The Rise of a New Force
The main alarm blared—not just a warning, but a battle cry.
The central screen flickered. Not a simple notification, but a threat morphing into form. Foreign code slipped through like a hiltless dagger. Short, sharp, and deadly precise.
> ATTEMPTING BREACH... UNAUTHORIZED SIGNAL LOCATED... SOURCE: UNKNOWN NETWORK MASKED IN MUNICIPAL SERVER.
The underground base felt smaller that night, though its dimensions hadn't changed. The air was thicker. As if something unseen was creeping into the space… without a sound.
✦ ✧ ✦ ✧
Josepo walked slowly to the main panel. No longer rushing—because he knew this wasn't just a random attack. His hand touched the manual override, something even Adilof rarely used.
"This isn't a regular data breach," he muttered. "They're not here to steal. They're here to erase."
Shyblance stood behind them, body slightly tense.
"Erase… what?"
Adilof stared at the screen. "Us. All of this."
He moved swiftly to the weapons terminal—scanning layers of manual defense systems: security towers, electromagnetic shields, and city-level signal scramblers.
"If they breach all three firewalls," he said quietly, "this place becomes fully traceable. And we're finished."
Shyblance clenched her fingers. "What can I do?"
Adilof turned to her. His gaze no longer saw her as someone to protect—but as part of the resistance itself.
His brow furrowed. But his lips spoke one firm sentence:
"You have to be ready."
✦ ✧ ✦ ✧
Prep Room — Shyblance's Transformation
The narrow corridor lit up automatically as they entered the hidden storage chamber. The walls were lined with experimental armor. Not military-grade. Designed for urban shadow warfare.
Josepo pressed two buttons, then scanned his retina. A steel chamber slowly opened—revealing a suit made of synthetic fabric, molded to the human body with perfect flexibility.
"Originally for unarmed infiltrators. After modifications, it can resist heat, light rounds, and detect enemy body movement through air pressure," Josepo explained, half-tech, half-nostalgia.
Adilof eyed Shyblance. He stepped forward and picked up a light helmet next to the armor. It only covered the eyes and temples, fitted with twin dark purple lenses.
"You'll need vision that reads intent—not just shape," he said.
✦ ✧ ✦ ✧
Shyblance stared at the armor. Her fingers grazed the synthetic fabric—cold, yet flexible. Tight, yet feather-light. But more than anything—it didn't feel like clothing. It felt like a choice.
"Does this mean I'm…"
"No ranks. No titles," Adilof cut her off. "You become what you choose to be."
✦ ✧ ✦ ✧
Minutes later, the prep room door slid open.
Shyblance stepped out. The combat suit hugged her form perfectly. Midnight black with metallic blue highlights, soft lines running across shoulders and waist. Her boots were light and tactical. A sensor belt wrapped her waist—directly linked to her lenses.
Her new mask didn't cover her whole face—just the eyes and temples. Leaving the mouth and cheeks exposed. Not to hide her identity... but to remind the world she was still human.
✦ ✧ ✦ ✧
Josepo smiled faintly. "Perfect fit."
Adilof nodded and handed her a small device.
"It's not a weapon. It's a tracker, a scanner—and if needed... a bomb."
Shyblance rotated her wrist. The armor responded—systems powering up. A soft AI voice echoed:
> USER IDENTIFIED: OPERATOR S. LOADOUT SUCCESSFUL.
✦ ✧ ✦ ✧
At that moment, the main alarm blared again.
But this time, it wasn't internal. One of Broxtler's surveillance drones in District C-3 went dark. Its last transmission showed… a group of black-clad men wearing the new VORDA insignia—carrying high-frequency drilling equipment.
> TARGET: UNDERGROUND BASE ENERGY CORE. BREACH ETA: 11 MINUTES.
✦ ✧ ✦ ✧
Adilof pulled down his mask—fully covering his face. His eyes glowed blue once more.
Shyblance stood beside him. No longer the rescued girl… but someone who chose to stand between bullets and the truth.
Josepo walked to the wall. He grabbed an old weapon shaped like a staff, glowing faintly.
"If you're going down there," he said, "I'll protect the system from here. But remember… you carry a name that can't be cleansed if you fail."
Adilof looked back. "I don't carry a name, Father. I carry a purpose."
✦ ✧ ✦ ✧
And that night, two figures—one fully masked, one half-masked—launched from the base toward the heart of conflict. Toward a city unaware it was shielded by shadows.
Toward a system just beginning to realize… the nightmare they feared was waking up.
