Location: Hidden U.S. Military Blacksite – Undisclosed Coordinates
Boom!
A concussive shockwave detonated through the underground training complex, a spiderweb of cracks fracturing the reinforced alloy walls. Dust rained from the ceiling. The metallic groan of warping steel echoed like a death knell.
At the center of the devastation stood Warden Silas.
His chest rose and fell slowly, rhythmically. His body was altered now—augmented with cybernetics laced through flesh and bone, wrapped in a bleeding-edge black exosuit pulsing with electric veins of red energy. The air around him buzzed with residual kinetic force. His eyes were colder than ever—emotionless, calculating.
A slow clap echoed from the observation room.
"Excellent, Warden Silas," said a decorated general in a black ops uniform. His ribbons and medals glinted under the harsh white lights. He stood next to a group of scientists monitoring energy outputs.
One of the researchers, face pale and sweating, leaned forward. "Sir, the augmentation has pushed his strength output by 118%. Neural calibration is holding. Response time is... flawless."
Silas turned his head slightly. "I feel more complete than I ever was."
"Good," the general replied, handing him a small folder. Inside, three images were clipped—mutants, faces crossed in red ink.
"Your assignment is not the prisoners. Not yet. You're hunting these ones—mutant insurgents. The higher-ups don't care if it's alive or dead. Just... make it brutal. Make it loud."
Silas didn't blink. "Understood."
Location: Occupied Military Base – Former Radar Control Station Echo-9
Inside a dimly-lit command center, three mutant rebels huddled over a digital projection map.
"If we take this place, we'll have control over the communication uplink across the valley. We can expand our influence," said one, a wiry man with tattoos crawling up his throat.
"It's high risk," said a woman with glowing green irises. "Intel says this site's been off-grid for years, but that could mean anything."
"It's worth it," said the third, a muscular man with a scarred face. "Fifty have already joined us. This could push us to 120."
Alarms blared.
"What the hell?!"
"Breach detected. West corridor. No ID tags—system's calling it hostile."
Boom.
The steel blast doors were torn off their hinges, crashing like thunder.
Warden Silas had arrived.
The rebels readied themselves as Silas entered through a haze of smoke, stepping over the sparking remains of the base's automated turrets.
"You think you can take this place?" one of the mutants snarled, manifesting orange magma across his arms. "I'll fucking kill you!" He slammed the ground, sending up a wave of lava.
Silas sidestepped without effort, gliding with eerie precision. The molten wave singed the walls but didn't come close.
Another rebel screamed and transformed—fur sprouting, claws sharpening, a hulking tiger-man charging forward. The third's eyes turned black, his arms exuding smoke that coiled and sharpened into spectral weapons.
Silas didn't flinch.
The tiger mutant roared and pounced.
Silas ducked under the first swipe, his fist crashing into the creature's ribs. Bones shattered like glass. As the beast reeled, Silas seized its neck and snapped it with one clean twist.
One down.
The smokewielder lashed out with a blade of shadowy matter, slicing through the air. Silas took a glancing hit—his exosuit absorbed most of it. He surged forward, catching the mutant mid-swing, and drove a serrated blade from his gauntlet straight through the man's gut.
"Does it hurt?" Silas asked, twisting the blade.
The mutant coughed blood.
"I hope so."
He ripped the blade free, letting the body slump into the pooling blood.
The lava mutant was screaming, slamming magma fists into the floor and walls. The air shimmered with heat. He hurled a superheated spear of molten earth at Silas.
Silas punched it—and it shattered.
He closed the gap in one blink, ducked a haymaker of lava, and jammed an electro-blade under the mutant's chin. The electricity flared—and the head exploded.
His boots crunched on charred bone and burned metal.
He was covered in gore, smoke curling off his armor.
Silas tapped his earpiece.
"Target base neutralized. Zero survivors."
A pause.
"Next up… Adrian."
His voice was quiet, but filled with rage.
He stepped into the night, leaving a trail of blood behind him.