Kai Langford - July 2120
The night air feels a touch colder than usual for July, or maybe it's just me. I lean back against the concrete wall, hands buried deep in my pockets, eyes fixed on the slice of sky above the facility. If it weren't for the floodlights bleeding white across everything, I might've seen some stars. But even the moon struggles to shine through, faint and washed out.
Something shifts in the corner of my eye. When I glance over, 009's already there, leaning beside me like he's been standing there the whole time. No words, no greeting. Just a quiet flick of his lighter and the faint click that breaks the silence. He holds a cigarette out to me, and I take it without hesitation.
The first drag burns a little. It always does when I'm trying not to think.
For a while, we just stand there. Two silhouettes in the fog, sharing smoke and silence. It's the kind of silence that doesn't ask for anything.
"You look stressed," 009 finally says, his voice low, more an observation than a question.
"Do I?" I answer, sounding more bored than I feel. My eyes don't leave the sky.
He gives a short laugh, the kind that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Ugh... Who knows, really. You've got that same deadpan face no matter what."
"Uh-huh" I mutter, flicking ash onto the ground.
He smirks. "Still, I've known you long enough to tell, you smoke when something's eating at you." He nudges the pile of the freshly burnt-out cigarette butts at my feet with the toe of his boot.
I don't answer right away. The air feels heavier now, pressing down on my lungs.
"I'm just thinking of my first solo mission," I say finally. The words hang there like they don't belong to me.
009 exhales smoke through his nose. "You'll do fine. You always do."
I don't tell him that fine doesn't mean anything anymore. Around here, it's just another way of saying still breathing, still following orders. The missions all blur together with the same noise, same dirt, same ghosts waiting at the end.
I let the cigarette burn down to my fingers.
"You ever wonder," 009 continues "what it'd feel like to just walk past the gate and keep going? Not stop. Not turn around." He looks at me, expression unreadable in the dim light.
"You wouldn't get far."
"Yeah," he say, and force a thin smile. "That's what I figured."
The silence stretches again, comfortable in its weight. A guard walks over and calls me over. I drop what's left of the cigarette, crush it under my heel, and push myself off the wall.
"Guess it's time," I say.
009 nods once. "Don't die, 004."
I give a lazy nod, already turning away.
The floodlights hum louder as I walk toward the van, the world ahead swallowed in white.
_____________________________
We drive in silence. The hum of the engine fills the van, steady and dull, it's almost hypnotic. I sit in the passenger seat, elbow propped against the window, eyes on the treeline rushing past. The blur of green and shadow feels endless, like we've been driving through the same forest for years instead of hours.
Neither of us speaks. There's nothing worth saying.
When the road begins to thin and the trees grow denser, the guard eases the van to a stop, pulling off the main road. The tyres crunch over gravel before settling behind a curtain of branches.
"Where're here," he mutters, more to himself than me.
I nod once and climb into the back. The air smells like old metal and something faintly burnt. I pop open the briefcase resting beside me, fingers moving on muscle memory. The earpiece catches a glint of light before I slip it into my ear. Cold plastic, familiar weight.
The guard circles around and opens the back doors, his boots thudding against the ground before he hauls himself up beside me. He's older than most, lines carved deep into his face from years of pretending not to care.
We run through the usual checks.
"Can you hear me?" he asks.
I give a short nod. The less I talk, the better.
He powers up the terminal bolted into the van's wall. The screen flickers, then steadies before his reflection stares back at him. I can feel the faint hum of the comms loop around my ear, the tiny camera clicking alive at the end. An unblinking eye that is always watching. Always ready to turn a mistake into a sentence.
The guard doesn't say anything else. He just reaches under the bench and pulls out a reinforced case, pressing his thumb against the scanner. And with a faint click, it opens.
He pulls out and hands me two silver knives, their edges catching the faint light like they're mocking me. I take them without hesitation, sliding each into the sheaths on my harness. The weight settles against my back, oddly comforting.
