Zenithar – Restricted Military Zone
The deal was almost done.
Rain slid down the sides of the armored convoy in shimmering lines, tracing its way across black metal and Dominion sigils. Steam curled up from the ground, rising like ghosts through the floodlights. In the center of the compound, surrounded by armed patrols and APEX-Class mechs, stood two opposing figures.
The Dominion General adjusted his gloves, pristine and dry despite the storm. His face was hidden beneath a visor, but his voice was unmistakably cold.
The man across from him, cloaked in a matte-gray coat, said nothing.
Two agents from the Cyber Legion approached from the shadows, dressed in layered synth-armor stitched with luminous circuitry. One of them carried a briefcase—heavy, locked, humming faintly.
They stopped three steps from the General.
The handoff began.
"Biometric protocols?" the General asked.
"No external access," one agent replied. "You'll need all five signatures to even open the containment seal."
The General pressed his hand to the side panel. It scanned, accepted. Four more confirmations lit up red—still missing. He didn't seem concerned.
He opened it just enough to peek inside.
A pale blue glow pulsed within the case—steady, rhythmic, like a heartbeat trapped in crystal.
The prototype.
AEGIS.
"Impressive," he murmured.
Then, almost casually: "You'll have your next shipment by the end of the week."
The Legion agent nodded.
"Double capacity," he added. "The last batch… degraded too quickly."
"Not my problem," the General replied, shutting the case.
No one flinched.
No one even blinked.
The exchange was silent. Clinical.
Human cargo. AI cores. Payment in blood.
And from above, Raiga watched.
His breath came out like smoke.
His fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles had gone white.
"Raiga, don't—"
Liara's voice cracked in his earpiece. "Don't you dare."
He didn't respond.
He didn't move.
He ran.
Feet pounding across the rooftop, rain slamming into his coat. A shadow racing the storm.
"RAIGA!"
He leapt.
Like a missile.
Like wrath given form.
He descended like a god of war.
BOOM.
His body crashed into the roof of the central vehicle, caving in the steel with a thunderous impact. Shrapnel exploded outward. Alarms screamed. Soldiers staggered backward, weapons rising—
Too slow.
Raiga stood in the wreckage.
Drenched. Unmoving.
A silhouette of black steel, bloodlust, and vengeance.
And then—he moved.
Like lightning.
Like death.
The first soldier raised his rifle—
Too late.
Raiga's blade tore through him in a diagonal slash, blood bursting across the pavement. He twisted, fluid as smoke, driving an elbow into the next soldier's throat, crushing his windpipe before flipping him into a wall.
Screams.
Gunfire.
Chaos.
But Raiga was already gone.
He appeared behind another man, drove his sword into the base of the spine, then ripped it sideways, severing muscle and metal.
The others turned, opened fire.
He weaved through bullets like they were moving underwater.
Katana flashing in arcs of silver.
One head rolled.
A leg was severed mid-step.
Another soldier screamed as his arm was cleaved clean off, collapsing under the torrent of his own blood.
Raiga didn't speak.
Didn't hesitate.
Didn't stop.
Liara was frozen at her terminal, eyes wide, fingers hovering uselessly over her keyboard.
"He didn't say a word," she whispered. "He just… went."
She watched, helpless, as the boy she knew became something she didn't recognize.
Beneath the neon haze, amidst the storm, Raiga stood over a pile of bodies. Eyes glowing. Chest rising and falling slowly. Rain washing blood from his blade.
But it wasn't over.
WHRRRRRRR—
The two APEX-Class Mechs activated in unison, slamming their arms into ready positions. Shoulder cannons hummed. Artillery cores charged.
"Target acquired."
The first mech fired.
Raiga flipped sideways, springboarding off a barricade. The projectile missed—barely—but the shockwave threw him into a wall.
He hit hard. Rolled.
Got back up.
And ran straight at them.
He dodged a second blast, slid under the mech's legs, and slashed upward.
Sparks exploded. The visual sensors died.
THWUM.
He vaulted onto the back of the second, stabbing into the core joint behind its arm.
BOOM.
Internal systems ruptured.
The mech staggered.
Raiga ripped the blade free, jumped—
The first mech reoriented.
Too slow.
He crashed into its cockpit and drove the katana through the top.
Fire. Oil. Screaming metal.
Both titans fell.
And Raiga stood amidst the wreckage.
He turned toward his true target.
The Dominion General.
The man was trying to escape.
Raiga caught him in three steps.
The General raised his sidearm, shouting something. Raiga parried the shot with his sword and slammed into him full force, knocking the breath from his lungs.
Fists flew.
One. Two. Three.
Blood splattered the mud.
Then the blade sank deep into his chest.
Raiga held it there.
Watched the life fade.
"Traitor," he whispered.
Then pulled it free.
The General collapsed.
Dead.
And through it all…
the man from the Legion hadn't moved.
He stood calmly beside the now-closed case, watching with curious interest.
When the General fell, he tapped his earpiece.
"Retrieve the assets."
His voice was cold. Mechanical.
The soldiers behind him turned in unison and moved toward the prisoners.
Raiga spun, eyes wide.
"NO."
He ran.
But before he could get close—
RATATATATAT—
Gunfire.
Precise.
Perfectly timed.
Raiga was forced back, bullets grazing his arm, nearly taking out his leg.
He dove behind a ruined vehicle, panting, blade clenched tight.
These weren't Dominion soldiers.
Their aim was perfect.
Too perfect.
Programmed.
Calculated.
They moved like machines in human skin.
Raiga's mind raced.
These weren't rebels.
This was something else.
He slammed a fist against the metal.
"Liara," he barked.
She almost started crying out of sheer frustration.
"YOU RECKLESS, BRAIN DEAD, SUICIDAL—"
"Not now." His tone was dead serious. "Talk later. I need full support. You ready?"
"If we live through this, I'm slapping you into next week."
She gritted her teeth, flipping a sequence of switches.
"Of course I'm ready."
⸻
[To be continued.]