"Sarah..., we can still turn back and leave, I…I am not ready," Jack reasoned with a pink-haired woman.

"I won't go back, Jack… Yoshida used us for far too long, it's the least we can do to redeem ourselves," Sarah replied, placing her hand on his in a comforting gesture as they looked at the massive blue reactor inside a company.

Jack's fingers hovered over the control panel, trembling, while Sarah squeezed his shoulder, her touch both reassuring and urgent.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. In Jack's mind, a vivid memory flashed:

Their daughter, barely five, giggled as she chased soap bubbles in the backyard. Their son, a toddler taking his first wobbly steps towards Jack's outstretched arms. Sarah, exhausted yet radiant, cradling their newborn, the hospital room bathed in the soft light of morning.

The images Melted away, leaving Jack with a hollow ache in his chest. He met Sarah's gaze, seeing his own conflict mirrored in her eyes.

"Jack," Sarah whispered, her voice cracking. "We can't... we can't go back now, can we?"

Jack swallowed hard. "God, Sarah, what are we doing? The kids..."

Sarah's grip on his shoulder tightened. "I know, I know. But if we don't... what kind of world will they grow up in? What Yoshida's doing, it's—"

A distant alarm blared, making them both jump, Jack's hand instinctively moving toward the panel.

"We're out of time," Sarah said, her words filled with determination and fear, "Jack, please."

With a shaky exhale, Jack activated the protocol, red warning lights bathed the lab in an eerie glow as alarms screamed to life throughout the facility.

"Nightfall initiated," 

A robotic voice announced. 

"Reactor destabilization in progress."

Sarah clutched Jack's hand. "We did it."

The lab door burst open.

Workers in white coats rushed in, faces panicked, "what have you done?!" Dr. Tanaka shouted, pushing past them to the control panel, Jack blocked the way, "What needed to be done. No more stolen lives, no more enslaved minds," the reactor's hum grew into a huge roar, Sarah tugged Jack's sleeve. "We should—"

A gunshot cracked through the air and Sarah's body convulsed, a red stain blossoming on her chest. She crumpled into Jack's arms, her eyes wide with shock.

"Sarah? Sarah!" Jack cradled her, his world narrowing to her fading gaze.

“I lov–.”

Yoshida stood in the doorway, gun raised, His tailored suit was dark perfect, his expression cold. 

"You disappoint me, Jack."

Jack looked up, Sarah's blood warm on his hands. "You monster," he spat. "All those people... their lives, their families..."

Yoshida's lip curled. "Progress demands sacrifice, You knew that when you joined Project Lazarus."

Guards poured into the room, weapons pointed at Jack, lab workers huddled in corners, eyes darting between the confrontation and the destabilizing reactor.

Yoshida holstered his gun and drew a glowing cybernetic blade, he stepped forward, grabbed Jack by the collar, and slammed his head against the floor, Jack's vision swam, the taste of blood filling his mouth.

"Shut. It. Down," Yoshida barked at the terrified lab techs.

He turned to a slim man in the corner. "Izawa, prepare my escape route, Now."

Izawa nodded, tapping at a wrist-mounted device. "Helicopter prepped and standing by, sir." Yoshida released Jack, straightening his jacket. "You have four minutes to stabilize that reactor, or we all burn, your choice."

Jack struggled to his knees, reaching for Sarah's lifeless hand. "Go to hell," he rasped.

Yoshida's lips twitched in a mirthless smile. "After you."

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He strode out, Izawa at his heels. The lab dissolved into chaos as scientists frantically worked to avert disaster.

"It's not responding!" Dr. Tanaka yelled, fingers flying over the controls.

"Two minutes to critical failure," the AI intoned.

Jack crawled to Sarah, cradling her body. He closed her eyes gently, whispering, "I'm sorry, my love. I'll see you soon."

Meanwhile, Yoshida reclined in the plush interior of his private helicopter, watching the panic of the techs on a tablet, sipping a glass of wine, expression numb.

"Sir," the pilot's voice crackled over the intercom. "We're at a safe distance."

Yoshida nodded, eyes never leaving the screen, "Excellent."

The tablet's display showed a blueprint of the facility, a red countdown ticking in the corner. 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...

A blinding flash erupted from the base of the towering skyscraper, shockwave rippling outward, shattering windows and tearing through lower floors. Half the building disintegrated, collapsing into a cloud of dust and debris.

