The lab was eerily silent.
The only sound was the faint hum of cooling machinery and the soft crackling of dying sparks from the destroyed experiment. The red emergency lights cast deep shadows across the wreckage, flickering as if the facility itself had just exhaled a dying breath.
Greg pushed himself upright with a groan. His ribs ached, and every muscle screamed in protest.
"Okay, show of hands," he muttered, voice hoarse, "who else feels like they got hit by a truck?"
Tempo, still sprawled on the ground, weakly raised a hand. "Truck? More like a high-speed train."
Cora didn’t respond. She was too busy scanning the experiment’s remains with her drone, her fingers flying across her screen as she analyzed the biometric data, cybernetic composition, and—
Her heart skipped a beat.
The energy signature… it wasn’t gone.
She didn’t notice Greg and Tempo staring at her until Greg finally spoke.
"Cora?"
She didn't look up.
"We need to leave," she said flatly.
Greg blinked. "Uh. Pretty sure we just won."
Cora turned the tablet toward them. The data on the screen showed pulsing red waves of energy… moving.
"It’s not over," she said, voice tight.
A low rumble echoed through the walls, the sound vibrating under their feet like a distant growl. The emergency lights flickered.
Greg’s smirk faded. "Okay. Not liking that."
Tempo squinted at the tablet, then at the shifting shadows around them. “Oh, come on. We just took that thing down—what else is left?”
A distorted metallic screech cut through the room.
And then…
A new voice.
Cold. Mechanized.
"Synchronization… complete."
A sudden pulse of red light surged through the experiment’s remains, making the shadows stretch unnaturally across the room. The air crackled with raw energy.
Tempo took a step back. “Okay, yeah—nope.”
Greg exhaled, flexing his fingers. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
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Deep in the control room, Sylvia leaned forward slightly, her sharp gaze locked on the screen.
The Syndicate officer at her side swallowed nervously. “Commander… should we proceed with Phase Two?”
Sylvia tapped a single finger against the console.
"No," she said, watching the chaos unfold. "Let’s see how they handle this."
The officer hesitated. "But the containment field is destabilizing—"
Sylvia barely acknowledged him. "Then send a retrieval unit."
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The officer’s brow furrowed. "To secure the remains?"
Sylvia’s smirk widened slightly.
"No," she said smoothly. "To secure the swordsman."
Her gaze flicked toward the monitor displaying Arden’s face.
"He’s too skilled to be a stray," she murmured.
The officer stiffened but nodded, quickly relaying orders. Sylvia leaned back in her chair, fingers interlocked.
Now, let’s see how deep his instincts run.
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Back at the battlefield, Arden was already moving.
His sword flashed, cutting through one of the still-active cybernetic limbs of the experiment’s twitching remains. Sparks scattered, the remains shuddering violently before collapsing again.
Greg exhaled. "Right. So, uh… we should be leaving, right?"
Arden didn’t look up. "Yes."
Tempo let out a dramatic sigh of relief. "Finally, someone with sense."
Cora’s expression remained unreadable as she finished her scans. “It was integrating with something else,” she murmured. "Like it was only part of a larger system."
Greg crossed his arms. "You mean like a warm-up act?"
Cora’s silence was answer enough.
Greg groaned. "Fantastic."
Arden sheathed his sword, his tone sharp. “You need to go. Now.”
Greg raised an eyebrow. He sure likes giving orders. "And what about you, sword guy?"
Arden’s eyes flickered toward him, unreadable. "I have unfinished business."
Greg scoffed. "Oh, right. Because leaving a collapsing Syndicate lab is just optional for you."
Arden didn’t answer. Instead, his head tilted slightly—he was listening for something.
Greg followed his gaze.
The walls.
The humming.
The Syndicate wasn’t done yet.
----------------------------------------
The sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the corridor. Heavy boots. Multiple.
Tempo tensed. “I don’t like that.”
A second later, the doors exploded inward.
A squad of Syndicate enforcers flooded the room, their armored exosuits gleaming under the emergency lights. Each of them armed.
Greg cracked his knuckles. “So much for an easy escape.”
Cora grabbed her drone and backed up. “We can’t take all of them.”
Tempo smirked. “Wanna bet?”
Arden exhaled sharply. “They’re not here to fight.”
The lead enforcer took a step forward, his visor glowing red. His voice was distorted through the helmet.
"Arden. By order of the Syndicate, you are to be taken alive."
The silence that followed was thick.
Greg blinked. “Huh. Well. That’s new.”
Arden’s expression darkened.
Tempo slowly pointed at him. “Uh… you wanna explain that before we get shot at?”
The enforcers raised their weapons.
Greg cracked his neck. “Or after. After works too.”
The first shot fired.
Arden moved before anyone else could react.
A sword materialized in his hands.
In a single motion, he deflected the incoming fire, twisting mid-air. His blade flashed—two enforcers went down instantly.
Greg and Tempo didn’t wait for instructions.
Tempo blurred into motion, striking from the side. Greg followed, adapting his attacks to compensate for his injuries.
Cora, positioned behind cover, controlled her drone with precision, disabling the Syndicate’s targeting systems.
The battle was fast, chaotic, brutal.
And in the middle of it—Arden stood like a storm.
But something was wrong.
Greg saw it in the way he moved. The efficiency was there, the power was there—but something else lurked underneath.
Something fractured.
And the enforcers were exploiting it.
Greg narrowed his eyes. What the hell are you hiding, swordsman?
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TO BE CONTINUED...
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