The already cramped room felt even tighter like the air itself was being squeezed out of it. Drago's words sounded absurd, like something ripped straight out of a cheap novel. And yet… somewhere deep in Edward's instincts, there was a quiet, unsettling sense that it might be true.
"And how am I supposed to believe you?"
Edward forced the words out, his gaze tense behind the mask's visor.
"I don't expect you to. But it's the truth."
Drago stepped closer, closing the distance.
"Everything they broadcast… every piece of news you hear, it's all fabricated."
The hooded man paused, his sharp eyes locking onto Edward, pressing him without a word.
"The real question is… are you going to rot in this shoebox…"
A beat.
"...or stand on the same side as me?"
Edward stood frozen. His heart pounded so hard the mask's sensors flashed red in rapid sync with the chaos in his mind.
"…Are you going to kill me?"
His voice trembled as he took a step back.
"The one who's going to kill you… isn't me."
Drago replied, his eyes flicking toward the steel door.
"In a few seconds, someone's going to kick that door in and come for me, won't matter to them whether you're in the way or not. And even if you make it through that… you're still not making it out alive."
"What the hell do you mean I'm going to die? And how do you even know someone's coming?!"
Edward snapped, panic bleeding into his voice.
"There's no time to explain. So decide."
Drago cut him off, his stare sharp pinning him down, forcing a choice in the span of a heartbeat.
Boom!
The blast slammed into the door, shaking the entire room. The steel panel was torn apart by a high-powered breaching tool.
Four armored assault operatives stormed in instantly, rifles raised locked straight onto where the two of them had been standing.
"Target confirmed. Lethal force authorized."
The command crackled over comms.
Drago yanked Edward into the cramped bathroom without hesitation, then stepped back out alone, squaring off against all four operatives.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gunfire erupted.
At point-blank range, rounds tore into Drago's body punching through flesh, some embedding deep, others ripping clean through his back as dark blood sprayed across the walls.
Wounds split open across him ragged, brutal exposing torn muscle and shattered tissue beneath the impact.
And yet, Drago was still standing.
In the next instant, his wounds began to close, rapidly, like the footage was being rewound. Muscle fibers contracted, forcing the embedded rounds out of his body.
Clink! Clink!
Spent bullets hit the floor, the sound ringing sharply through the brief silence.
"Shit… that hurts like hell."
Drago hissed, eyes flaring with anger. As the operatives scrambled to reload, he moved.
Crash!
The first man was grabbed and slammed headfirst into the wall, his helmet shattered on impact, and he dropped instantly.
Another tried to raise his rifle Too slow.
A heavy punch drove straight into his abdomen. The armor absorbed some of it, but not nearly enough. The force punched through, making him choke on blood before Drago hurled him clean out through the shattered window.
Aaaaaa…!
The scream tore through the air, then faded, swallowed by the drop from seventeen floors up. A distant, sickening impact followed. And then… silence.
The third operative ditched his rifle and drew a combat knife, slashing across Drago's arm tearing a long, ragged gash. In the blink of an eye, the flesh pulled itself back together sealing smooth as if nothing had happened.
He pressed in, switching to close-quarters combat, striking fast precise. It didn't matter. Drago read every move. As the blade came in, he caught the man's wrist twisting it violently out of shape.
Crack!
Bone snapped. A kick followed driving straight into the man's chest, launching him backward into the wall before he collapsed in a heap.
The fourth operative slammed a fresh magazine into place, just in time. With a roar, he opened fire at point-blank range.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Every round hit. Drago's body lurched under the impact, and then the same nightmare replayed. Torn flesh sealed itself instantly, wounds knitting shut in a heartbeat. The only thing left behind was his shredded shirt, soaked dark with blood.
"W-What the hell are you…?!"
The operative stammered, eyes wide with pure terror as he stared at the monster in front of him.
"My name's Drago."
The reply was cold. Flat.
"Next time… send your P-Type dogs after me."
Crash!
Drago grabbed him by the collar and slammed him down onto the table, wood splintering on impact, the structure collapsing into ruin. The man went still.
Drago stood there, breathing hard, sweeping his gaze across the room, now reduced to a miniature battlefield, before turning toward the bathroom where Edward was hiding.
"Hey, kid! What's it gonna be?!"
he shouted.
Edward stepped out slowly, his legs unsteady. The sight of three operatives sprawled in pools of blood amid the wreckage made his vision spin. But the violence in front of him… stirred something buried deep in his mind. Fragments of memory broke loose. The ruined house. The wounds on Unit 23, healing like a miracle. It was the same. Exactly the same as what Drago had just shown.
"Wait… you guys are…"
He didn't get to finish.
Crash!
A figure burst through the doorway at blinding speed. The impact slammed straight into Drago's torso, folding his body in half. It was 23. A P-Type operative, his eyes cold, murderous. And he didn't stop. He drove forward, throwing his full weight into Drago with relentless force.
Shatter!
Glass exploded outward. The two of them tore through the window straight out from the seventeenth floor. Gone in an instant. All that remained was a violent gust of wind rushing back into the ruined room.
Edward stood frozen by the shattered window, staring down at two figures tearing into each other midair, silhouetted against the afternoon light of the domed city.
"Sir, are you alright?"
Alicia's voice rang out as she stepped into the room carefully, her eyes fixed on him.
"D-Don't come any closer!"
Edward blurted, instinct taking over as he stumbled back heels nearly catching on the jagged edge of the broken window.
"Please, calm down. I'm with P-Type, I'm not a threat. You're safe now."
Her voice softened, measured meant to reassure. But Edward's mind was already spiraling.
If what Drago said is true… I need to get out. Now.
That voice in his head kept screaming warning him that her kindness might just be a cover… for wiping his memory clean.
