[Scene — Military Shelter, Northern India | Carved into the Mountain]
The shelter wasn't a base. It was a scar—a carved cave buried into the bones of the mountain, its walls reinforced with salvaged tech, humming with emergency power. Soldiers moved in silence. Civilians huddled like shadows.
Neil entered quietly, his boots echoing on the cold floor. A guard nodded him through—word of his arrival had spread.
Jay spotted him first.
"Neil!" he called, waving.
Reya stood beside him, bruised but alive. Relief flooded her face.
She stepped forward, hesitated—and asked gently, "Your family…?"
Neil froze.
For a moment, the room was gone. The sounds vanished.
He stood again before his house.
Or what remained of it.
[Scene — Flashback | Days Ago | Ashes]
The sky was crimson when he found it—his home, a skeleton of melted steel and broken memories.
Doors off hinges. Roof collapsed inward. The garden—gone. The smell of burned plastic and scorched dreams lingered in the air.
He stepped through the ruins, calling names into silence.
No one answered.
Only ash remained.
[Scene — Present | Shelter Interior]
He bowed his head. His fists clenched. Tears welled, unbidden.
Reya reached out, pulled him close. No words. Just warmth.
Jay stepped in too, wrapping both of them in a rough hug.
The three stood still, bound by grief. Bound by survival.
[Scene — Later | Cafeteria | Inside the Shelter]
The mess hall was carved deeper into the cave—bare metal benches, rationed supplies, dim lights flickering with strain.
Neil sat between Jay and Reya, staring at his untouched food.
His fingers twitched.
Something itched at the edge of his thoughts—like static in his skull. He looked up.
Across the wall, just above the storage crates, shimmering faintly—
> Unite.
Find the others.
--
Neil's Inner Voice:
"It means I'm not alone…
Others like me exist. Awakened. Changed.
But where are they?
Are they hiding like I was? Or fighting their own war somewhere in the ruins?"
He clenched his fist, the weight of the message settling deep.
"How do I find them?
And when I do…
Will they be human like me?"
He looked at his reflection in a dented tray—his eyes no longer just his own.
"Or have we already started becoming something else?"
--
His breath caught. "It's happening again."
Jay looked over. "What?"
"I see things," Neil whispered. "Messages. Energy. Power. I don't understand it all… but it's real."
He looked at them both. "Back there—I survived because something inside me fought. Not just strength. Something else. Like a signal."
Reya frowned. "Are you saying… you've changed?"
Neil nodded slowly. "I'm not normal anymore."
Before they could speak further, the loudspeakers crackled.
[Scene — Shelter Command Hall]
General Thade stood on the central platform—face weary, armor scratched. Around him, maps of ruined cities and supply routes flickered.
"We've lost nearly 80% of personnel in the northern zone," he announced. "Civilians are starving. Cities are overrun. We need teams to extract supplies. Food. Medicine. Data."
His voice tightened.
"We're not forcing anyone. But we need volunteers."
Silence.
Then—
Jay raised his hand.
"This is the only way out of these walls," he said. "We either rot here, or do something."
He looked at Neil.
Neil stared at his own hands. He remembered the Pulse. The power. The message.
He raised his hand too.
"I'll go."
Reya looked at both of them, then nodded, stepping forward.
Three among hundreds. But enough.
Because now… the war had entered its second phase.
They were no longer just survivors.
They were the first to rise.
[Scene — Military Shelter, Exit Ramp | Dawn]
The heavy doors of the shelter groaned open, metal grinding against metal. A dry gust swept through the tunnel, carrying with it the scent of dust and scorched earth.
The first jeep rolled out—an armored vehicle fitted with an automated turret, swiveling slowly like a predator sniffing for prey. Four soldiers sat inside, eyes sharp, weapons locked.
Behind it, three transport trucks followed. The last one carried Neil and Jay, seated among four civilian volunteers—each with makeshift gear and nerves frayed thin. Two soldiers rode shotgun, one at the rear, scanning the horizon.
Neil's gaze was fixed beyond the rising sun, his face calm—too calm.
He no longer feared the Torvok.
He had faced worse. Survived worse.
He didn't need a gun.
What he carried inside him now… it was enough. Maybe more than enough.
