Dinner time had arrived.
Normally, this was the only interruption in the prison's endless cycle of routines. Guards would deliver food, prisoners would eat in silence, and another uneventful day would continue.
Today was different.
Luke and Canta waited inside their cells, expecting the usual delivery. Minutes passed, yet no food arrived.
Then an announcement echoed through every corridor.
"Attention all guards. Every guard is requested to assemble in the main hall immediately. No exceptions are allowed."
The voice faded, leaving an uneasy silence behind.
Aron listened carefully.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
It's starting.
Doors opened throughout the facility as guards emerged from every direction. Footsteps filled the corridors as they hurried toward the main hall.
Aron blended into the crowd and began moving with them.
As he turned a corner, he deliberately slammed into a guard.
The collision sent both of them crashing to the floor.
The guard stood first, visibly irritated.
Without hesitation, he grabbed Aron by the collar and shoved him against the wall.
"Watch where you're going and get to the main hall."
The guard turned and continued walking.
For a brief moment, Aron's eyes remained fixed on the keys hanging from the man's belt.
The announcement sounded again.
"All remaining guards who have not reached the main hall are requested to report immediately."
The corridor became more crowded.
Perfect.
As people pushed past one another, Aron slipped forward and quietly removed the key ring from the guard's belt.
The guard never noticed.
Aron watched him disappear around the corner.
Much easier than expected.
Without wasting another second, he turned and headed in the opposite direction.
The main hall was overflowing with guards.
Hundreds stood assembled in orderly rows.
At the elevated platform stood the organization's most important figures.
Sam.
Andrew, known among many as the Truth Guy.
Rabasa.
Rodon.
Erina.
Then another figure emerged from behind them.
The atmosphere changed instantly.
He wasn't particularly tall. His head was completely bald, and his round face appeared surprisingly ordinary. Yet his black eyes seemed to absorb every bit of warmth around them.
Silence spread through the room.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
This was John.
The founder of Ferk.
Very little was known about him. Even his occupation outside the organization remained unknown.
Despite his ordinary appearance, his presence felt overwhelming.
As if something dangerous had entered the room.
John looked toward Sam.
"Is the product complete?"
"Yes, sir."
A guard stepped forward carrying a container filled with capsules.
The pills were distributed among the assembled guards.
One by one.
Row by row.
The process continued until every guard appeared to have received one.
Then everyone noticed something.
One capsule remained.
Sam frowned.
Rabasa's eyes narrowed.
The count should have been exact.
He stepped forward.
His voice remained calm.
"Who's missing?"
The guards exchanged glances.
The answer arrived almost immediately.
"Aron."
For the briefest moment, Erina felt something twist inside her chest.
Concern.
Suspicion.
Disappointment.
She quickly buried the feeling beneath a neutral expression.
John simply looked at the remaining capsule.
Then he spoke.
"Take the pills."
A wave of hesitation spread through the crowd.
Nobody knew exactly what the capsules contained.
Yet nobody dared refuse.
Rodon glanced toward Sam.
A grin appeared on his face.
"Sam, are you absolutely sure this won't create a sudden need for a morgue?"
A few nearby guards looked uncomfortable.
Sam didn't even smile.
"Quite sure."
"That's reassuring," Rodon replied. "Somehow not reassuring enough."
John ignored the exchange.
One by one, the guards swallowed their pills.
Ten seconds passed.
Nothing happened.
Then the pain arrived.
Hundreds of guards suddenly clutched their heads.
Screams echoed through the hall.
Bodies collapsed onto the floor.
Many lost their balance and crashed into one another.
The entire room descended into chaos.
Rodon watched the scene carefully.
"Well," he muttered, "still no morgue."
Sam adjusted his glasses.
"It is functioning exactly as intended."
The agony continued for nearly two minutes.
Then it stopped.
An unnatural silence settled across the hall.
One by one, the guards stood up.
Something had changed.
Their movements felt mechanical.
Their eyes looked empty.
Fear was gone.
Doubt was gone.
Emotion itself seemed absent.
They stood silently, awaiting orders.
Like puppets waiting for strings to be pulled.
John surveyed the room.
Satisfied.
"Find Aron."
Immediately, hundreds of guards turned and began moving.
Meanwhile, Aron sprinted through the prison corridors.
The stolen keys rattled inside his hand.
Time was running out.
He reached Luke and Canta's cells first.
The locks clicked open.
Neither prisoner had time to ask questions.
Aron shoved a folded map into Canta's hands.
