Unknown Abandoned Moon Mine – Underground – Moon Base
This was Firefly's domain.
A hunched, wiry figure hunched behind a maze of screens—orange-glow goggles with multiple mechanical lenses flickering independently. Veteran of a hundred shadows, his fingers danced across consoles. Data streamed in. Encryptions collapsed. His insect-like drones, firefly bugs, hovered silently, scanning everything. Mecho and spyder, skittered across the room, busy.
Behind him, Thuds fell, each louder than the previous, Chavez punched the steel wall repeatedly, this was how he cooled off. Each blow echoed like thunder, leaving fresh dents. His shoulders rose and fell with fury.
Then he walked in.
Purple Flower.
Not many knew his real name—Sebastian Grey.
Tall. Lean. Blonde hair, eyes like twin green crystals. Mysterious, He wore a dark overcoat, black boots clicking with every step. Handsome, but with a stillness that warned. The kind of eyes that had seen.
Everyone stopped. Even Guerrero froze.
"Phase two is complete, boss" Firefly rasped without turning. "Success rate—one hundred percent."
Grey simply nodded.
Three other commandos stepped forward.
"Take a walk with me," Grey said, calm and cold.
They passed cryo-tubes—abandoned, frost-covered. One held Steven Baflin's daughter. She slept in silence.
Down a grim elevator shaft, they entered a deeper facility.
Machines buzzed. A drug factory.
Robots assembled capsules in glowing lines—packaging, sealing. The air smelled sterile and sharp.
"Production's doubled in the last two weeks," Firefly's hologram hovered beside them.
Grey nodded.
"And our partners?"
"Updates just came in from B-block," Firefly said. A hologram flickered alive.
A tall man with golden dreadlocks appeared—known across Dream City as a syndicate kingpin.
"We're smooth on all fronts. The other bosses are seeing the light. But… we got one hitch. Havery. Works freelance for Bineth and a few others. Runs D-III like his own turf. Won't budge. Maybe… you can persuade him?"
The image cut off.
Grey remained silent, thoughtful.
"How close are we to Phase Three?" he asked.
Firefly did a rapid calculation. "Three days. Sixteen hours."
Grey's expression darkened. "Make it two."
Firefly opened his mouth, but Grey's glare shut him down.
He turned to the three commandos. "Our partners need help. I trust you'll handle it?"
Chavez cracked his knuckles. "Leave it to us, boss."
They walked through rows of robotic workers. Grey picked up a capsule. Studied it.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he murmured. "Just one of these… and you're—"
He trailed off.
"…Bineth won't know what hit them. My friends—we'll finally have our revenge."
A ping chirped from Firefly's console.
"What now?" Grey asked.
"Boss… you gotta see this. You were right," A signal pulsed—faint, but distinct.
Grey's eyes narrowed. "I'll handle it myself."
He turned, walking into shadow.
"Earth, huh?" Echo muttered, watching him go.
"You better gear up," Chavez said, following. "We've got our next mission."