"What's the status of 3018?" the man asked as they continued to walk down the corridor.
"He's ready," one of them replied. "His vitals and overall condition are perfect, and he has already mastered twenty-five martial arts in total. He's also very compatible with the Theoshaima Virus."
"Good."
Then suddenly, one of the men in white behind the man in front stopped abruptly, almost dropping the device he was holding, and said, "But unfortunately, there is one slight issue, sir."
The man in front halted mid-step. As soon as he stopped, everyone else almost staggered in surprise. His presence alone made them feel uneasy. He straightened his posture and looked at them before asking, "What kind of issue?"
"Well, it's about what happened to 3017." one of them said. "3018 shows no signs of discomfort—for now. That may change once he reaches Aetherhall."
"I'll take care of this issue myself."
"As you wish, sir."
The group continued forward through the corridor, its walls lined with dim white panels and embedded lights that emitted a steady hum. They stopped before a massive metal door reinforced with layered plating. One of the men stepped in front, entered a passcode on the illuminated panel, and pressed his palm against a scanner. A low mechanical sound followed as the door slid open, revealing a circular room.
At the center of the room stood a man beneath a ceiling light, its glow forming a sharp ring of illumination around him. Along the curved walls, multiple monitors and medical consoles were mounted at equal intervals, with their screens showing data, graphs, and fluctuating readings.
The man at the front raised his hand slightly, signaling his men. Several of them turned toward the monitors lining the sides of the room, scanning the vitals displayed across the screens. Numbers shifted, lines stabilized, and soft electronic beeps echoed briefly. After a moment, one of the men gave a short nod.
The man closed his eyes and walked toward the center of the room. When he reached the man standing beneath the light, he opened his eyes, formed a broad smile, and lowered himself onto one knee in front of him, saying,
"Aiden, the fate of our universe is in your hands. And I know we will succeed. I have always had faith in your capabilities."
"...I don't think I can do this. I don't know if I'm ready," Aiden whispered.
"This is not the time for doubt. Imagine the many lives you will save, the children that will have a bright future."
"What about my future?" His hands began to tremble, fingers curling slightly as he struggled to keep them steady. "No. I hate this. I'm going to die, right? Everyone in our universe will die because of me. I can't do this. I can't do this!"
The man stood up. He paused for a moment, then slowly removed the glove from his right hand.
SLAP!!
The sharp sound echoed across the circular room, briefly overpowering the hum of the machines. Aiden's head snapped to the side as he staggered half a step, the ceiling light casting a shifting shadow across the floor.
"You coward! Do you not realize how much I had to sacrifice for this? You incompetent fool! This is why you cannot reach your brother's level."
"And where is he now? He's dead. If he couldn't do it, then how can I? I hate this! I hate this! I hate this! All I wanted was to live a normal life!"
"That's enough! You will follow my order regardless."
He stood upright and slid the glove back onto his hand, adjusting it carefully. From his pocket, he took a small brush and ran it through his hair, smoothing it back into place. He drew in a long breath before speaking again. "How long until the teleportation?"
"An hour from now, sir," one of them replied. "We're still currently waiting for my men to deliver the virus to finalize the transportation."
"Then let's proceed as planned."
The men turned and exited the room one by one. Their footsteps faded down the corridor as the metal door slid shut, leaving the man at the center standing alone beneath the light.
"Um, sir, there's something I forgot to mention about this year's tournament. It is said that-"
BOOM
The explosion tore through the corridor, sending a shockwave through the walls and rattling the equipment.
...
...
BEEP BEEP BEEP
Red warning lights flashed along the ceiling as alarms blared throughout the facility.
"What is happening?!"
A loudspeaker crackled as its voice echoed sharply through the corridor.
"Warning! Warning! Code 3018 is escaping the facility! I repeat, Code 3018 is escaping the facility!"
"Find him now!"
---
"Gran Gran, I'll be going now," said the young man, with his bright skin, brownish-black hair, and dark eyes, as he took his grey overcoat jacket from the table beside the large mirror on the wall. "And also, make sure to take your medicine before going to bed."
