Isaac was awakened by a splash of icy water slamming against his body, drenching him to the bone. His muscles seized from the shock, his breath hitching as the freezing liquid bit into his skin like needles. It took him a few moments to adjust to the sensation, his senses sluggish as he surveyed his surroundings.
He was in a dimly lit room with the light illuminating only his chair but just enough to reveal the ropes binding him, tight and unyielding. The rest of the room remained cloaked in darkness, an abyss swallowing everything beyond his immediate reach.
Just then came a chuckle, low, light and chilling, echoing through the void like the whisper of death itself.
Isaac stiffened. The sound crawled over his spine like fingers trailing cold steel.
Then a second light flickered on. His gaze snapped toward the man seated before him, the same one he had glimpsed before losing his consciousness.
Snake tattoos slithered across his skin, curling around his arms and neck like living creatures. His eyes... pitch-black. Void-like. No whites, no pupils. Just abyss.
Isaac felt a chill run down his spine. 'This can't be good.'
The man exhaled, smoke curling in lazy tendrils from the cigar between his fingers. "So... Agent Phillips. Welcome to my humble abode. I trust you had a... pleasant sleep."
Isaac snorted, shifting against his restraints. "I could've used more warmth. Tsk... but I suppose I'm not in the company of a very warm and hospitable host."
The man chuckled, his fingers tracing over his tattooed forearm. "You're certainly right about that. As you can see... my companions and I aren't exactly warm hosts."
Isaac tilted his head, feigning curiosity. "Hmm... you don't say. I thought they were decorations—an unfortunate choice of wallpaper, really. But I stand corrected."
Another laugh echoed which was low and amused.
"You're quite the comedian, aren't you? I must say—I didn't expect humor from you, Agent Phillips. The ever-elusive, ever-sly ghost of the agency. The agent that's got every villian on their toes in anticipation of his next attack. Too bad your tactics didn't work this time. You always slipped away unnoticed in the shadows, but tonight... well, I guess I got lucky."
Isaac let out a slow breath, keeping his expression unreadable. "Lucky? Who said anything about luck? How do you know that capturing me wasn't part of my plan to catch a venomous snake like you?"
The man's smile sharpened as he stepped forward, crouching in front of Isaac. His voice dropped to a murmur, cold enough to freeze the air.
"Then why am I not in cuffs and at your mercy, Agent Phillips? Why is it the other way around?"
Isaac held his gaze, unflinching. 'Stay calm. He wants control. Deny him that.'
The man stood, circling him like a predator sizing up its prey. "Tell me, Agent Phillips... what do you know about the Black Tulip?"
Isaac exhaled through his nose. "Do you really want to know? Then tell me—what exactly do I gain by handing you information when you plan to kill me anyway?"
The man smirked. "You're right, of course. You won't be walking out of this room alive. You've been a thorn in our side for far too long. I've wondered when you'd finally get it through that thick skull of yours— that...you can't stop us. No matter how hard you try. And now? Well... you won't be trying anymore."
The door creaked open, revealing a familiar figure—Stevey. Or rather, 'Poison Ivy'.
He sauntered in, draped in a thin black gown that left very little to the imagination. A tray balanced in his hands, carrying a gun and a cup filled with an ominous black liquid.
Isaac's stomach twisted. 'Options for my death?..Great? How generous can my host be.'
The man gripped Poison Ivy's face roughly, pressing a hard, possessive kiss against his lips before snatching the tray from his hands.
Poison Ivy stepped aside, watching in eerie silence as the scene unfold.
The man turned back to Isaac, lifting the tray slightly. "So, Agent Phillips—what's your preference? A slow, agonizing death by poison? Or a quick and clean bullet to the head?"
Isaac didn't respond, his stare burning into the man with smoldering defiance.
The man chuckled, enjoying the fire in his captive's eyes. "My, my. Such hostility. Too bad eyes don't kill... but hands do."
He picked up the gun, pressing the barrel against Isaac's temple.
"I suppose I prefer the faster method." He paused, savoring the moment. "Goodbye, Agent Phillips. It was fun while it lasted. Say hello to your father for me—he was a great man, really. Too bad he bit off more than he could chew. And now... so have you."
A sinister grin pulled at his lips. "I guess history loves to repeat itself. Two great men. Two bullets. Same ending. With the same gun."
Isaac's entire body seethed with rage, his chest heaving, fire burning through his veins. His father. 'His father.'
Patricia wasn't the only one who had a tragic past, he did too, and it was all linked to the same man. Just like Patricia, Isaac was going to make him pay, even if he had to do it in hell. He was going to make him pay!!
