Kai’s face was pressed against the cold ceramic tiles.
The surface smelled of heavy bleach and old iron.
Every shallow breath dragged a sharp, iron-heavy burn across the back of his throat.
His body was a broken machine.
His nervous system refused to transmit anything but pure, blinding agony.
Commands to move his legs vanished into a void of nerve damage and torn muscle.
But his hearing worked perfectly.
The heavy wooden door muffled the voices, but not the violence.
Heavy combat boots scrambled against the linoleum.
A body slammed hard into the drywall, sending a violent shudder through the floorboards right into Kai’s cheek.
“Walk.” “You’re hurting me!” Raina’s voice cracked.
It was thick with a terror that made Kai’s stomach twist violently.
He dug his bloody, shattered fingers into the tile grout.
Moving was easier said than done.
The simple action sent a flash of white heat behind his eyelids.
Gritting his teeth, Kai dragged his dead weight forward.
Just an inch.
His torn shoulder screamed in protest.
Then another inch.
A thick crimson smear followed him across the pristine floor, painting a miserable trail of his own failure.
Grandpa lay facedown and completely motionless on the corridor floor.
A dark pool of blood spread slowly from the back of his skull where the rifle had struck him.
An ARC operative, armored in matte black, dragged a thrashing Raina by the wrist toward the elevators.
Her sneakers squeaked frantically against the linoleum.
“Walk.” “You’re hurting me!” Raina’s voice cracked.
At the sound of her terrified cry, Grandpa’s thick fingers twitched.
His eyes snapped open.
He blinked heavily, entirely disoriented by the harsh fluorescent lights.
Then his gaze locked onto the black armor dragging his granddaughter away.
He didn’t hesitate.
Gritting his teeth, the old man planted his palms flat against the slick floor.
His thick arms shook violently, but he forced his chest upward.
He dragged himself onto his knees.
The operative didn’t even look back.
Using the corridor wall for support, Grandpa hauled his massive frame all the way upright.
A fresh stream of blood poured down the side of his weathered face, soaking into his collar.
His legs swayed under him.
But he let go of the wall anyway.
He took one heavy, uneven step directly into the operative’s path, blocking the hallway.
“Let her go.” Grandpa’s voice wasn’t a shout.
It was a guttural, dangerous rumble.
The operative finally stopped.
He looked at the bleeding old man with mild annoyance.
He raised his boot and kicked Grandpa squarely in the chest.
Thud.
A sickening impact of bone against drywall vibrated through the floorboards as Grandpa crashed backward into the wall.
“GRANDPA!” Raina screamed, kicking backward at the operative’s legs.
Grandpa slumped against the plaster.
But he didn’t fall.
He caught his balance at the last possible second.
The frail old man vanished.
Lowering his center, he planted his heavy boots wide.
He looked like a cornered bear.
“Take me instead.” He stepped right between the operative and the elevator, completely blocking the path.
The lead ARC officer stared at him.
Argument wasn’t necessary.
No further warnings were issued.
The man simply reached down to his tactical belt.
The metallic clack of the safety clicking off echoed down the sterile hallway.
Kai tried to force the door open wider.
Shouting was impossible.
Only a pathetic, broken wheeze scraped past his lips.
His vocal cords absolutely refused to work.
The officer aimed the black barrel directly at Grandpa’s chest.
“One last chance.
Old man, back off” “Or you simply tell us, where is your grandson?” Grandpa glanced back at Raina.
He met her terrified eyes for a fraction of a second.
Then his gaze returned straight down the barrel of the gun.
“He died when monsters attacked the shop, he was bedridden for his entire life, when the monster attacked he had nowhere to run.” The officer’s finger squeezed the trigger.
“Then you won’t mind joining him.” “Put that away.” The voice didn’t shout.
It didn’t need to.
The quiet command cut through the tension in the hallway like a physical blade.
Everyone froze.
The officer’s finger paused millimeters from firing.
Kai shifted his angle, pressing his face harder against the doorframe, peering through the crack.
A man stood at the far end of the corridor.
A long, immaculate black coat hung over his civilian clothes.
No armor or tactical gear was visible.
His hands rested casually in his pockets.