I tighten the straps, testing the fit. The knives sit flush against me, silent and reliable. Sometimes your power isn't enough. Sometimes it's the thing that gets you killed if you over use it. So you learn to trust the simple things.
I glance once toward the door, where the night waits, still, indifferent, endless.
"Time to go?" I ask.
The guard gives a curt nod, eyes on the monitor. "You know the drill."
Yeah. I always do.
I take one last breath of the stale air inside the van before stepping out into the cold. The forest swallows me whole, and the sound of the engine fades behind me.
It's colder than it should be. The air carries that still, heavy kind of silence, the kind that sits on your shoulders and dares you to break it. My boots sink into the damp earth with each step.
As I move deeper into the woods, the guard's voice crackling through the earpiece is the only thing keeping me on course. Telling me which direction to go in.
Branches snap underfoot. My pulse stays steady, too steady, maybe. That's the thing about fear, it burns out after enough missions, enough killing. You stop feeling it, but the body remembers what to do.
The trees begin to thin as I near the ridge, and through the gaps, I catch sight of a faint glow spilling from a solitary log house below.
The earpiece crackles softly. "Feed's clear," the guard's voice comes through, distant and bored. "Proceed."
"Copy," I mutter. The word tastes mechanical, meaningless.
I let my shadows spill across the ground, a dark mist coiling around my boots to swallow the crunch of dead leaves beneath them. Each step is silent and deliberate. The forest is still, save for the whisper of wind through the pines and the distant cry of something wild. I stay close to the trees, blending with the darkness they cast, one shadow among many.
The cabin comes into view more, it's a sagging thing of rotted wood and faded paint, wich has been half-swallowed by ivy. From a distance, it looks abandoned, but as I come up closer, I can feel something else. Movement.
It sits deep within the forest, tucked beneath a rocky hill that looms above it, shielding it from the pale touch of moonlight.
I move low, keeping my body close to the wall as I circle toward the window. Shadows hover around my hand near my side, though I know I won't need it, not yet. Dr. Thomas isn't the type to fight back outright, after years spent observing scientists like him, I know they're cunning, clever and slippery enough to be considered dangerous.
Sliding beneath the cracked windowframe, I peer inside. The interior is worse than the outside, dust thick in the air and cobwebs draped across the beams. But what catches my eye are the metal crates stacked in the corner, each one stamped with the GeneX insignia. The company's reach, even out here, in the middle of nowhere.
A figure paces the floor, muttering to himself. Thomas. He is thinner than I remember. His lab coat now long gone and replaced with a wrinkled plaid shirt. He glances toward the door every few seconds, like he's expecting someone, or something.
I watch him for a beat longer, mapping his gait, his ragged breath. When his back turns, everything snaps into place.
I time my steps to his rhythm and move to the door. Counting under my breath, one, two, three, I wait until he is facing away, then I let the coil of darkness pooled at my fists draw out. The wood splinters with a single strike, the hinges give and the door thuds to the floor.
Thomas spins as the noise dies, eyes wide, frozen in a way that makes him look like a deer caught in headlights. Before he can find his voice I flick my left wrist. Cold shadow snakes from beneath the floor and clamps around his ankles, then curls up, tight and intimate, binding him without sound.
The cabin smells of damp timber and stale coffee. I step through the threshold.
"004!? Wait. Wait!" He scrabbles the word out, panic trying to masquerade as negotiation.
I don't humour him. My finger finds the comm at my ear. "Target detained," I say, flat.
The guards voice answers, clipped and metallic, "Proceed to task two."
Task two: information extraction.
I cross to the corner chair and drag it to the centre, scraping it along the wooded floors. I turn back towards Thomas and he's already heaving, trying to wrench free.
The shadow around my hands tightens like a gloved fist and throws him onto the chair. His back hits the seat and a gasp of air leaves him before his eyes start darting across the room in fear.
"Dr Thomas," I say, keeping my voice low and even, the same tone I use when reading dossiers. "You can make this easy."