Just as the man's finger tightened around the trigger, the door burst open with a loud crash. A man stumbled inside, his breath ragged, his expression frantic.
"The hell, man! Can't you see I'm busy?" The man snarled, his gun still trained on Isaac.
"I'm afraid we've got a bigger problem than that… Viper!" the intruder gasped, pausing to catch his breath. "The… the Black Tulip… he's gone! He—he's disappeared!"
Viper's furious roar echoed through the room. "What?!!" He whipped around, his face contorted with fury.
"Mr X is really pissed man!! We gotta find him and fast!!" Said the man after gaining his composure.
For a brief moment, Viper's gaze flickered back to Isaac, calculating. Then, in one swift motion, he shoved his gun into the intruder's hands.
"Kill him. Or I kill you!"
Without another word, he stormed out, with Poison Ivy following closely behind.
The remaining man turned toward Isaac, exhaling shakily as he tightened his grip on the weapon. "Sorry, my friend. Looks like it's the end of the line for you."
Isaac smirked. "You mean 'for you.'"
The man barely had time to process those words before Isaac's bound legs shot upward with acrobatic precision, knocking the gun clean from his grasp.
"Wha—?"
The stunned man reeled back, but Isaac wasn't finished. He twisted, launching a devastating kick straight to his chest. The impact sent him flying backward, crashing hard against the wall with a groan.
Without missing a beat, Isaac pressed his feet together. Smoke began to curl between the ropes, the fibers sizzling and soon they snapped. Within seconds, the restraints on his legs burned away. He swiftly rubbed his upper body against the ropes binding his torso, triggering the same effect.
The ropes disintegrated. He was free.
Isaac strode toward the groaning man, standing over him. "Friction acid," he mused, adjusting his stance. "Quite an odd name, but incredibly effective. Great for melting ropes—and, unfortunately, my outfit."
The man barely had time to look up before Isaac delivered a swift strike to his head, knocking him unconscious.
Isaac surveyed his shredded jacket and jeans. The acid had done its job, leaving behind nothing but charred fabric and smoldering holes. He stripped them off, now clad only in his sleek black T-shirt and slacks.
Moving efficiently, he swapped out his worn sneakers for polished black shoes, strapped his gun holsters around his waist, donned his black gloves, and secured both his own weapon and the fallen man's gun into place.
He did a quick scan of the room and saw no immediate threats.
He then grabbed a chair, snapped off one of its legs, and held it in his grip.
Then he moved.
Slipping toward the door, he eased it open, scanning the passageway. Empty.
He then stepped out, his movements fluid and stealthy, his presence a ghost in the shadows.
Near the corridor's end, a shadow flickered—someone was approaching.
Isaac pressed against the wall, holding his breath. As soon as the figure stepped into the passage, he struck—swinging the chair leg with precision. The impact was swift, merciless, and sent the man crumpling to the floor.
Isaac dragged the unconscious body into the same room he had escaped from, locking the door behind him from the outside.
His pulse steady, he moved deeper into the compound.
He stumbled upon a room filled with men hunched over weapon crates, assembling guns, loading grenades. None of them noticed his presence.
Without hesitation, Isaac crept to the door, silently shutting it and locking them inside.
He the stumbled upon another room— where chemicals and powders, were being mixed by men and women obviously sorting illicit substances, drugs.
Isaac's expression darkened.
He used the same method. Closed the door. Locked it. And kept moving.
Every step was calculated. Every movement was controlled.
Isaac wasn't just escaping.
He was dismantling their operation, one locked door at a time.
Isaac moved swiftly through the passageway, his senses razor-sharp. Just then—bloodcurdling screams pierced the air, sending a cold tremor down his spine.
He ducked low, slipping toward the hallway's edge and peering into the room beyond.
What he saw churned his stomach.
Men, with hulking figures, merciless—forced terrified victims, both male and female, including young children, to strip off their clothes. Their trembling bodies were injected with a thick, inky-black substance.
The aftermath was horrific. Some convulsed violently, thrashing, their screams raw with agony. Others frothed at the mouth, muscles seizing, bodies collapsing under the toxic assault. Those who resisted were beaten without mercy with wooden planks cracking against flesh.
Isaac's jaw clenched as he watched lifeless bodies being dragged across the floor, discarded like waste.
"I don't care! Just find more!"
Footsteps echoed toward him.
Isaac pressed himself between two pillars, shrouding himself in darkness.
"But, Poison Ivy, they can't take it. We've already lost twelve subjects, and thirty are in critical condition! We can't keep having the stench of dead people roaming around this place. If this keeps up, the cops will come sniffing around!"
