The lab burned behind them—its ruins vomiting smoke into the sky like a funeral pyre for secrets. Ethan didn't look back. There was no time for regrets. Only consequences.
He limped forward, his coat soaked with rain and blood, one hand gripping Mara's arm. She coughed violently, covered in ash, face pale beneath the grime.
"You okay?" he asked, voice ragged.
"I've been better," she rasped. "But we're not dead. So that's something."
They staggered down an alley and into a forgotten underpass where the city's arteries bled darkness. No cameras. No eyes. For now.
Ethan slumped against the wall, exhaling as pain caught up with him. His ribs screamed from the earlier blast, his head throbbed from the impact, and adrenaline no longer masked the damage.
Mara sat beside him, opening her tablet with shaking hands.
"The backups survived," she said quietly. "I still have the data from the lab—everything Pulse was working on. It's ugly."
"Show me."
The screen lit up, and there it was—files tagged with chilling names: "Emotion Suppression Protocol," "Stressor Amplification Matrix," "Subject Stability Degradation."
They weren't just manipulating people.
They were turning trauma into a weapon.
"Someone funded this," Ethan muttered. "Someone powerful."
Mara nodded. "And not just Pulse. He's a lunatic with vision, but this operation was surgical. Militarized."
"Then we dig," Ethan said. "And we burn."
But even as the words left his mouth, he felt the shift in the air—like they were being watched. Hunted.
And they were.
Elsewhere, inside a sleek black van parked in the industrial zone, a woman stared at multiple monitors. Her short-cropped hair was steel gray. Eyes like a hawk. She spoke into a radio.
"They survived. Target is adapting faster than predicted."
"Orders?" came the reply.
She hesitated.
"Observe. For now."
This woman wasn't Pulse. She wasn't chaos.
She was something worse—precision.Her name was Valeria Kade. Codename: Nyx.And she was about to enter the game.
Midnight.
Ethan stood on the roof of a half-demolished tenement, staring down at the city below. Every flickering light, every siren in the distance—it was a reminder of what he was fighting for.
And what he'd already lost.
Mara approached with a steaming cup of instant coffee. She handed it to him without a word and leaned on the ledge beside him.
"You don't sleep much, do you?"
"Sleep's a luxury," Ethan said. "One I can't afford."
There was silence between them for a moment.
Then Mara said softly, "You never talk about your wife."
Ethan's jaw clenched. "Nothing to say."
"I think there's a lot you don't say."
He looked at her then—really looked. In her eyes, he didn't see pity. Just understanding. Pain meeting pain.
"Her name was Lena," he said at last. "She was the only person who ever made me believe I could be something more than a machine. I buried that man years ago. But now… I can't stop digging him up."
Mara reached over and gently touched his hand. "Maybe you're not supposed to bury him."
Their moment was shattered by a sudden explosion several blocks away.
Orange flames danced against the night sky.
Then the emergency scanner on Mara's tablet screamed to life:"Hostage situation. Civilian block. Multiple armed suspects. No response from police. Suspected Halcyon-affiliated unit."
Ethan's eyes narrowed.
"Looks like Pulse is back."
The building was a low-income housing complex—families, elderly, kids. A war zone now.
Dozens of people had been herded into the community center on the ground floor. Armed men patrolled with cold efficiency. At their center stood a brute of a man—tall, cybernetic implants snaking down one arm, a glowing pulse generator on his chest.
"His name's Magnus," Mara whispered through the comms. "Ex-military. Now Pulse's enforcer."
"And the people?"
"They rigged the place. One move and they all go up."
Ethan's breath was steady, but his heart roared.
"Then I don't make a move," he muttered. "I make a statement."
The entry was chaos.
Smoke bombs. Precision strikes. Mara hacking into their comms, feeding them false locations and delays. Ethan moved like a ghost, tearing through mercs before they knew he was even there.
Magnus was waiting.
"I heard you were tough," he growled, stepping forward, fists glowing with kinetic energy. "But I don't see much."
Ethan's smirk was grim.
"Then look closer."
They clashed like titans. Steel against fury. Magnus had strength, tech-enhanced speed—but Ethan had purpose. And rage.
The fight was brutal. Walls cracked. Blood sprayed. Mara's voice kept cutting through:"Disarming the detonators. Hold him off!"
Ethan didn't hold back. He fought like a man who had nothing left to lose.
Until Magnus fell—crushed beneath a fallen beam, still twitching.
When the hostages were free, when the building was secure, Ethan stood outside as dawn broke.Ash drifted from the sky like snowfall.
Mara came up beside him, bandaging a wound on his side.
"You're gonna get yourself killed," she whispered.
He looked at her, tired but calm.
"Not until I finish this."
Far away, in the dark, Pulse watched the footage through encrypted feeds.
And beside him stood the grinning figure in shadows—smiling, watching Ethan with twisted fascination.
"Let him fight," Joker murmured. "The deeper he goes, the more delicious the break will be."
Pulse said nothing.
But somewhere in the files stolen from the warehouse, a name glowed quietly on Mara's screen…
"Nyx – Operative Priority Level: Alpha."
And the real hunt was only just beginning.