"Follow the hallway. Turn right. Then left. Follow the route marked on the map."
"What about you?" Luke asked.
"No time."
Aron was already moving.
He rushed toward Rei's cell.
The metal door opened.
Rei stepped forward.
For a moment neither of them spoke.
Rei immediately sensed that something was wrong.
The tension in Aron's face told him everything.
"We're leaving," Aron said.
A brief hesitation appeared in Rei's eyes.
Not because he feared escape.
Because it suddenly felt real.
For weeks the idea had existed only as a plan.
A possibility.
Now the moment had arrived.
Failure would mean death.
Success would change everything.
The hesitation lasted only a second.
Then Rei nodded.
"Let's go."
They began running through the corridors.
As they moved, Rei noticed a folded map sticking out from Aron's pocket.
"Show me."
Aron handed it over without slowing down.
Rei studied it while running.
The route became clear almost instantly.
His eyes narrowed.
"The control room."
"Yes."
"The jammer is there."
Aron nodded.
The prison's communication jammer prevented contact with the outside world. As long as it remained active, any escape would be temporary.
Rei folded the map.
His expression grew serious.
"Can you disable it?"
This time Aron answered without hesitation.
"Yes."
The confidence in his voice caught Rei's attention.
For the first time since meeting him, Aron sounded absolutely certain.
Rei looked ahead toward the endless corridor stretching before them.
A thought quietly formed in his mind.
Then his role ends there.
Behind them, somewhere within the prison, hundreds of emotionless guards had already begun the hunt.
And with every passing second, the distance between hunter and prey continued to shrink.
---
Canta and Luke ran through the prison hallways.
Their footsteps echoed against the cold walls as they followed the route Aron had given them.
At least, Luke hoped they were following it correctly.
Canta's mind was in complete disarray.
Everything had happened too quickly.
One moment he had been sitting inside his cell, expecting another miserable meal. The next, Aron had appeared out of nowhere, unlocked the cell, handed them a map, and told them to run.
His thoughts felt sluggish.
Confused.
Almost numb.
He looked toward Luke.
"What exactly is happening?"
Luke didn't answer immediately.
He unfolded the map while running.
"Just keep moving."
According to the map, they needed to continue down the hallway, take a left turn, then a right turn before entering another corridor. Eventually they would reach a large gate.
The gate would supposedly be locked.
Their instructions were simple.
Hide inside one of the vehicles waiting beyond it.
Aron would somehow open the gate later.
At least that was the plan.
Luke stared at the map while running.
His breathing had become heavier.
The pressure was affecting him more than he realized.
Every distant sound felt threatening.
Every second felt valuable.
Without noticing it, he misread one of the directions.
He took a wrong turn.
Neither of them realized the mistake.
They continued running until the hallway abruptly ended.
Luke stopped.
Canta nearly crashed into him.
"What happened?"
Luke stared forward.
A dead end.
No gate.
No vehicles.
No escape route.
Only a massive industrial kitchen.
Rows of metal tables stretched across the room.
Large cooking pots hung from racks above.
Shelves filled with ingredients lined the walls.
For several seconds Luke simply stood there.
His heart sank.
The realization hit him immediately.
He had read the map incorrectly.
The tension had clouded his judgment.
His thoughts had become slower.
Less precise.
A mistake that normally would've been obvious had slipped past him.
"Damn."
Canta looked between the map and the kitchen.
"Are we lost?"
Before Luke could answer, another sound reached them.
Footsteps.
Distant.
But growing closer.
Both men froze.
The footsteps multiplied.
More than one person.
Luke's grip tightened around the map.
The guards.
They were searching.
His eyes quickly scanned the kitchen.
There was no time to find another route.
No time to correct their mistake.
Only one option remained.
"Inside."
"What?"
"The kitchen. Move."
Luke grabbed Canta's arm and pulled him deeper into the enormous room.
They hurried between rows of metal counters before finally crouching behind a stack of storage containers.
The footsteps continued approaching.
Luke held his breath.
Should they move?
Should they stay?
Every choice felt dangerous.
If they ran, they could be seen.
If they stayed, they could be discovered.
His mind spun through possibilities.
In the end only one decision remained.
Hide.
And hope.
Meanwhile, Aron and Rei moved through a different section of the prison.
Darkness surrounded them.
The emergency lights cast faint red shadows across the corridors.
Neither spoke.
Both focused entirely on reaching the jammer room.
Yet despite his determined expression, Aron could feel panic slowly spreading through his body.
