Night poured over Area 73 like black ink, drowning every corner of the slums in cold silence.Zen Deskan tore through the abandoned industrial road on a stolen bike, engine screaming under the weight of his breathless rage.
His mother.His brother.Taken.
He replayed the mafia's words in his head:
"White cargo van. Industrial Road 12. Heading toward the old transfer depot."
Zen tightened his grip.
He wasn't going to wait.He wasn't going to negotiate.He was going to tear open the world if he had to.
THE APPROACH
The depot rose from the fog like a dead metal beast—rusted cranes, shattered windows, and lonely floodlights flickering over rotting cargo.
Zen stopped the bike, letting silence swallow him.
He drew a knife.A second knife.Then a third.
No emotions.No hesitation.
"Hold on, Rey… Mom… I'm coming."
A shadow moved behind him.
Zen spun, blade raised—
"Yo, calm down, Devil."
Joren stepped out of the darkness, hands raised, breathing hard from following him.
Zen growled. "I told you to stay with the others."
"And let you die alone?" John scoffed. "Not happening. Whether you like it or not… we're family too."
Zen didn't answer.But the tension in his shoulders eased—for one second only.
Then the alarms began.
THE DEPOT AMBUSH
Floodlights snapped on.Red lasers swept across the concrete.Doors clanged open.
Avalon soldiers poured out from every direction—helmets shining, rifles humming with fossil energy.
A voice echoed through a speaker:
"Zen Deskan. You are surrounded. Stand down."
Zen smirked.
"Yeah… no."
He dashed forward like a knife through smoke.A soldier lunged—Zen cut his knee and throat in one motion.Another fired—John shot him clean through the visor.
Chaos exploded.
Zen flipped behind a crate, grabbed a rifle from a fallen agent, and opened fire. Purple fossil sparks lit the air.
Joren yelled, "More on your left!"
Zen slid under them, stabbed the first, kicked the second into a wall, and broke the third agent's arm before snapping his neck.
Bodies fell.Guns burned.Smoke thickened.
It felt too easy.
Zen's eyes narrowed.
This wasn't a rescue.
It was a stage.
A trap.
THE INNER HANGAR
When the last soldier fell, a new sound echoed—slow, confident footsteps.
Keven stepped from the shadows, cracking his knuckles like drums of war.Behind him, screens flickered to life, revealing the cold face of the Avalon .
"Beautiful work, Zen," Keven laughed. "They always said you were a little crazy dog ."
Zen bared his teeth. "Where is my family?"
Keven snapped his fingers.
Zen kicked the cargo door open.
Inside, three Avalon agents turned in shock.
Zen didn't hesitate—he grabbed the nearest crate, smashed it into one soldier, swept the legs of the second, and slammed his elbow into the third. Metal cracked. Bones followed.
Joren whistled. "Damn, Zen…"
Zen ignored him. He shoved deeper inside.
At the far end of the cargo bay—His mother.Rey.
Gagged, wrists tied, trembling.
Zen felt his world collapse.
"Rey… Mom… I'm here. I'm HERE!"
Rey screamed behind the gag, eyes wide with terror.
Before Zen could reach them—
A boot stepped out of the shadows.
Then another.
Keven tossed the body aside with a bored expression.
"So the rat finally crawls home."
Joren froze. "That is ...Holy shit, Zen… that's Keven. Tier-One Avalon elite. We're dead."
Zen stepped forward anyway, blade drawn, eyes burning.
"Let them go.
Zen's blood froze when he saw his mother and Rey bound to metal restraints inside.
"ZEN!!""Brother, help!!"
Zen roared and charged, cutting through three soldiers before Keven blurred into motion.
A fist slammed into Zen's ribs. Something cracked.He collapsed, coughing blood.
Keven grabbed him by the hair and dragged him across the concrete like a broken doll.
"You really came," Keven smirked. "I hoped you would. Saves us time."
He ripped the silver bracelet—the Aydren Bracelet—out of its containment case.
Vharis the director engineer, stepped closer. "Put it on him. If it doesn't activate now… we're out of time."
This device does not activate for anyone. Soldiers, elites, engineered subjects—every test failed."
Keven smirked. "But your daddy, Aydren… he left us clues. Old DNA sequences, ancient languages. Took us years to decode."
He grabbed the box firmly.
"We know this thing should work. And YOU—Zen—were supposed to be the perfect match."
John whispered, "Zen… don't let him touch you—"
Too late.
Keven hurled Zen to the ground and ripped the bracelet out of the box.
Vharis leaned forward on the hologram.
"Put it on him."
Keven forced Zen's arm open and slammed the bracelet over his wrist.
A hum.A spark.A faint vibration.
Then—
nothing..
Dead metal.
Keven's smile vanished. His voice turned into a snarl.
"I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS USELESS JUNK!"
He kicked Zen in the chest, sending him sliding across the floor.
"For years," Keven growled, "we tried EVERYTHING to wake this thing up. We wasted armies. Equipment. TIME."He pointed at the bracelet like it was an insult."And still NOTHING!"
Vharis's eyes widened, panic cracking her calm."It is impossible. His DNA matches Aydren's patterns. Our readings were—"
"Wrong?" Keven barked. "Your 'data' was scraps from Aydren's old archive! Half the language was prehistoric! We guessed more than we translated!"
Zen lifted his head weakly."What… do you want with our family…?"
Keven looked down at him.
"To clean up Aydren's mess."
He raised his knife.
Joren stepped between them instantly."Touch him and you face ME!"
Keven smirked.
"You?"
He moved.
A blur of motion.A whisper of steel.A shockwave of force.
Keven appeared behind Joren… holding his knife downward.
For a moment, Zen didn't understand the scene.
Then he saw Joren.
Keven's blade had entered through Joren's throat, passed clean out the top of his skull, lifting him into the air like a broken puppet.
Joren's eyes widened—then faded.
Keven yanked the body off the knife and hurled it aside with monstrous strength.The corpse smashed into a cargo crate hard enough to dent steel.
Zen screamed."NOOOO!! JOREN!!!"
Keven turned back toward Zen.
"Now then," he said, wiping the blood from his blade,"let's finish cleaning the Deskan line.