Ron sprinted through the dense forest.
He wore mercenary gear, his face hidden behind a mask. On the corner of his shirt, a small patch was stitched:
Code Name: Rex
"Shaw, stay with me. We're almost there," Ron said urgently.
Suddenly—
Gunfire erupted.
Ron dove behind a tree as bullets tore through the air, shredding leaves and bark.
He lowered Shaw against the trunk and quickly handed him a water bottle.
But Shaw coughed violently.
Blood spilled from his mouth.
Ron's jaw tightened.
He pulled out his gun and fired back, his shots precise and deadly. Several enemy soldiers dropped to the ground.
Ron pressed a finger against his earpiece.
"I need backup. Shaw is critically wounded."
A deep thumping sound echoed through the sky.
Ron looked up.
A helicopter.
But it wasn't theirs.
It was the enemy's.
The helicopter turned toward him. A futuristic minigun slid out from its side, with additional cannons mounted above and below it.
Ron's eyes widened.
Then the helicopter opened fire.
The forest exploded with gunfire.
Ron grabbed Shaw and ran in erratic zigzag patterns as bullets ripped through the trees around them.
Wood splintered.
Branches shattered.
Several rounds struck Ron's shoulders.
But he kept running.
The path suddenly ended.
They were on a cliff.
Below them— water crashing against the rocks.
Without hesitation, Ron jumped.
For a brief moment, gravity swallowed them.
Then—
Ron fired a grappling hook.
The cable shot forward and latched onto a hidden ledge. The line tightened, swinging them sideways into a cave concealed within the mountain.
They crashed inside.
Ron quickly laid Shaw against the cave wall.
"We're almost there… just a little more," Ron said, breathing heavily.
Shaw looked at him weakly.
"Rex… I'm sorry."
His voice trembled.
"I don't think I'll survive."
Suddenly, the sound of an engine echoed across the water.
A boat approached the cave.
Ron moved to the entrance and peeked outside.
Familiar faces.
The men spotted him.
Ron made a quick hand signal.
They immediately recognized him.
Using grappling guns, they climbed up toward the cave.
They carefully lifted Shaw and carried him down to the boat.
Ron followed.
Soon, they arrived back at camp.
Shaw was rushed straight into the medical ward.
Ron sat outside the room.
His hands were covered in dried blood.
The smell of gunpowder and saltwater still clung to his clothes.
Minutes felt like hours.
The hallway was silent.
Too silent.
Finally, the ward door slowly creaked open.
A man stepped out.
He was tall and athletic, wearing a doctor's coat that looked strangely outdated compared to the advanced equipment inside the ward.
His dark hair was slightly messy.
But his eyes…
His eyes were unnatural.
A faint purple glow flickered deep within them, as if something alive was hiding behind his pupils.
Ron immediately stood up.
"Doctor… how is he?"
The man didn't answer at first.
Instead, he studied Ron carefully. His gaze moved slowly from Ron's injured shoulders to the blood staining his hands.
It didn't feel like a doctor examining a patient.
It felt like a scientist observing a rare specimen.
Then he spoke.
"He died."
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
There was no sympathy. No emotion.
He looked down slightly, pretending sadness.
But Ron knew it was only a gesture.
Nothing more.
Ron froze.
The words didn't feel real.
Suddenly, he grabbed the doctor by the collar and slammed him against the wall.
"Why?!"
For a moment, the hallway felt colder.
But the doctor didn't resist.
Instead—
He smiled.
Not a normal smile.
A quiet, curious smile.
"As a soldier, you should already know the answer to that question," the doctor said softly.
"I did everything possible."
Ron's grip tightened.
But something about this man felt… wrong.
The air around him felt heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Like standing too close to something dangerous.
Ron's eyes slowly drifted to the name stitched onto the doctor's coat.
Dr. Thomas.
The doctor calmly removed Ron's hand from his collar, as if Ron's anger meant nothing to him.
Then his purple eyes locked onto Ron's.
For a brief moment—
Ron felt as if his mind had been opened.
As if someone was reading every thought inside it.
Every memory.
Every secret.
Dr. Thomas tilted his head slightly.
"Interesting…"
Ron frowned.
What is he looking at?
But the doctor said nothing more.
He simply turned and began walking back toward the ward.
Just before disappearing inside, he stopped.
Without looking back, he spoke one final sentence.
"People like you rarely survive long, Mr… Rex."
A pause.
Then he added quietly—
"But those who do… tend to become something… extraordinary."
The door slowly closed.
Ron stood alone in the silent hallway.
That…
was the first time I met Dr. Thomas.
And somehow…
I felt like the man already knew far more about me than he should have.
The memory dissolved.
Like water turning into vapor.
Then another memory tried to form—
But Ron forced his mind back to his goal.
The memories around him faded into black and white.
They twisted and shifted, moving left and right, forming a path.
A path for him to walk.
Ron stepped forward slowly.
He didn't know if this was the right thing to do.
But today…
He intended to finish it.
Ahead of him stood a door.
Finally.
Ron pushed it open and stepped inside.
A man stood in the room with his back turned to him.
He was staring quietly at the blade of his sword.
"So… you've come."
The man spoke calmly.
"Code Name: Rex."