The funeral was on a Tuesday.
Gray sky, gray suits, gray faces all around, he stood next to his mom and watched them lower the coffin. People said things, nice things probably, he didn't really hear them because the minister was talking about God and peace and eternal rest while he tracked the five blips at the edge of his Scan.
'Even at Dad's funeral, I'm watching for aliens. This is my life now.'
His mom cried and he held her hand, when it was over they went home and ate casseroles from neighbors and nobody talked about anything real.
Three days passed before he could make himself go back to the basement.
The police tape was gone, investigation closed with equipment malfunction and tragic accident as the official cause. Nobody asked what Dr. Bet worked on for thirty years, nobody cared enough to dig, but he cared and he needed answers.
The lab was still wrecked with scorched walls, melted equipment, and that faint smoke smell that wouldn't go away. He stood in the doorway for a minute just looking at it, the place where his father spent more time than he ever spent with his family, the place where he died.
[Scanning environment...]
[Salvageable materials detected: 7]
[Hidden compartment detected: Eastern wall, behind storage unit]
'Of course there's a hidden compartment.'
He shoved aside the half-melted cabinet and found a panel in the wall barely visible under the soot, it took some work to pry open but eventually it gave. Inside was a stack of data drives and a folder of handwritten notes in his father's cramped script, and he sat down on the scorched floor to read them.
The notes went back thirty years.
The earliest entries were dated before he was born, before his parents even met. His father as a young man, working at some research lab that got attacked by unknown hostiles. The official report called it terrorism but these notes told a different story.
"They weren't human. Four arms. Scales. Weapons I'd never seen. Everyone else died. I survived because I hid."
More entries followed. His father tracking rumors, making contacts, finding other people who knew the truth. Black market dealers who traded alien artifacts, scientists silenced for asking wrong questions.
"Made contact with someone new. They call themselves The Benefactor. Access to technology I can barely comprehend. They want a partnership, my research in exchange for resources."
The Benefactor. The name kept appearing, always capitalized, never explained.
"The Benefactor says Earth isn't ready. Something's coming, bigger than territorial disputes or resource wars. The System is meant to be our answer. A way to create defenders who can fight back."
Defenders. Plural. He wasn't just making one System, he was trying to create an army.
The data drives were harder to access but the System eventually cracked them. Video logs, audio recordings, his father's voice exhausted and paranoid. Rell listened to them sitting in the destroyed lab with his back against a scorched wall.
"Subject 7 shows promising neural compatibility. Integration at 43%, up from 28% last week. Side effects include memory fragmentation and sensory overload, but we're making progress."
'He tested this on other people before me.'
The logs continued through Subjects 8 through 12, documenting failure rates and adjustment protocols and something called extraction procedures that sounded bad even without details.
"Subject 13 expired during Phase 3 integration. Cause of death: systemic rejection. Need to improve compatibility screening."
Expired. That was the word his father used for people dying in his experiments.
'What the hell were you, Dad?'
He kept reading.
"The System is nearly complete. Neural lattice integration at 94%. Absorption protocols functional. Store and Mission subsystems operational. Only remaining challenge is finding a compatible user."
"DNA analysis suggests familial compatibility is highest. If I don't survive, the System should bond with Rell. I've configured it to recognize his genetic signature."
So he planned this. Not the explosion maybe, but the outcome. The System passing to his son if something happened.
"I've been a terrible father. I know that. But this is bigger than birthdays and baseball games. The Benefactor showed me what's coming. If Earth isn't ready, nothing else matters."
Rell stared at the words for a long time. He couldn't forgive his father and maybe he never would, but he understood now. His dad wasn't absent because he didn't care, he was absent because he cared about something else more. Whether that was better or worse, he couldn't decide.
The last entry was dated one week before the explosion.
"They found me. After thirty years, they finally tracked me down. I've accelerated the timeline because the System isn't finished, but it's functional enough. If you're reading this, I'm already dead."
"Find The Benefactor. They have answers I couldn't get. And whatever you do, get strong. What's coming won't wait for you to be ready."
'What's coming?'
No answer. Just the silent hum of damaged equipment and five blips still sitting at the edge of his Scan.
He gathered the salvageable materials before heading upstairs.
[Items acquired:]
[Alien Alloy Fragment x3]
[Energy Cell x1]
[Data Core x1]
[Prototype Weapon: Plasma Cutter (Low Grade)]
The cutter was the real find. A handheld tool his father apparently modified, heavy and cylindrical with buttons that had no English labels.
[Plasma Cutter (Low Grade)]
[Type: Short-range cutting tool]
[Damage: Moderate]
[Charges: 10/10]
[Notes: Effective against armored targets]
Better than a kitchen knife.
He tucked it into his jacket and climbed the stairs, leaving the lab and all its secrets behind him. The Benefactor, whatever was coming, his father's experiments, those were problems for later. Right now five hunters were out there, the quest timer was still running, and he finally had a real weapon.
[Hidden Quest: Eliminate all Tech Hunters in the city]
[Progress: 2/7]
[Reward: 500 XP, Rare Skill]