He laughs once, it's a dry, shattered sound. "You don't understand what you're asking. I know you won't let me walk free"
"You betrayed GeneX," I cut in.
His jaw works. Sweat beads at his temple, beading in the stubble. He shakes his head. "004... No, Kai. You should know better than anyone else why I had to"
I draw the knife from its holster behind my back, the cold steel catching the dim light of the cabin. I raise it slowly, letting the glint settle in Thomas's line of sight. His eyes widen, and a flicker of fear dances across his features, but he doesn't speak.
"Who have you been passing information to?" I ask, my voice low, deliberate, carrying the weight of something final.
He turns his head to the side, trying to hide, to resist, but I step closer. My fingers hook under his jaw, tilting his face back toward me. The knife follows, hovering just beneath his chin, close enough for him to feel its chill.
"Don't make me ask again," I warn, letting the blade's presence speak louder than words.
He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing, eyes darting between the steel and mine. The tension in the room coils tight, like the forest outside holding its breath.
"I can't..." he mutters weakly.
I let out a quiet sigh and lean back slightly, my fingers curling into a fist. The shadows around Thomas respond instantly, tightening like iron bands around his ribs. He gasps, struggling for breath, hacking as the darkness constricts him, refusing to yield. Panic lights his eyes, but before I can push further, a shift in the air freezes me.
Something, or someone, has entered behind me.
I turn sharply. A tall figure ducks under the doorframe with predatory ease. Dark-skinned, broad-shouldered, his presence fills the room like a wave. A cap shadows his eyes, a mask hides the rest of his face. Whoever he is, he's no ordinary man, and every instinct screams danger.
I take a step back, loosening the shadow around Thomas just enough to keep him alive, my knife raised in a low defensive stance. The intruder doesn't move like a man unsure of himself. He moves like a predator confident in every muscle, every sinew.
The man lets out a soft, almost amused laugh. "Looks like we're a tad late."
"Ray! Watch out, he-" Thomas starts, but I clamp the shadow over his mouth, silencing him instantly.
"I'm afraid the doctor is already in our custody," the man says, keeping his voice steady. "So I'm going to have to take him from your hands."
I can feel the weight of his strength pressing against the walls, the shadows in the room quivering in response. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that." I respond.
He lets out a small sigh shaking his head and without warning, he lunges.
The air snaps with the force of his movement. I twist, hurling a coil of shadow at him, dark tendrils shooting like black lightning. He barely flinches. A single sweep of his arm shatters the shadows midair, splintering them into nothing.
I lunge again, knife ready, trying to pin him, but his reflexes are preternatural. He catches my wrist mid-swing, his grip like iron, and twists. Pain flares, but I force the shadow inside me to flare, letting it whip around him, trying to bind, trying to squeeze.
He only chuckles, a deep, low sound that vibrates through the floorboards. His strength is inhuman. Every strike, every movement, radiates raw power, enough to bend steel. I dodge, duck, spin, and strike again, but it's like fighting a storm that knows me better than I know myself.
The shadows I wield pulse, lashing out with every ounce of my control, trying to corral him, keep him off balance. He counters with sheer force, blows that would crush bone and he is forcing me back.
My mind races, searching for an edge, a weakness in the man whose sheer strength makes the shadows flinch and waver.
I thrust my hands forward, and the shadows surge from the floor coiling around his arms with the strength of iron chains, freezing him in place.
He grins, dark eyes glittering over his mask. "Clever trick, But tricks don't beat power. Watch and learn."
He pulls with a force that makes the shadows shudder and groan, splintering under his strength. Then it hits me, a surge of energy so intense the floor trembles beneath him. The shadows writhe, struggling, twisting, trying to contain him, but he presses forward, unstoppable, a living force of sheer, overwhelming power.
I plant my feet, concentrating, drawing every ounce of darkness into a single coil around him. It's a battle of wills now, my control against his raw, overwhelming strength. The cabin shakes, the dust falling like rain.
