Season-1: Echoes From Abyss
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Episode-2: 13 years later
Case No: 143
Subject:
Charlotte Henson
Situation:
Found in Zykox Secret Lab (California)
Thought to be a victim of a secret experiment.
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"I can't believe it—we finally got a case again after almost eight months. By the way, my mother… I mean Aunt Sienna—she doesn't know about this, right? Or did you tell her, Emma?"
The woman named Emma, well past fifty, sat down on the chair opposite him. She wore an ash-gray coat. In a slightly broken voice, she replied,
"We haven't told Mrs. Xovier anything. And we don't intend to. What matters is—are you willing to take the case?"
"Why wouldn't I be? I'll handle her—my mother. But my question is, why does this case file contain nothing except the case number, subject name, and situation? How am I supposed to know what my actual task is?"
"That," Emma said in the same fractured tone, "is your task—to understand what the real task is."
"Am I being tested?"
"No, Rex. We ourselves don't know much either. But the subject of this case—the girl named Charlotte—may be the victim of a covert experiment. Commander Jacob found her during his last mission, in a secret laboratory in California. She's currently under their custody. You'll get further details from James."
"So… may I leave now?"
"Yes."
The young man stood up. As he reached the door, Emma spoke again.
"Do you know why this case was assigned to you, Rex?"
He stopped, silent.
"Because it may be connected to Zone 007."
No reply came. The boy left.
But Emma could still guess—at least partially—what was going on inside his mind.
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A young man stepped out of a fifteen-story building. Despite the heat, he wore a black jacket over a full-sleeved shirt. His short hair was slightly unkempt. His black eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses.
As he walked, he pulled out a button phone and dialed.
"Hello, Rex. After a long time. What made you call?"
"New case. Emma said you'd have the details."
"So we can't meet instead of talking on the phone? Victoria Café. Seven in the evening?"
"Miss me, James?"
"Not that bad yet. But a question—are you really back on duty? Such good news."
"Yeah. Starting now."
"So?"
"So Ren Elion Xovier is back on duty."
"Seriously, why do you always make me sit in this café?"
"Why, don't you like it? The view's nice from here, James."
Rex spoke while sitting across from James at the window-side table.
"No, I don't like it. And listen—you can call my wife, your aunt, 'Mom' all you want. But you can't call me 'Dad.' Fine, don't. At least call me 'Uncle' instead of using my name."
"You're my colleague."
"Is this a workplace?"
"Not exactly. Anyway—three months of leave, all spent training at Alpha Academy. Now I've got a case. Not exactly a mission—more like working on a subject. Investigation. Who the girl is, what really happened. Commander Jacob will hand her over to us."
"A girl?"
"Yes. I'm heading there now. I came to tell you—be ready. I'll call if I need you."
"As you wish, Rex."
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"Seriously—did you actually hear what you're saying?"
The man standing in front of him looked terrified.
Commander Jacob continued,
"A whole ship enters American waters and vanishes without a trace—and none of you noticed? The girl on that ship, the crew—no trace of anyone?"
The scolded officer gathered some courage.
"We are extremely sorry, Commander Jacob. We're confused ourselves. But we're trying."
"Trying as if you're rescuing someone. Do you have any idea how important that girl was to us?"
"Which girl? Charlotte Henson?" a male voice came from behind.
"Rex?"
"Of course, Commander. James sent me."
"Sit."
Jacob dismissed the others and sat opposite Rex.
"I don't know how this happened. I've worked with the Elflex team for thirty-five years. Never heard anything this absurd. A ship disappears mid-route—and no trace. Very strange."
"I don't see why you're so tense," Rex said calmly. "What you described is impossible. There's something else going on.
Where exactly did contact with the ship break? Any nearby settlements?"
After a moment, the commander replied in a mechanical tone,
"At the very edge of America, there's a small landmass. Calling it an island wouldn't be accurate—it's barely connected to the mainland. There's a village there. Ashvale. Population around two to three thousand."
"Have you sent anyone there yet?"
"Not yet."
"Then arrange a patrol boat for me. I'll investigate personally. You won't need further assistance."
"Going alone?"
"Maybe I'll take James."
"Do as you see fit. Inform me if you find anything significant."
"If necessary. But since the case is mine, I'd prefer to handle it myself."
"All right. But if anything—"
"I'll leave now. Send the boat when the location's ready."
Rex left swiftly.
Commander Jacob smiled faintly. It was unclear whether the smile carried faith—or contempt.
In his mind appeared the image of a rain-soaked five-year-old boy standing outside a police station thirteen years ago.
Now he was twenty.