"Uh… could you take a look at this for me?"
Edward said, pointing toward one of the operatives lying motionless on the wrecked table. Alicia hesitated, just for a moment, then stepped forward to check. That was all he needed.
Thud!
In a split second, Edward bolted. He sprinted out of the room at full speed, still wearing the carbon fiber mask, grabbing his backpack off the floor without breaking stride.
"Wait! Where are you going?!"
Alicia shouted after him, startled watching his figure vanish into the dim corridor of the seventeenth floor.
"Damn it!"
She clenched her fists, frustration breaking through.
.....
At the base of the high-rise The impact from a seventeen-story fall had fractured the concrete, spiderweb cracks spreading outward across the ground. Drago pushed himself up from a thick pool of blood.
Crack!
Bones shifted snapping back into place with a sickening sound as his twisted frame realigned. Across from him, 23 rose as well fully restored, no different.
"Project 29, Drago Armstrong. You are under arrest. Comply immediately. Do not force me to escalate."
23 spoke the moment his final wound sealed shut. His eyes were cold. Empty.
"Heh… good to see you too, 23."
Drago spat blood onto the ground, his grin crooked playful, but edged with something feral as he stared down his former ally. The silence didn't last. Sirens began to swell in the distance closing in from every direction.
Drago moved first. He lunged straight at 23 without hesitation. They collided bare fists meeting in close quarters. The sound of flesh slamming into flesh echoed violently, their strikes and counters unfolding at speeds no normal human could follow.
And yet, No matter how brutal the exchange became, every wound they inflicted healed instantly erasing itself in the blink of an eye.
"Tch."
23 clicked his tongue, stepping back to reset his stance.
"Had to be you… the worst one to deal with."
"What's that supposed to mean? You're just like me, aren't you?"
Drago raised a brow, flicking blood off his knuckles, eyes gleaming with excitement.
"Not even close."
23 replied coldly and surged forward again. The clash resumed, fiercer than before. Each impact sent shock through the ground until the concrete beneath them began to crumble under the sheer force of their blows.
.....
Edward clenched his teeth and ran for his life, Alicia right on his heels. There was no way he could outrun her, not with the limits of a normal human. But even at a disadvantage, Edward had something she didn't.
He knew this place. And he used it. He cut through complex routes without hesitation darting across the main stairwell, slipping into narrow corridors, bursting through empty rooms before vaulting out onto the exterior balcony, then climbing like a madman between the fire escapes along the outside of the building.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
His footsteps rang out against the rattling steel framework of the fire escape. The erratic movement made it harder for Alicia to close the distance cleanly. Her physical advantage began to slip neutralized by the concrete maze Edward knew like the back of his hand.
"Stop! I said stop!"
Alicia's voice echoed from above. Edward didn't look back. Not even once.
.....
Shhk! Shhk!
23 slashed forward with twin blades at blinding speed. Steel carved through Drago's skin, opening dozens of ragged wounds, and just as quickly, they sealed.
Drago only parried what he had to. The rest, he took head-on trading flesh for timing, searching for a gap in his former ally's bladework.
Surrounded by ordinary officers, and a growing crowd drawn in by the chaos, Drago saw his moment.
He caught both of 23's wrists. With overwhelming force, he drove him back slamming him into a concrete wall, dust erupting on impact. In the same motion, he ripped the knives free and drove them deep into the wall. Pinning them in a cross. 23's throat locked between the blades.
"If you're not afraid of losing your head… go ahead. Try."
Drago's voice dropped, eyes drilling into the flicker of hesitation in 23's gaze.
"Oh… wait. Forgot something."
A faint, mocking grin.
"If your neck goes… you're done, 23."
He left the taunt hanging, then broke away.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gunfire erupted behind him as he dashed through the haze of smoke and muzzle flash, cutting toward the corner of the building. Right as Edward dropped down from the final fire escape, landing on the ground. They came face to face. In the middle of chaos.
"What now?!"
Edward shouted over the wailing sirens flooding the district.
"Right on time…"
Drago muttered, eyes fixed on the road ahead.
Screeeech!
Out of nowhere, a massive lifted pickup, towering on oversized off-road tires, skidded sideways into their path, kicking up a storm of dust. The driver's window slid down. A woman leaned out, voice cutting through the chaos.
"Move! Now!"
Drago didn't hesitate. He grabbed Edward by the collar and hurled him into the truck bed, then vaulted in right after him.
VROOOOM!
The V8 engine roared to life. The truck surged forward like a beast unleashed plowing through anything in its way, barreling straight toward the massive checkpoint gate leading out of the dome. And it didn't slow down. If anything, it was accelerating.
"That's a gate!"
Edward yelled, panic breaking through.
What stood ahead wasn't some flimsy plastic barrier. It was a massive concrete wall. A fortress dividing the civilization inside the dome… from the toxic hell beyond.
Beep!
A sharp alert cut through the roar of the engine.
"Relax, kid."
The driver said calmly, then slammed her hand onto a metal switch on the steering wheel.
Beep!
Two projectiles shot forward, tearing through the air straight toward the dome gate.
BOOOOM!
The explosion hit like a shockwave through bone. The structure cracked deep fractures ripping across the massive barrier. She floored it. The pickup roared forward, charging straight into the rupture.
CRASH!
The truck burst through. Out into the Outlands in an instant. And then, disaster.
A tidal wave of dust and toxic air surged in through the breach like a dam collapsing. Poisoned wind flooded the district as people scattered in panic running, coughing, screaming.
Some managed to throw on dust masks in time. Others had nothing. Not even a scrap of cloth to cover their faces. The chaos forced the pursuing Public Order units to halt diverting immediately to contain the atmospheric breach. And just like that, the pickup vanished into the orange haze. Leaving nothing behind… but ruin.