He flexed his fingers absently, as if the power beneath his skin was just below the surface—waiting to be summoned.
Beside him, Jay watched silently.
Now, Jay studied him like a stranger. A weapon disguised as a friend.
"You're not the same," he said quietly.
Neil didn't answer.
Because he wasn't.
[Neil — Inner Voice]
"Guns won't save us.
Torvok don't bleed like we do.
They die when you cut them down—limb by limb, bone by bone.
I've seen it.
Felt it."
"And now… I know I can do it again."
The trucks rumbled over cracked roads, leaving the shelter behind, heading toward the forgotten city.
In the distance—Mount Everest loomed.
And with it, something darker.
The Rakshasa had landed.
And this was only the beginning.
[Scene — Ruined City Outskirts | Midnight]
They had made it.
The convoy rolled into the dead city, winding between broken towers and collapsed roads. Fires had long since died here—only silence and ash remained.
The soldiers moved with practiced speed—fuel siphoned from husks of old tankers, crates of preserved rations unearthed from abandoned stores, and salvageable tech packed tight into the trucks. Everything that could help the shelter survive another week.
Neil helped haul gear, eyes scanning constantly.
Something gnawed at him.
A pull. A ripple.
Like air folding in on itself.
Then—
A spark in the sky.
Tiny at first. Then a streak. Then a shape.
Descending.
His stomach twisted.
"Captain—" Neil called out, pointing skyward. "Something's coming!"
The captain raised his binoculars, squinting against the dark. Then his voice barked out, sharp and urgent.
"Everyone move! ABANDON VEHICLES!"
They ran.
The spark became a roar.
And then—
Impact.
A fiery spear of metal tore through the sky and slammed into the street behind them. The shockwave hurled metal, stone, and bodies through the air.
BOOM 💥.
The lead jeep erupted in flames. Two volunteers never got up. Their screams were cut short by fire and rubble.
Jay pulled himself up from the cracked pavement, coughing blood. He looked over—the captain was wounded, leg shredded, barely conscious. One of the surviving soldiers lay beside him, bleeding but breathing.
Jay clenched his jaw, eyes wide, shaking.
"Neil—we need to GO!"
He hoisted the wounded captain with help from the other soldier, dragging them toward the closest truck. His hesitation from before was gone—drowned in fire and instinct.
He shoved the two inside, slammed the rear gate shut.
"Drive! Get them back to shelter!" he shouted at the last soldier behind the wheel.
The truck peeled off, leaving black streaks on the ruined road.
Jay turned to call Neil—
But Neil hadn't moved.
He stood alone now, on the scorched line between shadow and flame.
The smoke was clearing.
And something was coming back down.
A silhouette descending slowly—a small Rakshasa scout ship. Sleek, fanged, not Torvok.
Jay's voice cracked. "Neil! MOVE!"
But Neil didn't run.
His jaw tightened.
His hands glowed faintly, electricity crackling at his fingertips.
He wasn't afraid.
He was ready.
[Scene — Battlefield | Ruined City Edge | Midnight Chaos]
Jay's breath came in shallow bursts.
"I can't fall now."
"Neil's risking everything."
"I have to fight. I have to survive."
His inner voice pushed back against the fear. Adrenaline roared louder than the sirens.
Then—
Red-armored soldiers dropped from the descending scout ship. Thirty-five in total. Weapons glowing. Movement precise. Inhuman.
The first volley hit hard—crimson bolts tearing through concrete, sparking off metal. Soldiers dove for cover, returning fire blindly from behind wreckage.
Screams. Shouts. Smoke.
One of the trucks—still half-loaded with supplies—caught a direct blast.
BOOM 💥.
The explosion lifted it off the ground. It twisted mid-air, caught fire, and slammed into the side of a ruined building.
Inferno 🔥.
Jay ducked, heart racing.
Across the smoke, Neil sprinted toward the Red Soldiers. Unarmed. Alone.
"NEIL!" Jay shouted.
But the Red Soldiers had seen him too.
Weapons turned.
Fingers tightened.
Bolts fired.
Too fast. Too many.
Jay's eyes widened.
"It's too late—he can't dodge that—"
But the world snapped in half—
BOOM 💥.