I dodge a blow that would have crushed my ribs, rolling across the floorboards. The knife slashes through, slicing his arm, but he doesn't flinch. Every strike I throw, every shadow I cast, he meets with brute force. He's fast, too fast for a normal man, but I've trained for this, shadow isn't just power; it's precision, subtlety, anticipation.
My shadows shoot up and coil tightly, snaking around his torso and legs and I pull him down. He hits the floor with a thud that rattles the cabin, but he doesn't stop struggling. I plant my hands on the floor, guiding as much shadows as I can to tighten further, until he's pinned, shoulders pressed into the wood, legs trapped, arms uselessly thrashing.
His chest heaves. Sweat beads his mask. "Impressive," he hisses. "But you're-"
"Quiet," I cutt him off. The strain of my power begins to bite back, edges fraying from overuse.
My knife glints in the dim light as I raise it to his throat. The moment stretches, the air thick, every second a razor's edge.
Thomas trembles in the corner, still bound, watching us with wide eyes. The cabin feels impossibly small, the walls pressing in as the shadows writhe and the man's strength strains against them.
I bring the knife closer, the tip hovering at the pulse of his neck. I can feel his life teetering on the edge, the shadow around him coiling like a living thing, urging him to stillness, warning him.
And as I am about to plunge the knife through his flesh...
"Stop!"
The shout is sharp, cutting through the chaos like a whip. I freeze, knife inches from his skin.
A figure bursts through the doorway, nearly stumbling as he enters. He's breathing hard, one hand braced on the frame for support, the other raised in a silent plea to stop. Compared to the hulking man pinned beneath my shadows, this newcomer looks smaller, he doesn't seem like an immediate threat. But I've learned not to underestimate anyone. I shift my stance, a tendril coiling at my side, ready to strike at the first wrong move.
Silence fills the cabin, thick and tense. The new arrival also wears a black cap pulled low and a mask covering the lower half of his face. I study him closely, watching for the faintest twitch that might betray an attack.
After a few moments, he straightens, his breathing evening out. Then he lifts his head and our eyes meet.
Something flickers there. Recognition or maybe shock.
But I don't know him.
The man trapped beneath me stirs, breaking my focus. The mission is already unravelling, there are too many variables, too many witnesses. I need to end this now. Secure the doctor, neutralise the others, and get out.
The newcomer still hasn't moved. He's frozen in place, uncertain, or pretending to be and I take the opportunity. With a sharp motion, I send a tendril lashing toward him.
But he sidesteps. Effortless. Like he knew it was coming.
I don't stop. I strike again, faster, harder. Each attack cuts through the air, slicing shadows across the room, but he dodges every one. My irritation sharpens into something hotter. I swing my hand in a wide arc, and a blade of shadow tears across the cabin. It misses again, but the force tears through the wall behind him, splintering timber and sending shards of debris cascading across the floor.
The newcomer dives aside, avoiding both the slash and the falling wreckage. I seize that opening to send another tendril forward, coiling around his throat. This time I connect. The shadows constrict, cold and merciless. His hands claw at his neck as I tighten my grip.
A thin trickle of blood runs from my nose and my finger turn a shade of black. The telltale sting of overuse burns through me, but I grit my teeth. This ends now.
With both intruders restrained and Thomas still silenced in the corner, I raise my knife. Shadows coil tighter around the newcomer's neck while my other hand lifts the blade above the man beneath me. One strike, two corpses, one mission complete.
"Kai!"
The sound hits me like a blow. My name.
The voice comes from the man by the wall, the one I'm choking. The familiarity of it freezes me. My grip falters. I glance up, confused, as he tears the cap from his head and pulls down the face covering, and every nerve in my body goes still.
The shadows slip, flickering like dying embers.
It can't be.
My chest tightens painfully as the light from the shattered window catches his face. Green eyes, sharp and bright even through the exhaustion.
My mind blanks. I can't breathe.
The man beneath me feels the shift and surges upward, breaking free of my weakened shadows. The impact throws me across the room. I hit the wall hard, the breath knocked from my lungs.
But none of it registers.