He looked completely out of place in a warzone hospital, yet the space around him seemed to warp under an invisible, crushing weight.
The moment the ARC officer saw him, the smug superiority vanished.
It was instantly replaced by something else.
Extreme caution.
“…Voss.” Voss didn’t stop walking.
His polished shoes clicked softly against the linoleum.
Click.
Click.
Click.
“The Federation brass has been sniffing around like dogs waiting for your debriefing,” the officer said, his tone turning sharp.
“You were the only Apex Sentinel on the grid in Sector 135.
We know you fought the anomaly.
Where the hell have you been?” Voss didn’t answer.
He slowly pulled his hands out of his coat pockets.
His fingers flexed once, then hung loosely at his sides.
His posture was incredibly relaxed.
No combat stance.
No raised fists.
But his eyes locked dead onto the gun.
Through the crack in the door, a cold chill crawled up Kai’s spine.
He had survived enough brutal fights to recognize the body language.
Voss wasn’t trying to calm the situation down.
He was waiting.
Baiting the officer.
The man in the black coat actually wanted the ARC leader to make a mistake.
If Silas twitched that trigger finger even a fraction of an inch, Kai knew without a doubt that Voss was going to slaughter the entire squad right there in the hallway.
“I asked you a question,” Silas demanded.
“And I told you to holster the weapon, Silas,” Voss said quietly.
The officer—Silas—stiffened.
His grip tightened on the gun.
“This is ARC jurisdiction.
We are tracking a Feral Hunter.
The one you failed to contain.” “No,” Voss answered instantly.
“You’re investigating a misunderstanding.” Silas shifted his weight, clearly agitated by Voss’s total lack of respect.
“Choose your words carefully.
The Federation wants to know exactly what happened to the entity.” “The anomaly you are looking for is dead.” A heavy silence dropped over the hallway.
Kai stopped breathing.
“What?” Silas frowned.
A flicker of doubt crossed his face.
“You seem very certain.” “I am.” “How?” Voss held the man’s gaze, looking deeply disappointed that Silas hadn’t raised the gun again.
“Because I killed it.” Nobody moved.
Silas didn’t laugh.
Even through the crack in the door, Kai could see the ARC officer’s face tighten.
Everyone in the Federation knew exactly what an Apex Sentinel was capable of.
“I don’t doubt your strength, Voss,” Silas said slowly.
His dark eyes narrowed with deep, calculating suspicion.
“I doubt your story.
A sector-level anomaly appears out of nowhere, and you expect me to believe you eliminated it so perfectly that it didn’t leave a single trace behind?” “I don’t claim things I haven’t done,” Voss replied.
His voice was entirely flat.
“Actions speak louder than words.
I delivered the final blow right as the dimensional rift was collapsing beneath it.” “So it fell into the rift.” “Correct.” Silas sneered.
“Then you cannot confirm its death.
First come, first served, Voss.
Nobody, no proof.” Voss didn’t smile.
The temperature in the hallway seemed to drop ten degrees.
“I used the same resonance technique I use when executing heavy-class Riftborn.” His voice dropped to a quiet, terrifying register.
Voss steps closer.
“And you know, It doesn’t leave survivors.
Ever.” Silas swallowed hard.
Adam’s apple bobbed.
“I saw it up close.
No face.
Unidentified energy signature.
It was a monster.” Voss looked straight into his eyes.
“You’ve built an entire federal investigation around a ghost you can’t identify, can’t track, and can’t prove survived.” Gesturing vaguely toward Grandpa, Voss never broke eye contact with the silas.
“And now you’re waving a gun at civilians because you think they know something.
Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.
The Federation relies on public trust.
You pull a trigger here, and that trust evaporates.” Silas didn’t have an answer.
He looked at Voss.
He looked at the bleeding old man leaning against the drywall.
Finally, he holstered his weapon.
The click signaled a total retreat.
“This isn’t over,” the officer muttered.
“It rarely is,” Voss replied smoothly.
“But for tonight, you’re done.” A sharp hand signal was given.
The operative released Raina’s wrist immediately.
She scrambled backward.
The tactical squad turned and marched toward the elevators without another word.
The doors slid shut.
Out of sight, out of mind.
They were gone.