A blinding blast lit up the space between Neil and the incoming fire.
When the smoke cleared—
A figure stood where the shot had landed.
Broadsword raised.
Its surface shimmered like molten crystal.
Kael.
His armor scorched. Eyes glowing.
The blade in his hands hummed with barely contained energy.
Jay's mouth parted. "Who the hell…?"
---
Amidst the chaos, Neil's eyes locked onto Kael's blade.
It pulsed with light—not just energy, but something deeper. Runes? Letters? No. Words.
Floating. Shifting. Burning.
Class: Red Soldier
Rank: Soldier-L1
Attack Power: High
Speed: Low
Weapons: Dual Plasma Blasters
Type: Mechanical Infantry Unit
---
Before he could speak, another figure leapt from the shadows.
Twin blades flashed.
Sira.
She landed like thunder, her swords cutting through two Red Soldiers in a single motion.
She looked up, eyes fierce, hair streaked with ash.
"Thirty-five," she called. "That's the count!"
Kael didn't look away from the enemy.
"Neil, don't get hit. Their plasma burns straight through human bone."
Neil nodded, still stunned.
Sira moved first—slashing low, vanishing into the smoke. Her swords sang through the air.
Kael followed—striking with surgical precision, his broadsword absorbing every blast that came at him.
The Red Soldiers opened fire—rapid, relentless.
But Sira and Kael moved like ghosts.
Every impact was caught on steel.
Every strike made their blades glow brighter.
The red-armored soldiers closed in, their plasma blasters crackling with deadly energy. But amidst the chaos, Sira and Kael moved with deadly grace, cutting through enemies like shadows in the night.
Neil stood still for a moment, taking in the spectacle—Kael's sword flashing, Sira's blades slicing through the air with surgical precision. Then, something inside him stirred. The faint hum of power resonated deep within his chest.
Neil (thinking to himself): I feel it again. That... pulse. It's inside me.
Without thinking, Neil gripped his knife tighter and rushed toward the battle, his heartbeat syncing with the electricity crackling in his veins. Kael noticed him in an instant, a nod of approval passing between them.
Kael (shouting over the chaos): "Focus, Neil! You've got power now—use it!"
Neil dashed forward, his knife raised, but the enemy fire was relentless. Plasma bolts whizzed past him, but he didn't flinch. The energy inside him surged, instinctively guiding his movements.
Kael (grabbing Neil's arm): "Not just your strength. You have to focus it."
Kael's grip tightened as he pulled Neil behind a crumbled wall, just as plasma fire splintered the stone.
Kael: "This is how you fight—not with blind rage, but control. You have three basic powers to wield: strength, speed, and stamina."
Neil (breathing hard): "Strength? Speed? How...?"
Kael (with a fierce calm): "You've unlocked them. I'm going to show you how. First, focus on your strength. Use your will to push it into the knife. Make it yours. Let your power flow through it."
Neil closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on the knife in his hand. He could feel the pulse within him, the surge of raw energy. His muscles tensed, and when he opened his eyes, he could swear the knife gleamed brighter.
Neil (quietly): "I can feel it... It's like it's alive."
Kael: "Good. Now speed. Channel that energy into your limbs. Quick reflexes. You're faster than you think."
Without waiting, Kael lunged forward, moving with blinding speed, slashing through two Red Soldiers in a single fluid motion. He turned back to Neil.
Kael: "Can you keep up? Move, Neil!"
Neil sprinted, focusing on the speed, and in a blur of motion, he dodged the incoming fire, his knife striking a soldier's blaster, knocking it from their hand. The soldier stared, confused, before Neil was upon him.
Kael (grinning, voice steady): "You're learning. Now stamina—use it. You don't tire. You endure."
Neil could feel it—the burn in his legs, the strain in his chest. But instead of giving in, he pushed harder. The more he focused, the more the power within him surged, blocking out the pain.
Neil: "I... I can take it."
Kael (nodding): "You're not just surviving anymore, Neil. You're becoming a weapon."
Jay watched, stunned.
The remaining soldiers beside him didn't fire.
They stared.
"What… are they?" someone whispered.
Neil's voice returned, steady now.
"They're like me," he said. "Awakened."