7:42 a.m.–Lower Undercore District
The girl's eyes snapped open.
A low ceiling. Dim lights. Bandages wrapped around her ribs, her wrists. A sharp pain flared in her chest when she sat up—but it wasn't the injury that scared her.
It was the silence.
This wasn't a hospital. There were no machines. No staff. Just a metal fan spinning slowly above and a door locked from the outside.
She remembered flashes—blood, pain, him.
The boy with the dead eyes.
The one who tore through seven monsters like he was born to kill.
Stray.
Her hands trembled.
"He saved me… but why? "
Elsewhere—8:12 a.m.–Hollowline Market
Stray moved through the crowded street like smoke—hood up, posture low. Every face was a threat. Every shadow, a question.
He ducked into an alley, entering a hidden bookstore, the bell above the door chiming softly.
The shopkeeper didn't look up.
"You're late," he said.
Stray tossed a bloody USB drive onto the counter.
"They were expecting me."
The man finally looked. Wrinkled face. One eye blinded. Tattoo of a clock etched across his throat.
"You found the Rustmark?"
"No," Stray said. "They found me."
Back in the East Sector–Police HQ
Detective Rowan Ives was staring at a board full of photos. Seven mugshots, red strings, gang affiliations. Every man in the warehouse last night was confirmed tied to Rustmark, a paramilitary crime syndicate that disappeared three years ago.
They were supposed to be extinct.
Then came last night.
And someone wiped them out in under five minutes.
Lynn walked in, holding a classified report.
"You're not gonna like this."
She dropped the file.
PROJECT WIDOW
Rowan's expression darkened. "This was supposed to be sealed…"
"Not anymore."
Inside the file: black and white photos of children. Underground facilities. Experimental data.
In the center of one photo—a young boy with grey eyes.
Label: Subject 12 – STRAY
Flashback –10 years ago
A metal door slides open.
Children with shaved heads and collars kneel on concrete. A voice echoes from hidden speakers.
"Pain is weakness. Bleed until you are pure. Kill until you're free."
One child doesn't flinch. His eyes are colder than the rest. Smarter. Still.
Subject 12.
He didn't cry when the beatings started.
He didn't scream when they cut into him.
He just watched. And learned.
Present –9:33 a.m.–Undercore Clinic
The girl was awake now, pacing.
A creak. The door unlocked.
Stray entered, hoodie still dripping from the rain, eyes scanning her fast.
"You okay?" he asked, almost mechanical.
She nodded, then paused. "Why'd you save me?"
Stray didn't answer right away. He took a chair, sat down, and stared at the blood drying on his hands.
"...Because they were hunting you to draw out someone else."
"Who?"
Stray looked up. Cold.
"Me."
Across town –9:45 a.m.– Unknown Location
A group sat in a dark room, faces obscured by static screens. A red symbol—Rustmark—burned on the wall behind them.
"He survived."
A voice replied through static: "Good."
"And Subject 12?"
"He remembered who he is."
"Perfect."
A beat of silence.
"Then begin Phase Two."
End of Chapter 3.