His hands trembled.
His breathing felt uneven.
He hated it.
But he couldn't stop it.
Because beneath all his plans and calculations, one fact remained.
If he got captured now...
He would die.
Not imprisoned.
Not punished.
Killed.
The thought repeatedly forced its way into his mind.
Each time making his heartbeat faster.
Finally they reached a reinforced metal door.
"The jammer room."
Rei nodded.
Aron inserted the stolen keys.
The lock clicked.
The door opened.
Inside stood a massive communication antenna.
The machine occupied most of the room.
Cables stretched across the floor and walls.
Countless lights blinked along its metallic surface.
The device continuously emitted a low humming noise.
This was the prison's communication jammer.
The machine responsible for blocking every signal entering or leaving the facility.
Rei stared at it.
Then he looked toward Aron.
"Disable it."
His voice came out louder than intended.
His own nerves were beginning to surface.
For a brief moment a dangerous thought crossed Rei's mind.
If Aron succeeds...
His purpose ends here.
Mine begins.
The thought vanished as quickly as it appeared.
This wasn't the time.
Aron looked around the room.
Near the wall lay a discarded metal rod.
He picked it up.
Rei watched.
Then Aron swung.
CRASH.
The rod slammed directly into the antenna.
Sparks erupted.
The metal structure bent.
He struck it again.
And again.
And again.
The room filled with the sound of tearing metal.
Finally the antenna collapsed.
Several systems exploded in a shower of sparks.
The humming noise died instantly.
Silence replaced it.
Rei stared.
"I thought you knew how to disable a jammer."
Aron lowered the rod.
"The best way to disable something is to destroy it."
For the first time in several minutes, Rei almost smiled.
Almost.
Aron quickly pulled out his phone.
A signal appeared.
Both immediately understood what that meant.
The jammer was gone.
It had worked.
Then they heard footsteps.
Much closer than before.
The guards were coming.
"Run."
Neither needed convincing.
They rushed out of the room and sprinted through the corridors.
While running, Aron handed his phone to Rei.
"Contact the FBI."
Rei accepted it.
His fingers moved rapidly across the screen.
A moment later the call connected.
"Emergency services."
Rei took a breath.
"Hello. My name is Rei. I am currently enjoying my vacation at coordinates fifty-seven, sixty-eight, thirty-four."
The operator paused.
Then the line disconnected.
Aron looked at him.
"That's your secret code?"
"Yes."
"Strange code."
"It works."
Thousands of kilometers away, inside an FBI operations center, alarms immediately activated.
A large screen flashed red.
Several personnel turned toward it.
The commanding officer looked up from his desk.
He was an ordinary-looking man with average skin tone and average height. However, years of service had left him with a muscular build and a commanding presence.
He quickly reviewed the incoming report.
His expression changed.
"This is an emergency."
The room became silent.
"Deploy Squads Twenty-One and Twenty-Four immediately. Minister Rei has made contact."
Personnel rushed into action.
Then another voice interrupted.
"Sir."
A young analyst stood from her workstation.
"We received another transmission from the same location."
The general frowned.
"Another message from Minister Rei?"
"No, sir."
She looked uncomfortable.
"This one is a video."
The file opened.
An unfamiliar man appeared on the screen.
The FBI had never seen him before.
To them he was simply an unknown individual.
The man smiled calmly.
"Hello."
"I don't know whether Rei has contacted you or not. It doesn't really matter."
His smile widened.
"Because we're ending this world through bioterrorism."
The room became completely silent.
The man continued.
"Catch us if you can."
The video changed.
Footage appeared showing soldiers moving with cold, emotionless expressions.
Like machines.
Like puppets stripped of free will.
Then another image appeared.
A photograph of Rei.
The video ended.
The general slowly leaned back in his chair.
His head immediately filled with possibilities.
Bioterrorism.
Brainwashing.
A kidnapped minister.
An unknown organization.
All appearing at once.
Why now?
Why so suddenly?
After nearly a minute of thought, he made his decision.
"Deploy Squad One."
The room froze.
Even the analysts looked surprised.
Squad One was rarely used.
Only for the most dangerous operations.
At that moment, a figure stepped into the operations room.
A pale young man wearing loose clothing.
His build was thin.
Almost fragile.
Dark purple-black hair fell across his eyes.
He looked more like a sick college student than an elite operative.
Yet everyone recognized him.
A small smile appeared on his face.
"Thank you, sir."
His name was Insym.
And he had just been assigned to the mission.