Jophiel was smiling. For the first time in a long while, she could breathe without fear.
— "See ? Told you it'd feel good," said Annabelle, lying nearby with her eyes half-closed.
Jophiel shut her eyes, savoring the calm. She wished Dante could've been there with them.
But lately, all they had were a few quick phone calls—her big brother was apparently busy.
Suddenly, a glass shattered in Annabelle's hand.
— "Down!" someone yelled.
The walls cracked open, masked men burst in, armed with rifles.
They opened fire. In less than a second, the water turned red with blood.
An employee was riddled with bullets, her body flung against the wall.
Another tried to run but slipped on the wet stone.
— "Mom!" Jophiel screamed as she dove underwater.
She hid beneath the surface, bullets slicing through the water above.
A body sank beside her, eyes wide open—dead.
She surfaced, gasping for air, and was instantly seized by a man who dragged her out.
She screamed, scratched, bit—but it was no use.
Annabelle was dragged off too.
Jophiel heard her mother's jaw crack.
They were bound together, gagged, and thrown to the ground.
The attackers said nothing, they were just executing orders and eliminating anyone who resisted.
One masked man approached with a walkie-talkie.
— "Priority confirmed," he said. "Prep them for transport."
Jophiel tried to scream, to beg—but a black bag was shoved over her head.
---
When she woke up, the room was small and dimly lit by a single swinging bulb.
Jophiel, blood on her lips, sat upright in a chair she was tied to.
They'd beaten her—but she hadn't spoken a word.
Next to her, Annabelle Edwin was breathing hard, her face swollen and bruised, but still proud.
They'd started with her, thinking breaking the mother would break the daughter. They'd failed.
A man approached—tall, angry eyes. One of Rowen Caledron's dogs.
— "You know," he said, waving a vial, "this stuff'll drop you into a dream where nothing hurts, just love. Don't you want that honey ?"
She didn't respond. She stared blankly at the ceiling, refusing even to look at him.
— "Tch… stupid brat," he growled.
He motioned to two others, one held a syringe.
Jophiel thrashed as they approached. Despite the restraints, she headbutted one of them, shattering his nose.
The man screamed and stumbled back, cursing, and the other slapped her hard.
Her head slammed against the chair. Still, she didn't scream.
— "Hold her down!" someone barked.
They managed to inject her with a first dose.
Her heart thundered in her chest—she thought it might burst—but she bit down on her tongue hard enough to bleed, anything to stay conscious.
— "She's resisting... Fuck, she's still fighting it!"
Annabelle opened her eyes. Her voice was ragged, but calm.
— "You have no idea what you're doing. Break her, and you'll unleash something far worse than either of us."
— "Shut up, you old hag!" one of them snapped, punching her in the gut.
She spat blood… then smiled.
That smile sent a chill through the mens.
— "Rowen will dies tonight. And with him, the whole Caledron bloodline. Why keep pushing ?"
Between dizzy spells, Jophiel snapped back to awareness.
She raised her head and looked one of the men straight in the eye. Something in her gaze made him step bac.
They tried again and again. Syringes, blows, electric shocks.
Jophiel screamed at times—but never surrendered.
She didn't beg. She didn't cry, and eventually, they stopped.
— "She's done. Completely broken… but not the way we wanted."
Their leader stared at her, then at Annabelle.
The Caledron family was breathing its last days. And for all his cruelty, he couldn't bring himself to force drugs into a mother and child.
Besides… he feared Dante. That demon in a teenager's body.
— "Lock them up. If Rowen wants to break them, he can do it himself. I've got nothing left for them but a bullet."
They walked away, leaving the two women in the dark.
---
The car slowed infront of the building.
— "We're here," said Max Payne.
His voice crackled, altered by the thoracic implant that filtered his breathing.
Lexie tightened her grip on her weapon. She wasn't shaking, but she avoided the glass—too afraid she'd catch a glimpse of something monstrous.
— "Weak signals," Nash muttered from his portable console. "But there's two... human, stationary, building 17-D."
They moved in formation. Nash in the rear, Lexie in the middle, Max up front.
— "No sound," Max ordered.
He drew a blade embedded in his cybernetic forearm.
Building 17-D—an old meat warehouse.
Meat hooks still dangled from the ceiling. Some carried remains—human.
Lexie stepped in first.
— "...This isn't some mafia. It's… something else."
Her breath was quickening. Symbols covered the walls, black on black, as if corruption had learned to write.
Nash stayed at the door, deploying mini-drones. Three out of five were crushed the moment they crossed the threshold.
A long, inhuman groan, thick with wetness.
Something dropped from the ceiling.
A mutant—stitched together from flesh and metal—lunged at Max.
He barely turned in time—an bone needle strike his left arm.
Lexie fired three shots into its skull, nothing. It kept moving. A snake-tongue lashed from its mouth.
Nash throws an electric grenade into the creature's maw, paralyzing it.
Despite the pain, Max drove his blade into its eye. The thing exploded in a burst of sizzling flesh.
— "We keep moving."
They descended basement 1, then 2, then deeper still. Suddenly, Lexie froze, she'd heard something.
— "…mmmh…hel...p…"
— "It's them!" she scream.
A locked door, and behind it, on their knees—beaten—Jophiel and Annabelle, unconscious but alive.
Max rushed forward and unlocked their restraints using his implants.
But then… they all felt it. Something behind them.