⋙ ──── ✦ ──── ⋘ The moment the elevator numbers began to drop, Grandpa’s knees gave out completely.
He didn’t hit the floor.
Voss stepped forward in a blur of motion.
Catching the heavy old man by the shoulder, he eased him gently down the wall.
“Grandpa!” Raina scrambled forward.
She threw her arms around his waist, burying her face in his shirt.
“I’m fine.” Grandpa wheezed.
He patted her hair with a violently shaking hand.
Blood continued to drip from his chin, staining his collar.
Voss inspected the deep gash on his head.
“You need a doctor.” Grandpa swatted Voss’s hand away.
Tilting his head, he stared up at the man in the black coat.
“Why did you help us?” An immediate answer didn’t come.
Voss glanced toward the closed elevator doors, his expression entirely unreadable.
“Because I know exactly what those people do when they decide someone is guilty.
A picture is worth a thousand words, and they were painting a very ugly one.” Voss slowly turned his head.
He looked straight at the cracked hospital door.
Straight at Kai.
Kai was still lying in a pool of his own blood.
His fingers gripped the doorframe tightly to keep it open.
His vision tunneled rapidly into darkness.
Voss sighed.
Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a small silver comms device.
“Get a medical trauma team to this wing.
Now.” ⋙ ──── ✦ ──── ⋘ The rest of the night passed in a violent blur of blinding lights, shouting nurses, and the sharp sting of medical needles.
Kai drifted in and out of consciousness.
The pain was a living thing, chewing actively on his bones.
Doctors yelled orders.
Hands pressed against his chest.
Something cold flowed through his IV line, numbing the absolute worst of the fire.
Yet the dull, burning hum remained deep in his muscles.
Images of Raina sitting by his bed surfaced first.
She held his good hand with both of hers.
Refusing to let go, she stayed planted even when the nurses tried to move her aside.
Grandpa sat heavily in the metal visitor’s chair nearby.
A thick white bandage wrapped around his head, concealing the wound while the old man stared blankly at the floor.
Exhaustion radiated from him.
Finally, the shadow remained.
Standing motionless in the corner of the room.
Eventually, the hospital quieted down.
The frantic, terrified energy faded away.
Sector 135 fell completely silent under the heavy cover of night.
Kai fought to stay awake.
Watching the door felt necessary.
Making sure ARC didn’t come back was his only priority.
But his body had nothing left to give.
He slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.
⋙ ──── ✦ ──── ⋘ Morning sunlight slipped through the window blinds, casting thin, golden lines across the foot of the bed.
Kai’s fingers twitched.
His eyes fluttered open.
For a few seconds, he just stared at the ceiling tiles.
Tracking the water stains gave his brain time to reboot.
Then the memories crashed into him.
The ARC operatives.
The impossible fight.
The gun pointed at Grandpa.
The man in the black coat.
Kai turned his head.
A fresh spike of pain shot up his neck, reminding him of his physical limits.
He scanned the room.
Raina was curled up in a tight ball on the small visitor cot, fast asleep.
Her breathing was steady.
Her wrist was bruised purple where the operative had grabbed her, but she was whole.
Grandpa was slumped in the chair beside her, snoring softly.
The bandage on his head was stark white against his weathered skin.
They were safe.
Then Kai looked toward the window.
The man was still there.
Alexander Voss stood exactly where he had been hours ago.
Sitting hadn’t happened.
Leaving wasn’t on the agenda.
Voss just watched the ruined city below, his hands tucked casually into his pockets.
The man looked completely fresh, as if he hadn’t spent the entire night standing guard in a hospital room.
Hearing the rustle of the bedsheets, Voss slowly turned his head.
He met Kai’s gaze.
Neither of them spoke.
The silence in the room felt incredibly heavy, thick with unanswered questions.
Kai stared at the man.
This stranger had just saved them from the most dangerous attack dogs of the Federation.
He had stood between a loaded gun and Kai’s family.
He had protected a Feral Hunter he didn’t even know, claiming a kill he couldn’t possibly prove.
Why?
For the first time since waking up in this hospital bed, the suffocating tension in the room finally broke.
The immediate threat of death was gone, replaced by a much larger mystery.
Kai realized something massive had just walked into his life.
And he had absolutely no idea what it wanted.