Yoshida's grip tightened on his wine glass. With a snarl, he hurled it against the cabin wall, shattering it.

He leaned forward, eyes blazing as he watched his empire crumble.

The feed on Yoshida's tablet flickered, a holographic news anchor materialized, her face filled with concern.

"Yorishika tower has fallen, preliminary reports suggest a terrorist attack while a corporate helicopter was seen—"

Yoshida's finger swiped the broadcast away, the cabin sinking into silence.

"Izawa," Yoshida said, his voice barely audible through the ambient noise.

"Sir?"

"Data status."

Izawa's eyes glazed over, pupils dilating as he interfaced with unseen systems, after a moment, he blinked, refocusing on Yoshida, "Transfer initiated, sir. We're routing through seven proxies. The FNI won't be able to trace it."

"Estimated completion time?"

"Thirty-seven minutes, assuming no unexpected bandwidth throttling."

Yoshida's fingers drummed against the armrest, a rare moment of restlessness. "And Lazarus?"

"I've triggered the failsafes, by the time they sift through the rubble, there'll be nothing left but cooling slag."

He nodded, almost unnoticeable, "Good, we can't afford loose ends. Not with this."

The city sprawled below them, neon advertisements flickered with the pictures of the fallen tower like dying stars, their glow unable to penetrate the smoke that hung over the lower levels.

"Sir," the pilot's voice confirmed. "We're approaching the media district. Where would you like me to land down?" Yoshida leaned forward. "The Plaza. And tell security to clear a path, I don't want to wade through a sea of vultures."

"Understood, sir."

As the helicopter began its descent, Izawa cleared his throat. "Your statement, sir. How do you want to play this?"

Yoshida's eyes narrowed. "We stick to the script, Danaska takes the fall. It's time we settled that particular score."

"And if they push back?"

A cold smile flickered across Yoshida's face. "Let them, The court of public opinion is already in session."

The landing pad loomed below, a small clearing, as they touched down, Yoshida could see the crowd beyond the security cordon, a writhing mass of bodies and cameras.

"Ready, sir?" Izawa asked, hand poised over the door release.

Yoshida straightened his tie. "Always."

They stepped out into a noise of shouted questions and flashing lights

“Sir Yoshida, what do you have to say about the explosion?”

“How many people were working at that time?”

“What’s your message against the terrorists?”

Yoshida moved through it all with practiced ease, Izawa breaking the tide before him.

At the podium, Yoshida paused, surveying the crowd, the noise died down, anticipation thick in the air.

"Yorishika tower fell today," he began, his voice cutting through the silence, "not to chance. Not to negligence. But To Danaska Incorporated."

A ripple of shock ran through the assembled journalists. Yoshida continued, undeterred.

"They had the means. The motive. The opportunity, we have evidence linking them directly to this act of corporate terrorism." "Mr. Yoshida!" a voice called out. "What evidence? Can you elaborate?"

Yoshida's gaze locked onto the reporter. "All will be revealed in due time, for now, know this: Yorishika will not be cowed, we will rebuild. Stronger, more secure, This is not our end, but our rebirth."

As he stepped away from the podium, a flash of a gaze caught his eyes for a wink.

There, at the edge of the crowd, was a girl, a girl with pink hair. Her eyes, unnaturally red, bored into him with an intensity that made him stutter.

In her arms, she cradled an infant.

For a heartbeat, Yoshida felt something he hadn't experienced in years: Fear.

"Sir?" Izawa was at his elbow, concern etching his features. "Is everything alright?"

Yoshida blinked, and the apparition was gone, swallowed by the crowd as if she'd never existed.

"Sir?" Izawa pressed.

Yoshida's face hardened. "Sweep the crowd. Every face. Every name. I want to know who was here today."

"Of course, sir. Anything else?"

Yoshida paused, trying to organize the pieces.

"Sir?" Izawa prompted again.

"Yes," Yoshida said slowly. "There's something else, An old project I need you to look into, Something from before your time."

"What project, sir?"

Yoshida's eyes scanned the crowd one last time, searching for a glimpse of that impossible red. "Project Zellrid," he said finally. "I need everything we have on it, And Izawa?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Father doesn’t need to know. Understood?"

Izawa nodded, a flicker of unease crossing his face. "Understood, sir."