black oval stone streaked with faint spirals. Not glowing. Not pulsing. Just waiting.
"Just a rock," Zen murmured.
He lifted it, slipped it into his bag—
CLICK.
A guard at the entrance yelled:
"HEY! Someone's here!"
Lights snapped on. Boots thundered. Guns clicked.
Zen ran.
Bullets tore through crates behind him. Sparks exploded. He dove behind pillars, rolled across the floor, and threw a smoke canister.
A thick cloud swallowed the room.
Zen sprinted through the fog, smashed open a side window, and leapt outside onto the metal platform.
Shouts followed.
"THE METEOR! HE TOOK IT!""SHOOT TO KILL!"
Zen jumped across rooftops, slid down a gravel slope, and disappeared into the backstreets.
Heart racing. Breath steady.Another night in Area-73.
THE DEAD END ALLEY — 27 MINUTES LATER
Zen reached his usual hiding spot behind the old water plant. No cameras. No witnesses. Just rust and silence.
He dropped the backpack onto the ground.
"Let's see why everyone's obsessed with you."
He unzipped the bag—
The stone quivered.
Once.
Twice.
A faint violet pulse glimmered beneath the fabric.
Zen zipped the bag shut immediately.
"No glowing. No weird shit. I don't do that."
He straightened, preparing to leave the bag for Avalon to retrieve.
But then—
The ground trembled.The air thickened.The shadows stretched as if pulled by invisible hands.
Zen froze.
A tear opened in mid-air.A jagged wound in reality.
From it came a sound that wasn't a roar or scream—Something older, hungrier, untouched by human imagination.
A creature dropped onto the pavement.
Bone-white skin.Cracked like old stone.Jaws splitting at impossible angles.Limbs twitching like broken machinery.
It smelled the stone.
It lunged.
Zen rolled aside, grabbed a rusted pipe, and struck with all his strength.
No effect.No blood.No pain.
It ONLY wanted the stone.
Zen cursed and backed away, shoulder bleeding.He knew he couldn't win.
Yet he refused to die like a rat in an alley.
He grabbed the bag and ran deeper into the dead end.
The creature shrieked—A sound that cracked the air itself.
Zen turned back, breath trembling.
He was about to make his final stand—
Time bent.
Not slowed.Not stopped.Bent.
A humanoid figure appeared behind the monster as if reality had folded around it.
Faceless.Silent.Wrapped in glitching static.
Zen's voice broke."What… are you…?"
The figure raised one hand.
Reality rippled.
The monster burst into dust.Instant. Silent. Final.
Zen collapsed to his knees, shaking uncontrollably.
The figure tilted its head, examining him without eyes.Zen felt something cold slide into his mind.Reading him.Judging him.
He whispered, "I'm hallucinating…"
The figure stepped closer.
Zen's heart stopped.
Then—
It vanished.
Like it had never been there.
The alley returned to silence.
Zen stared at the dust. At the glowing bag. At his trembling hands.
"I'm never touching that stone again…"
But fate had already touched him.
And Area-73 would never be the same