By the time Alex reached the outskirts of Sector 17, the city no longer looked like a city.
The neon lights had disappeared behind him. The crowded streets, traffic noise, and late-night vendors were replaced by silence so thick it almost felt unnatural. Even the air smelled different — stale, dusty, abandoned.
Sector 17 was where the government dumped its mistakes.
Old factories. Broken warehouses. Rusted rail tracks that hadn't carried a train in decades.
No civilians lived here anymore.
Which made it the perfect place for secrets.
Alex stepped over a fallen chain-link fence and scanned the area. His boots crunched softly against gravel and broken glass. The moon hid behind clouds, casting the entire zone in a dull gray shadow.
Midnight.
Right on time.
He kept his hands inside his coat pockets, but his body remained alert. Every muscle was ready. Immortal didn't mean careless.
Careless got you captured.
And capture was worse than death.
A faint breeze rattled loose metal sheets somewhere nearby, creating an eerie clanging sound. For a normal person, it might have felt like fear.
For Alex, it felt like memory.
Places like this reminded him of the old Vanguard facilities.
Cold rooms.
Steel tables.
Bright lights.
Screams that echoed off concrete walls.
He shook the thoughts away.
Focus.
His wrist device flickered again. The unknown signal that had sent him the message was close. Very close.
He followed it toward the largest structure in the area — an abandoned manufacturing plant with shattered windows and a collapsed roof. The building looked like it had survived a war.
Maybe it had.
The giant metal doors were slightly open, just enough for someone to slip through.
Too obvious.
Definitely a trap.
Alex exhaled slowly.
"Fine," he muttered. "Let's see what kind."
He stepped inside.
The air was colder.
Dust floated through thin beams of moonlight breaking through the cracked ceiling. Old machines sat like skeletons in the dark. Conveyor belts frozen in time. Hanging chains creaking softly.
Every footstep echoed.
Too loud.
He hated echoes.
They reminded him how alone he was.
Suddenly—
Click.
A small metallic sound.
Alex stopped.
His instincts screamed.
Sniper.
He moved instantly.
A gunshot exploded through the silence.
The bullet sliced through the space where his head had been a fraction of a second earlier and smashed into the wall behind him.
Then another.
And another.
Three red laser dots appeared on his chest.
"Seriously?" Alex sighed. "Again?"
Gunfire erupted from all directions.
This wasn't random shooting.
It was coordinated.
Military.
Vanguard.
He dove behind an overturned metal table as bullets shredded the air. Sparks flew. Concrete chipped apart.
"Target acquired!" someone shouted. "Do not let him escape!"
Flash grenades rolled across the floor.
White light burst.
Even Alex's enhanced reflexes struggled for half a second.
Half a second was enough.
A net launched from the shadows and wrapped around him. Thick cables tightened, humming with electricity.
Thousands of volts surged through his body.
Pain exploded through every nerve.
His muscles locked.
He collapsed to one knee.
"Voltage increased," a voice ordered.
More current.
His skin burned.
Smoke rose from his coat.
But he didn't scream.
He never gave them that satisfaction.
"Still alive," another soldier muttered nervously.
"Of course I'm alive," Alex growled through clenched teeth.
Then he pulled.
The cables strained.
Metal groaned.
Electricity crackled.
And then—
SNAP.
The net tore apart like paper.
Before the soldiers could react, Alex was already moving.
He grabbed the closest man and slammed him into the wall. The impact knocked him unconscious instantly. Another rushed forward with a shock baton.
Alex caught his wrist and twisted.
Bone cracked.
The baton dropped.
Two more fired tranquilizer rounds.
Needles pierced his shoulder and neck.
He felt the chemicals flood his blood.
Enough to sedate an elephant.
For a moment, his vision blurred.
Then his body burned the toxins away.
Like always.
He ripped the darts out and tossed them aside.
"Wrong strategy," he said calmly.
Panic spread across their faces.
That panic was new.
Good.
It meant they still hadn't figured him out.
Within seconds, the factory fell silent again.
Broken equipment. Unconscious soldiers. Smoke drifting through the air.
Alex rolled his shoulders, wincing slightly as the last burns healed.
They were getting smarter.
But not smart enough.
He checked the signal again.
Still active.
Still deeper inside.
Which meant something strange.
If Vanguard had set the trap, why keep the signal on?
Unless…
They weren't the ones who sent it.
Alex frowned.
He walked toward the back of the factory where an old elevator shaft stood. The doors were rusted, but faint light glowed from below.
Someone had power running down there.
Recently.
Interesting.
He forced the doors open and jumped down, landing smoothly on the elevator roof. Then he dropped into the lower level.
The basement was different.
Clean.
Too clean.
The dust was gone. Lights flickered softly overhead. Cables ran across the ceiling. Someone had renovated this place.
Not Vanguard style.
Their facilities were sterile and cold.
This felt… improvised.
Human.
At the center of the room stood a single desk.
And someone sitting behind it.
A girl.
Early twenties, maybe.
Dark hair tied back. Glasses. Laptop open. Multiple screens glowing with code and surveillance feeds.
She looked more like a college student than a criminal mastermind.
She didn't even look scared.
She just watched him like she'd been expecting him all along.
"So," she said calmly, "you're Alex."
He froze.
Nobody said his real name anymore.
Not for decades.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"My name's Mira."
She turned her screen toward him.
On it were files.
Thousands of them.
Photos.
Reports.
Medical scans.
Every escape.
Every capture.
Every experiment.
His entire life.
Or prison.
"You've been busy," Alex said quietly.
"I've been searching," she corrected. "For you."
He stepped closer, suspicious.
"Why?"
She hesitated.
Then spoke softly.
"Because you're not the only one."
The words hit harder than any bullet.
Alex stared at her.
"…What did you say?"
Mira opened another file.
A photo appeared.
Blurry. Old.
But clear enough.
A man standing in a hospital hallway.
Young.
Unaged.
From 1983.
Exactly the same face in a second photo dated 2024.
No change.
No aging.
Just like him.
"They called you anomalies," Mira said. "Failed attempts at something called the Vanguard Immortality Project. But you weren't failures."
Her eyes met his.
"You were prototypes."
Alex's heartbeat slowed.
For the first time in seventy years…
He wasn't alone.
"There are others," she whispered. "And Vanguard is hunting all of you."
Silence filled the room.
Hope and dread tangled inside his chest.
"How many?" he asked.
Mira swallowed.
"…You're the last one still free."
Before he could respond—
Alarms screamed.
Red lights flashed.
Her screens filled with warnings.
"Uh… that's not good," she muttered.
"What now?"
She turned the monitor.
Satellite feed.
Dozens of armored vehicles approaching.
Drones overhead.
Helicopters.
And one massive black transport truck.
Vanguard insignia.
"They traced my signal," she said. "They're sending Unit Zero."
Alex's expression darkened.
He remembered Unit Zero.
Their elite squad.
The monsters trained specifically to capture him.
This wasn't a small team.
This was war.
Mira looked at him.
"What do we do?"
For the first time in years, Alex didn't think about running.
Didn't think about hiding.
If others like him existed… if Vanguard had ruined all their lives…
Maybe it was time to stop surviving.
Maybe it was time to fight back.
A slow smile formed on his face.
"Tell me you have an exit plan," he said.
She grabbed her bag.
"Several."
"Good."
Explosions thundered above them.
The ceiling shook.
Dust rained down.
Alex cracked his knuckles.
"Because tonight," he said, eyes glowing faint blue, "we're not the ones being hunted."
The war had just begun.