It all began with banners raised in the name of peace.
And ended in ash.
When the great war between continental superpowers broke out, the world was still clinging to its fragile alliances, still lying to itself that diplomacy had a place in the age of superweapons.
But the lies didn't last long.
The countries without any nukes had no choice but to either side with an axis power or simply provide resources or manpower.
After 8 years of drawn out war, nations fell like dominoes—borders shattered, alliances burned. Nuclear submarines became common, drones patrolled the skies like vultures, and satellites painted every square inch of land in targeting grids.
At first, they held back.
The nukes only struck fleets, military bases, unmanned zones.
The best way to win a war was to capture the enemy nation without destroying it's working force, without destroying it's natural resources, maybe that was why the nukes, at first weren't targeted at the regions with most population.
But war is a starving beast—it always wants more.
The restraints broke.
Nukes started flying toward population zones without warning.
Many of the nukes were destroyed while they were airborne, some got their electronics disabled, while some detonated midair causing EMP to still do damage to the electronics equipment in a wide area, worst of the damage was done from those few that still hit it's target dispite all advanced defensive measures and worst still were the warheads that broke apart and dispersed nuclear material over a wide range of area, contaminating air, water and soil.
Cities burned. Crops died. Entire generations were wiped out. The global economy collapsed into a pit of blood and radiation.
Hundreds of millions of civilians died, people who never wished for the war to happen perished without even having done anything to demand such a fate.
Victory no longer meant triumph. It meant surviving with fewer graves.
"I still remember the images I saw in history books," Cain thought, "Charred bones holding onto melted toys. Corpses clutching each other in glassed streets. A baby's gas mask torn apart and soaked in blood."
It wasn't just a world war.
It was a slow apocalypse.
Then came the final spark.
A refugee camp was bombed—no military targets, just women and children. It was done within a countries border, by it's own millitary, ordered by a general of the West axis of power. He seemed to have gone crazy and ordered a drone bomber strike. The other higher-ups stayed silent.
But silence was all the world needed to turn.
The war stopped not because the superpowers ran out of nukes, nor because one side was defeated but because both sides faced inner turmoil, normal civillians weren't staying silent anymore, nobody wanted to see the end of a war that seemed all destroying. Because this war seemed to only end when there was nothing left to fight for.
A Western general surrendered himself publicly to the other side, offering peace… and was mocked by the self-proclaimed Emperor of the Middle Axis of power. That tyrant called mercy a disease, weakness. He declared himself divine. Promised dominion over the ashes.
But then—his own guards pulled their rifles.
His own generals turned.
The war ended not by diplomacy, but by betrayal.
The monsters who started the war were executed by the very armies they commanded.
And from that blood-soaked collapse, a new order rose.
After the official end of the war between continental superpowers, many new countries emerged in the former regime of the mad Emperor of the middle continent.
The biggest nation in the world was soon split apart, some parts chose to join neighbouring small countries, some neighbouring states of the former empire chose to join together to make new countries.
Dzonal was one of them.
And behind the scenes… EmberWake.
EmberWake foundation was established then by many wealthy families coming together to help the people of the newly found country Dzonal. People who were suffering the depression caused by war, people who faced sudden poverty.
The name EmberWake suggests something that has risen from ashes anew. With a crest of the pheonix, it became the symbol of hope to the people.
But in reality it was a phoenix born not from hope, but from control.
"They said they would rebuild us. Feed us. Protect us. But all they did was rewrap the chains and call it civilization." These were the lines Cain had once heard from an old begger somewhere, when he was young.
***
Cain moved silently through the private gardens of EmberWake HQ, away from the offices, the secrets, the machines.
The garden sprawled like a lie made beautiful—three million square feet of pristine soil and carefully engineered greenery. Officially, it was an agricultural zone for research.
Unofficially, it was a trophy.
A symbol that said: "We can control even the earth beneath your feet."
There were no birds. No buzzing insects. Even the wind felt rehearsed.
Cain walked alone, shoes crunching softly over pebbled paths as he passed an artificial lake, its surface as still as death.
"EmberWake... no matter how deep I go, it always gets darker."
He'd spent years clawing through the ranks. Fighting through the mud of politics and blood of betrayal.
And yet—he was still far from the true core. The men who truly ruled EmberWake didn't wear uniforms. They didn't need to.
They had history. Power. Legacy.
The Foundation.
Old bloodlines and ancient money that had woven themselves into the soul of civilization centuries ago.
"I couldn't destroy it, even if I wanted to.
Not unless I tore out my own veins too."
He reached the private elevator at the far edge of the garden. One that only opened for certain DNA keys.
He placed his hand on the scanner.
It beeped and he felt a small needle pricking his thumb.
[Access granted.]
But then—
Ding.
The elevator doors opened from the inside.
And a man stepped out.
Cain's breath got caught.
That man was tall. Towering. With a frame that looked more like a war machine than a man. Thick cords of muscle twisted under his fitted shirt. Each step he took made the ground feel smaller.
He didn't even glance at Cain.
He just walked past.
Silent. Effortless.
Cain instinctively stepped aside.
But just as he turned to enter the elevator—
"You."
The voice was smooth.
Quiet.
But it rang through the air like thunder behind velvet.
Cain turned slowly.
The man was right in front of him now.
He hadn't heard footsteps. No sound. No warning.
Just presence.
Cain looked up—and froze.
The man's eyes…
Golden.
Not amber. Not brown.
Gold.
And they were staring straight into his.
A gaze that seemed to pierce through flesh, peel back the skin, and stare directly into the soul.
Cain's heart pounded.
Every instinct screamed run—but his legs wouldn't obey.
The man leaned down ever so slightly, close enough that Cain could feel the heat radiating off him. Then he said with his commanding but calm voice:
"Lose the mask."
Cain was holding eye contact thinking: "he sees me."
It wasn't like being looked at.
It was like being known.
Every scar. Every lie. Every sin.
Cain slowly reached up.
And removed his mask.
The metal scraped softly as it came off, revealing the burned, broken ruin of his face.
The man didn't flinch.
He looked. He saw.
And then he spoke.
"Lose the mask,you look better without it."
Cain blinked.
The man turned and walked away—just like that.
No name. No explanation.
Only silence and the echo of his footsteps.
Cain stood frozen.
Eventually, he put the mask back on—hands slower this time. Less certain.
'I hate him, as if his existence is a threat to mine, and my gut feeling have never betrayed me.'
Cain turned around and went inside the elevator. The elevator had only one purpose, to take someone to the 5th restricted floor of EmberWake corporation HQ.
Inside the elevator Cain stood alone, in an empty space that could feet a train car.
Thinking about the man he just met, Cain muttered:
"One more man I'll have to make disappear…"