Zoldic's encounter with Lord Gorrel was an unexpected rescue—at least for Lord Gorrel himself. Their secret bunker, once hidden deep within the Borealis Bay, had been reduced to ashes. Nothing remained but rubble and dust. Most of his subordinates had been captured and sent to the Gukata mining fields, enslaved for metal extraction.
"We must head to the Lortik Sea immediately," said Lord Gorrel sharply, his eyes gleaming like blades. "Fortunately, you brought the W2 supersonic jet. Prepare yourself."
Zoldic frowned, barely setting foot in this shattered world, only to be dragged off once again into the unknown.
"The Lortik Sea? What kind of base is that supposed to be?" he asked, puzzled.
"It's one of Krypton Magnum's main outposts. We need to send a warning at once—there's a traitor within our ranks."
Zoldic went silent. The word "traitor" echoed strangely in his mind."I haven't received any intel from Zereka," he muttered, eyes narrowing as he studied Gorrel."But... can we find her first? I don't even know if she's still alive."
There was tension in his voice. Worry. Something that resembled... care.
"Zereka is most likely dead," Gorrel said coldly, without hesitation. "Or, if she's lucky, she's been taken prisoner. But alive? That's almost impossible. The hunters show no mercy."
Zoldic stiffened. "What do you mean? If she's dead... does that mean I can't return?"
Lord Gorrel let out a bitter, sarcastic laugh. "Return? Return where, Zoldic? You're her creation. She told me herself—your body was built using a consciousness core from a living creature. Organic matter fused with machine. Half-beast, half-metal."
Zoldic froze. All this time, he believed himself to be unique, special, maybe even... human in a mechanical form. But Gorrel's words stripped away every illusion.
"So… Zereka created me from… an animal?" he whispered.
"That's right," Gorrel replied, unlocking a large biometric-sealed metal crate. "And she asked me to prepare custom weaponry for you. Tailored to your core instincts—the drive to attack, survive, and kill."
The crate hissed open with a hydraulic sigh. Inside was a complete combat set: a double-edged plasma sword, a pair of adaptive-grip laser pistols, and a wing frame forged from aero-titanium fibers.
"Zereka sent me your schematics two months ago. Everything here has been calibrated to fuse with your system seamlessly," Gorrel said.
Without the need for manual activation, the equipment locked into Zoldic's frame as if it had always been a missing part of him. It felt like something lost had finally returned.
But before he could process it all, a signal rang through Zoldic's internal comm system.
Tit-tik-tik.
Zereka stood in the narrow corridor of Protem Bexxton's main base, eyes locked onto the central screen displaying the face of a traitor.
Lord Gorrel.
She had once trusted him. Now he stood tall as one of the high councilors of Protem Bexxton, shoulder to shoulder with Bostok. Every rebel hiding place had been handed to him—and now, they were nothing but names on a kill list.
Zoldic had become a puppet. Frozen mode activated. No will, no autonomy. A war machine in the enemy's hands. His true consciousness—Anders—trapped in the deep recesses of old memories, asleep.
From the Protem Bexxton headquarters, a massive fleet launched toward the Lortik Sea. Their mission: to destroy Krypton Magnum's central base, hidden among steep cliffs and underwater caverns beyond the reach of conventional radar.
Twenty thousand war machines.
Heavy artillery. Crawler tanks. Sniper drones. And a full squadron of G-Class assault jets. All moving as one unstoppable wave of death.
But unknown to them all, Zereka was among them—disguised as a field technician in one of the combat units.
The forces of Krypton Magnum had carved their headquarters into the crevices of ancient sea caves. They were armed with whatever they could scavenge—manual plasma launchers, energy bows, and homemade electromagnetic grenades.
Though it was called a headquarters, the place served more as a refuge for survivors and rebels. It lacked the sleek, high-tech systems of elite bunkers. Instead, it was a gathering ground for the desperate and defiant.
But their spirit burned fiercely. Their eyes were sharp. And their blood ran thick with resolve: survive, or perish.
When the first wave of Protem Bexxton's assault struck, the skies over Lortik lit up with streaks of laser fire and thunderous missile blasts. Cliffs crumbled. Caves ignited. Yet the rebels did not retreat.
They stormed out with wild courage—ambushing from behind rocks, slicing the legs off war machines, and blowing up heavy tanks with improvised charges.
Suddenly—
"BOOOOM!"
A massive explosion rocked the rear flank of the fleet. Several fighter jets burst into flames midair—split in half, tumbling like meteors into the sea.
A mysterious pilot had sabotaged their formation from within.
"Lord, we have an intruder in our fleet!" Bostok shouted over the central comms. "Fighter G23 has switched to manual mode. We've lost control—cameras offline!"
Lord Gorrel stood frozen in disbelief."Who is it?!"
Then, one of the main monitors flickered to life. The camera aboard the G23 jet activated.
Zereka's face filled the screen.
Her eyes were cold. Her gaze—sharp with vengeance. Her voice cut through the control room like a blade.
"Good evening, Lord Gorrel. Traitors like you don't deserve to live. You sold us all out. And now... I'm here to end this."
The screen went dark.
"She's… alive?!" Gorrel clenched his jaw. "Bostok! Kill her! Send every air unit!"
But before the command could even be completed, a massive explosion ripped through the command center's floor. Flames erupted. Servers were engulfed. Protem Bexxton's control hub was no more.
In the sky, Zereka and Bostok clashed in a supersonic duel. The G23 jet soared at hypersonic speed, diving and weaving through enemy formations with ruthless precision. Bostok's craft, a C-Alpha X9, engaged in full pursuit mode.
Heat-seeking missiles launched.
Zereka spun her jet through tight arcs, evading fire, counterattacking with plasma cannons stolen from their own base.
Their aerial battle was a dance of death—across a sky blazing red, lit by artificial lightning and erupting explosions.
Bostok pulled a sharp loop.
Zereka dove, twisted into a 720-degree spiral, then fired an EMP pulse round straight into Bostok's rear engine.
"BOOOM!"
Bostok was thrown off course—but it wasn't over. He ejected mid-air, activating his personal battle armor to chase Zereka directly.
They fought in the sky—two shadowy figures locked in aerial combat.
Zereka's fist slammed into Bostok's helmet, followed by a spinning kick. Bostok blocked with his armored gauntlet and hurled a plasma dagger.
Zereka caught it mid-air, spun it in her grip, and drove it deep into Bostok's abdomen.
"You're nothing now," she whispered.
Below them, the Krypton Magnum forces were starting to falter.
From the sky, a winged figure descended like a black comet—Zoldic.
But he was no longer a man. He was a monster. Soulless. Fully controlled by a chip forged by Gorrel.
His aero-titanium wings spread wide, twin plasma blades ignited, and laser pistols flared from both hands. He dove like a god of war, obliterating everything in his path.
One slash—five fighters fell.
One shot—a blast leveled two barricades.
Zoldic didn't speak. Didn't think. He executed, nothing more.
But deep within, Anders began to stir.Something felt… off.The wounds on the bodies he struck, the screams of those who fell, one by one… they began to awaken fragments of human memory.
Zereka's voice.Her laughter.The scent of scorched metal in the air.Fear. Rage.Humanity.
In a single moment, Zoldic stopped.Frozen in place.
His robotic eyes flickered.
Old memories began to resurface.
But it wasn't enough.
Not yet.
Not until he saw Zereka fall—shot in the shoulder by a dying Bostok, tumbling toward the edge of the cliff.
And in that instant... something inside Zoldic exploded.