Steve (Poison Ivy)—came into view, this time dressed less theatrically with a black shirt, jeans, sneakers.
"You think I don't know that?! Of course I do! But now, with the Black Tulip missing, we're losing control. We are losing our 'A' game here. I already feel sick with this damn poison running in my veins. It's only a matter of time before I lose control and run wild." said Steve.
"That's why the Black Tulip is the key to our immunity. If we could get our hands on that scumbag's blood and extract enough for the antidote, we'd be untouchable. And don't worry, my Poison Ivy…" the man's voice dropped lower. "As for the other issue…I'll make sure you get exactly what you need until you are completely satisfied to your heart's content."
The man smirked stepping close and trailing kisses along Steve's neck.
Steve scoffed, shoving him off. "Behave, Don. We're not here for... distractions.You still need to focus on Rockworth—he's the key to getting the Black Tulip. So make sure to hook him up completely in the game so that he can help us get our hands on him. Now that he's missing this gives us amp time and opportunity to catch him before Silver Snake does."
Don hummed, amused. "You'll get your prize, Poison Ivy. That's a promise. But first, I have other matters to handle."
"What matters?" Steve asked.
"Rockworth wants me to deal with his new...threat."
Steve's eyes glinted. "New threat...? You mean Milton's daughter?"
Don chuckled. "Rockworth is obsessed with getting rid of that girl. Afraid she'll dig into his dirty little secrets—especially the ones surrounding her father's death. But I'll take care of it. And also promise to deal with our mission."
Steve smirked. "Mm. Don't disappoint me. Or else…"
Don merely hummed as he started walking away.
Just then a man emerged from the opposite hallway, his gaze landing directly on Isaac's hiding place.
"Intruder!!" he shouted.
Before the man could react, Isaac sprang into action, and dived forward, driving his shoulder into the man's torso. He swung his makeshift weapon—a chair leg—brutally into the man's skull.
The guard crumpled.
Steve turned, eyes widening as he registered the scene.
His expression twisted into fury. "IT'S PHILLIPS!! KILL HIM!!"
A barrade of gunfire erupted.
Isaac threw himself behind the nearest pillar, bullets shredding the air. He ducked, rolled, and pulled out his weapon.
He shot down three of his shooters with aimed ease. Isaac bolted down the hallway, weaving between obstacles, dodging the unrelenting hail of bullets heading towards the exit.
"DON'T LET HIM ESCAPE, YOU SONS OF BITCHES! OR VIPER WILL KILL US ALL!!" Steve roared.
The goons scrambled after him, their shots relentless, but Isaac was faster. His body moved with deadly precision, cutting through the chaos like a phantom.
Bursting outside, his breath came in ragged bursts. Looks like they were at an abandoned warehouse, deep in the forest.
The goons still spilled out after him.
Just then, sirens wailed in the air at a close distance. The goons froze until they scrambled back into the warehouse, shouting instructions in order to escape.
Isaac stood still as police jeeps skidded onto the scene, kicking up dirt.
"CAPTAIN!!"
Davis sprinted toward him, relief in his eyes.
Isaac growled. "About damn time you got here! Move in—arrest every single one of them!!"
"Yes, Captain!! LET'S MOVE IN!!" shouted Davis.
Officers surged forward, weapons raised, captains' of teams shouting commands.
Just then Isaac saw movement on the warehouse's far side.
Isaac's eyes locked onto a fleeing group.
Steve. Don. Others.
Steve paused, turning slightly with a slow, smug smile curled on his lips. Whilst locking eyes with Isaac.
He then lifted his hand… and waved.
Just then black cars screeched onto the scene. The group dived inside and they sped off—at maximum speed.
Isaac's gut twisted. 'Something's wrong.'
Isaac's body reacted before his mind did.
He shouted, "GET BACK! TAKE COVER!!"
He grabbed Davis, shoving him hard onto the ground.
Then—
BOOM!!!!
A massive explosion ripped through the warehouse.
Fire erupted, consuming the entire structure.
The shockwave sent officers flying, bodies slamming into the ground.
Isaac felt a sharp, searing pain tore through his back.
He then slowly turned. Through a blurry vision he saw the flames raged, swallowing everything.
His vision blurred.
His ears rang.
People had been inside.
People....
His breathing hitched, his mind racing through the realization.
Then, Steve's face flashed in his memory. With his smug smile. Waving. Mocking.
Isaac's fingers dug into the dirt. His fury boiled to an unbearable level.
"AAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!"
A primal roar tore from his throat. Anger, grief, devastation—every ounce of him burned with it.
Silent tears spilled down his face as he watched the fire consume everything.
Then—
Darkness.