I can't think. My chest feels like it's caving in, my vision tunnelling. All I can see is him.
The bigger man hauls himself up, snapping the last tendril of shadow from around the newcomer's throat. The newcomer shoves him aside and runs straight for me.
He drops to one knee in front of me, his hand hovering near my face. I lift my head, dazed, and meet his gaze again. That same warmth, that same impossible familiarity, floods through me.
"Hi, Kai," he says softly, and he smiles, the same crooked, infuriatingly gentle smile that hasn't changed since the day we met.
My throat tightens. The knife in my hand feels suddenly heavy, foreign.
"Ethan…" The word escapes me, a breath, a disbelief. "You... You died."
He shakes his head, still smiling, though there's something haunted behind his eyes. "Not quite."
The shadows at my feet tremble, uncertain, like they're waiting for me to decide whether to strike again or collapse entirely.
We just stare at each other in silence. For a moment, everything else, the wrecked cabin, the dust in the air, the pain in my ribs, fades into nothing. It's only him and me.
He looks older, but somehow there's a light in his eyes that wasn't there before. Something... alive.
"Ethan, we need to move. Now," the other man, Ray, I think his name was, calls from behind him, his voice rough with urgency.
I glance past Ethan's shoulder. Ray's supporting Thomas, one arm around the doctor's back, half-dragging him upright.
"We can't leave him," Ethan argues, his tone sharp, protective.
Ray shoots him a glare. "You can't be serious. He's GeneX and they could be swarming this place any second. We need to leave. Now."
Ethan turns back to me. I feel hollow, drained. My limbs are heavy, my thoughts scattered. I'm still trying to piece together what's real.
"I'm not going without him," Ethan says firmly. He leans in, his eyes softening as he uses his sleeve to wipe the blood running from my nose. The gesture is small, but it feels like being pulled back into a memory I can't escape.
Ray exhales through his nose, irritation written across his face. "Fine. But hurry up."
Ethan ignores him. His hand drifts to the side of my face, his palm warm against my skin. He looks into my eyes, searching, maybe pleading.
"Come with us, Kai," he says quietly, extending his other hand toward me.
I don't understand what's happening. My mind screams to pull back, to finish the mission, but my body doesn't listen. My hand seems to lift on its own, trembling slightly, drawn to him like gravity itself.
Our fingers almost touch, until-
"004, stand down. Now."
The voice in my comms snaps me back like a whip. Reality crashes in and I freeze.
Ethan's expression shifts to confusion as I pull my hand back, the connection broken.
"End them now and secure Dr. Thomas. That is an order." The voice crackles again, sharp and final.
My hand moves automatically to my ear. "I… I-" I stammer, my throat tight, unsure which world I belong to anymore.
Before I can speak again, Ethan moves. Swiftly but gently, he reaches up and plucks the earpiece from my ear.
He lifts it to his own ear, his eyes locked on mine. "Hello?" he says evenly. "Tell Dr. Langford he can't hide behind his fortress forever… and tell him-" he pauses, his voice low, deliberate, "-Kai is mine now."
He passes the earpiece to Ray, who crushes it in his fist without hesitation.
Those words, Kai is mine now, hit something deep inside me, a spark that burns and aches all at once. I feeling I haven't felt in years.
"Let's go," Ethan says softly, his tone gentler now. "I'll explain everything once we're clear of this place." He extends his hand again, that same steady smile that once meant safety.
And this time… I take it.
I don't know why. Every part of my training, every instinct screams not to, but something in my chest, heavy and familiar, pushes me forward.
Our hands clasp.
Then, a sharp buzz hums from the collar around my neck and a surge of electricity tears through me, white-hot and merciless. My grip slips from Ethan's hand as my body convulses. The pain is blinding, tearing through every muscle, every thought. I claw at the collar, gasping, but the current only intensifies.
Ethan's shouting my name, but the sound is distant now, muffled under the roaring in my ears.
The world narrows to a tunnel of light and static. My last breath comes out as a strangled gasp before everything collapses into black.