"Yes, yes, I understand," his grandmother replied. "You should get going now. You don't want to be late for your work."
Although they were poor, Alfred and his grandmother could still manage three meals a day, ever since his mother died and his father left him for his mistress. His grandmother had looked after him since he was young. But after she was diagnosed with chronic kidney disease, Alfred had to drop out of college and take on various hustle jobs.
During the past three months, Alfred was hired as a night watcher at a local restaurant downtown while also working during the day at Remy's Burger Shop on Commonwealth Avenue. But Gran Gran knew something was off. Alfred would sometimes come home with bruises and bags of cash that he would secretly hide behind his bed. She believed Alfred had lied about his job and was instead doing illegal business to earn money, but she decided not to question him about it and hoped only for her grandson's safety.
They were currently living in an apartment in Greenwood City, on the twelfth floor of an aging concrete building, paying five thousand each month just to keep a roof over their heads. As Alfred made his way down the stairwell, he noticed a man dressed in black, his face hidden behind a mask, leaning against the wall to the left.
"Didn't think you'd show up," the man in black spoke. "Anyway, we got a new gig, a large delivery. The truck's parked a few blocks from here. Let's get going."
"A truck? What kind of gig did you get us into, Hank?" Alfred asked, clearly confused.
"No questions," Hank replied, then he placed his hand beneath his chin. "Not to mention how much the guy's paying us for this. I did hear them talking about the truck is full of some kind of virus; I'm not sure what they mean by it."
"Regardless, let's just finish this quickly. Gran Gran has been suspicious of me lately. I might actually try getting a real job this time."
"You know you can't get a proper job without a degree, right? So what-you're planning to go back to studying?"
"I've been saving some cash for over two years now. I think it's enough to finish my three remaining years."
"Suit yourself. You're a smartass after all. Remember that time you sold test answers for twenty bucks? Dude, you made so much money out of that."
"You mean the time we got into detention and almost lost my high school scholarship?"
"Ah, right-never mind."
Hank took a vehicle key from his pocket and tossed it to Alfred. "But I'm probably gonna stick with these gigs. Education and all that stuff just isn't my thing."
The two arrived at the parking location and immediately entered the large truck parked on the side. The street was empty at this time, with snowflakes falling as winter rain was coming.
"Shouldn't you be the one driving? I have no idea where the client's location is," Alfred asked.
"He said it's a facility near Mount Layna. Just take the road heading to Busan Bridge and go straight up."
The truck began to move forward.
"This heavy snow is making it harder for me to drive. Are you sure this is the right location?" Alfred asked.
"Dude, why are you being paranoid? It's just a delivery. We aren't doing anything illegal or something," Hank replied, brushing off Alfred's concern. "Yo, look at this. There are cigars down here."
"Hey, what are you doing? Don't light it inside."
"Come on, just one. It's not like it's going to make the truck explode or something."
"Cut that out, you're distracting me."
Alfred took the lit cigarette, but Hank immediately snatched it away, jolting it out and hiding it behind his back.
"Damn! You almost burned my hand. What is wrong with you?" Hank screamed, moving his hand up and down in frustration.
"It's not my fault. I already warned—"
...
SCREECH!
...
Alfred immediately pressed the brakes, and the truck was forced to a stop.
"What happened? Why did you stop?"
"I think... I think I saw a shadow on the road."
Suddenly, a tall figure appeared out of nowhere and immediately jumped in front of the truck. Its jump was so powerful that the vehicle shook slightly.
It was a half-naked man, pale-skinned, breathing heavily and ragged, his body coated in dark red blood, dripping in streaks from multiple wounds, as if he had been shot several times, yet he still chose to stand.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The mysterious man immediately dodged the bullets aiming at him. Some of the shots hit the truck, shattering the front glass into sharp, clear fragments.
"3018! Surrender now!"
Soldiers began to appear in front, holding guns and weapons. Above, the loud sound of drones filled the air as they flashed their lights on the truck below.
"Help... help me..." the man cried.