✦ ✧ ✦ ✧
Old Industrial Zone District C-3
Their steps were nearly silent as they exited the metal corridor. On the surface, rain poured hard. Not a drizzle—but a downpour, like the city trying to cleanse its own sins. But sins too old don't wash away so easily.
Adilof Broxtler and Shyblance ran in the shadows.
Behind his helmet, Broxtler's eyes glowed blue, scanning the area. Shyblance, clad in her fitted tech suit with an exposed-face visor, moved like living electricity—calm, but ready to strike.
They followed the city's underground maintenance pipes, heading to the last ping from the surveillance drone: the abandoned industrial zone of District C-3—a lawless place for over a decade.
Adilof spoke without turning. "The VORDA unit didn't come from outside. They moved from within. They had clearance."
Shyblance replied, her breathing steady. "So we were compromised from the start?"
"No," Broxtler said. "We just believed too long that shadows never change form."
✦ ✧ ✦ ✧
Confrontation at C-3
From the crumbling water tower, they surveyed the ground below. Eight armored figures worked silently, surrounding a large drill aimed straight at the concrete foundation of an abandoned warehouse.
But it wasn't the drill that caught Broxtler's eye.
It was the man standing in the center.
No helmet. Long hair slicked back by the rain. A black coat marked by the new VORDA sigil: a pupil-less eye split by a digital scar.
Shyblance narrowed her eyes.
"Who's that?"
Broxtler's voice dropped.
"Once, he was a student of my mentor. Now… he's a ghost that refuses to stay dead."
"Name's Sarel Vance."
✦ ✧ ✦ ✧
Sarel raised a gloved hand.
A speaker on his chest buzzed to life.
> "Broxtler… I know you're watching."
"You never were good at hiding. You just ran faster than the others."
"Now it's our turn."
Broxtler's grip on his gauntlet tightened.
"He doesn't bluff. If he's here, it means this entire site is wired. Two layers deep."
The ground beneath them vibrated.
"Seismic charge?" Shyblance asked.
"No," Broxtler muttered, eyes narrowing. "They're digging. Trying to breach our base from underneath."
✦ ✧ ✦ ✧
"We end it here."
Shyblance nodded.
She pulled a compact device from her belt and hurled it toward the crane platform.
BOOM!
A precision blast tore through the exit route. VORDA soldiers scattered in confusion.
Broxtler leapt from the tower.
His body sliced through rain and shadow, landing in the middle of the chaos.
Two VORDA agents dropped instantly—one slashed by his magnetic blade, another shocked into unconsciousness by his kinetic glove.
✦ ✧ ✦ ✧
Shyblance moved like a whispering blade.
Her visor flared, identifying hostiles.
> "Three armed. One unarmed—dominant posture. Target priority updated."
She darted forward. A knee to the face. A dodge, followed by a spin-kick.
A bullet grazed her shoulder—bounced harmlessly off her reactive armor. She retaliated with an electric pulse straight into the attacker's chest.
✦ ✧ ✦ ✧
Sarel stood still, smiling as Broxtler approached.
"You really came down here yourself," he said. "Still the silent type, I see."
Broxtler responded flatly:
"We trained under the same roof. But I chose the quiet side. The side that doesn't sell out."
Sarel lunged.
✦ ✧ ✦ ✧
Fist met fist. The downpour masked the sounds of bone cracking.
Sarel's style was wild—unpredictable. Broxtler's was cold, efficient. Every blow calculated. Every dodge intentional.
Steel clashed with flesh. Sparks flew from cybernetic limbs.
✦ ✧ ✦ ✧
Elsewhere, Shyblance stood over the final enemy.
She was panting—half from exhaustion, half from exhilaration.
"If nights like this keep coming…" she smirked, "I might fall in love with violence."
Broxtler, still locked with Sarel, grunted, "That means the system's getting in your head."
✦ ✧ ✦ ✧
Sarel shoved Broxtler back, blood trailing from his lip.
"Your father… he wanted us to protect people. Not hide in holes."
Broxtler straightened.
"My father didn't raise guardians. He raised thinkers."
Then, with brutal precision, he struck
•three rapid hits to Sarel's core
•a crushing elbow to the jaw
•and a knee that sent Sarel crashing into a steel crate
He didn't get up.
✦ ✧ ✦ ✧
The remaining VORDA troops fled.
Not one dared look back.
✦ ✧ ✦ ✧
Broxtler and Shyblance walked back through the industrial shadows.
The rain hadn't stopped.
Inside the base, Josepo awaited—his eyes scanning the surveillance feed, his hand resting on the old staff.
He saw the bruises, the cuts, and the microchip clenched in Broxtler's palm.
He nodded slowly.
> "This war's just begun. But tonight… you reminded them that shadows bite back."