Location: Valenridge High-Security Prison, Western Tavara – 11:52 PM
The night air was thick with tension as the Shadow Guard units dropped soundlessly into the forested perimeter surrounding Valenridge Prison. The facility, carved into the rocky cliffs, loomed ahead like a fortress forged in nightmares—its steel walls cold, impenetrable, and lined with deadly deterrents.
Damien crouched behind a boulder, his rifle slung over his back, dressed in tactical black. Beside him, Ava and Colonel Reiss signaled the infiltration teams while Nora monitored thermal scans from the mobile command unit parked far off the ridge.
"Guards rotation in two minutes," Ava whispered through the earpiece. "Window opens for thirty seconds. That's our shot."
"Copy," Damien replied. "All units, on my mark."
The thirty seconds felt eternal.
As the guards passed, Damien sprinted forward, his team following like shadows. They scaled the east wall using magnetic clamps, bypassed the sensor grid, and slid through the ventilation system straight into the heart of Valenridge.
Inside, the atmosphere shifted. The air was colder. The halls were silent—not the kind of silence one expected from a high-security prison, but the ominous, premeditated silence of something waiting.
Damien led the team down to Sublevel 5. "Alaric's file says he's kept in Isolation Cell C."
But when they reached it, the door was already open.
The cell was empty.
A chilling voice echoed from the upper intercoms. "Ah, Damien Kane. Right on time. Like your father before you—predictable."
Damien's breath caught. He raised a hand, signaling the team to halt. "Leonidas."
"I warned you," the voice continued. "I warned your family that blood isn't enough to hold an empire. You have to deserve it."
A wall to the left hissed and slid open, revealing a hidden chamber bathed in sterile white light.
And in the center sat General Alaric, shackled but smiling. An older man with a presence that demanded reverence—gray hair, one eye replaced with a cybernetic implant, and scars lining his face like history written in flesh.
Damien stepped forward. "You're supposed to be unconscious. Drugged."
Alaric chuckled. "They underestimated me. Like you do. You're not ready for what's coming, Kane."
"Leonidas is using you," Damien said flatly. "He'll kill you once you've served your purpose."
Alaric leaned forward, eyes blazing. "He doesn't need to kill me. He is me. I trained him. I raised him like the son Gregory Kane never allowed you to be."
Ava's hand instinctively moved to her sidearm, but Damien held up a hand. "Why the betrayal?"
"I saw rot in the Kane empire long before you were born," Alaric snapped. "And I vowed I'd raze it to the ground. Starting with your throne."
"Then we end this now," Damien said, his tone sharp.
But before he could act, the chamber doors slammed shut. Gas hissed from hidden vents.
"Nora, abort—abort!" Damien barked into his mic.
But silence answered.
Outside, Nora watched in horror as all camera feeds from inside Valenridge blinked to black.
Inside, Damien's vision blurred. His knees buckled. The last thing he saw was Alaric's cold grin and the words whispered through the haze:
"Your war starts now, Heir of Ashes."