"Alfred, what should we do?"
"Alfred?"
...
...
"Let's go back."
He started the vehicle again, moving forward and forcing the soldiers in front to retreat quickly, some dodging to the side. Alfred then slammed the wheel, executing an immediate drift that sent the truck skidding sharply onto the back road. He pressed the pedal harder, the engine roaring as the truck accelerated into the narrow path.
The soldiers pursued them in their vehicles as the drone kept them within sight. The snowstorm had grown heavier, making it increasingly difficult to see the road ahead. 3018 held himself steady by the right-side door, careful not to lose his balance as the truck continued to accelerate.
"What are you doing? Don't tell me we are helping this crazy man!"
"Did you not see who is chasing us? They're heavily armed. Even if we refuse to help him, we are already involved because they saw us."
"What about the money? I need that cash right now. Just leave this guy in the snow. And they'll probably let us go."
Hank spoke in a rush, but Alfred was too focused on the road to even respond.
"That's it." Hank suddenly grabbed the steering wheel and yanked it sharply to the side. "We are turning back now!"
"Stop it or we will crash!" Alfred screamed. He kicked Hank in the stomach, forcing him back into his seat. Alfred immediately corrected the steering as the truck nearly plunged off a cliff.
Suddenly, 3018 smashed the window beside Hank and grabbed him by the neck, nearly choking him. With brute strength, he dragged Hank out of the truck. Hank hit the snow-covered ground as the vehicle sped away, leaving him behind.
Several soldiers stopped to check on the fallen Hank, then aimed their weapons at him, forcing him to remain still.
3018 climbed into the truck and sat calmly in the passenger seat. Alfred, though concerned about Hank, continued driving, realizing that the soldiers were still in pursuit.
"We're almost at the city," Alfred spoke, his voice steady, as if trying to reassure the wounded man.
"My… my name is 30—no… I'm Aiden. It's… nice to meet you, Mr…?"
"Name's Alfred. Alfred Grov. Nice to meet you too, though I wouldn't call this timing nice."
"Forgive me for dragging you into this. I swear I'll repay you someday, with all my heart."
"Let's survive this mess first," Alfred said. "I'm not even sure if we can outrun them."
Finally, the distant glow of the city was faintly visible through the heavy snowstorm.
…
…
"Deploy the missiles."
A man stood at the entrance of a building, issuing the command through his earpiece.
"But… sir, what about 3018?"
"I already have it under control."
…
One of the drones suddenly accelerated, closing in on the truck below. With a single press of the button—
BANG!
The missile hit the rear of the truck, causing a massive explosion. The vehicle flipped violently, tumbling end over end through the snow before exploding again.
Fire and debris scattered across the highway as the wreckage finally skidded to a halt.
...
...
...
...
Cough… cough… cough… "What happened?" Alfred lay on the ground, his body battered and scraped, bruises marring his left arm. He noticed he was oddly positioned, at a distance from the burning truck.
"My right eye… it hurts…"
Alfred immediately brought his hand to cover it, squinting as he tried to make sense of his surroundings through the swirling snow and chaos.
He saw Aiden lying on his back beside the wreckage and used his remaining strength to pull him out. Tragically, Aiden's legs had been severed, leaving only his torso intact.
Alfred vomited in disgust, yet when he saw Aiden still moving, he carefully repositioned him upright.
"I don't think I can hold on much longer," Aiden struggled to speak, blood spilling from his mouth with each word. "You have to go… they'll be here soon… they'll kill you."
"Damn it! Damn it! Why did this happen?" Alfred gripped Aiden's hand, desperate and unsure how to respond. He raked his fingers through his hair.
The soldiers finally caught up, immediately surrounding them and raising their weapons. Alfred looked down and realized Aiden had stopped moving.
With no other option, he slowly rose and raised his hands in surrender.
"Is this the end?"
…
Suddenly, a brilliant light engulfed Alfred, covering him entirely from head to toe.
A few seconds later, he vanished without a trace, leaving only his footprints in the snow.
"Sir… we have an issue."