Time really does pass quickly.
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A boat sped across the waves. The sun had vanished from the western sky.
"How much farther, James?" Rex asked impatiently.
"Just a bit more—"
"I've heard that for the past hour," Rex snapped. "There's no network here. I can't even call my mom. She's been calling nonstop. I left without telling her. Couldn't even say we wouldn't be back tonight. She must be worried."
James stared at him silently, then said,
"I think you owe your mother some time. You're neglecting your life chasing duty."
Rex smirked dismissively—but said nothing.
Suddenly, an odd sound rippled through the water. Both men tensed.
"Rex, stay here. I'll check ahead," James said nervously.
Rex noticed the dark water. Even in the fading light, it was clear—something was directly beneath the boat. His instincts screamed danger.
A heavy splash struck the front of the boat.
"James! Are you there?" Rex shouted.
No response.
Rex drew his black pistol.
Then—a scream.
"James!"
Before Rex could reach him, something enormous landed on the boat. It capsized instantly.
Rex swam desperately. Surfacing briefly, he screamed James's name.
Almost immediately, something vine-like wrapped around him, dragging him downward. Rex didn't panic. He pulled the sharp knife from his waist and slashed wildly. The grip loosened. He broke free and swam with everything he had.
One minute. Two. Five. Ten.
Still no shore. His breath gave out.
Lights flickered in the distance.
His mother's face filled his vision.
His hand struck something solid.
Then—darkness.
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"Ren, happy birthday, dear. Your uncle will bring cake. He'll be here soon. And look at you—already asleep. Wake up. Ah—what's that sound?"
"Who are you? Philip?"
—
"Dad—"
Rex opened his eyes.
At first, he didn't know where he was. He coughed violently. Childhood memories surged again—unwanted, unbearable.
He steadied himself and observed his surroundings. Judging by the sky, it was past midnight. He stood slowly. The back of his head throbbed—he'd been injured. Darkness everywhere.
He stepped forward blindly.
Then—a sensation. Something behind him.
Knife in hand, he spun around.
In the moonlight—blurred but unmistakable—stood James.
Rex smiled. Then stopped.
Something felt wrong.
James's body began to change. Strange appendages tore through his skin. Slowly, grotesquely—he transformed into something monstrous.
Rex stepped back—then forward again. He wasn't one to run.
"James?" he called.
Silence.
Then James lunged.
Rex's mind fractured. He had no desire to harm his uncle—colleague or monster.
He dodged sideways, grabbed a stone, struck the creature. Tried to look again—but it attacked once more.
Indecision crushed him.
Was it truly James?
He gripped the knife.
A gunshot rang out.
The creature collapsed—shrinking back into a broken, lifeless James.
"Are you okay, Commander Rex?"
Rex turned sharply.
Four steps away—a human silhouette.
"Dorian?"
Fear flashed across the man's face.
"Commander—behind—"
Rex never got the chance to react.
A brutal blow struck his head from behind.
Darkness, again.
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A dim light flickered overhead. Voices surrounded him. The small room smelled stale. Breathing felt heavy.
Rex kept his eyes closed, assessing.
"His partner escaped. Idiot. We tried to save him—he jumped into death willingly."
The surroundings felt safe.
Rex opened his eyes calmly, sitting in the chair to which he was supposedly bound.
A muffled gasp spread across the room.
"Don't panic," someone said. "He might be normal."
"I am normal," Rex said evenly. "My name is Tom. I'm a police officer. Who are you?"
He never gave strangers his real name.
Silence.
An elderly man stepped forward, coughing lightly. A Mexican accent colored his words.
"Hello. I'm Mario Morrison, chief of Ashvale village. Since you're police, I'll explain. Last night, debris from a ship washed onto our shore. Some of our men went there and returned—"
His voice broke.
Rex understood.
"I came to verify the report," he lied smoothly. "Our forces will arrive soon. Before that—where is the man who was with me?"
"The one who died beside you? You knew him?"
James.
Rex replied without emotion.
"No. I meant the ship's captain—Dorian. He had a shotgun."
Someone snapped,
"Don't mention that idiot! Monsters everywhere! Only about forty-four of us are alive, hiding here. We tried to shelter you—but that Dorian ran. Probably dead."
That was enough.
"Thank you for your help," Rex said. "I'll return with assistance. For now—I need to find Dorian."
Before anyone could warn him or untie him, Rex stood up naturally—as if he'd never been restrained.
"Does anyone have my knife?"
No one spoke.
A young boy ran in, silently handed him the knife—and a shotgun.
Dorian's shotgun.
Rex thanked them once more and walked out.
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