August 5th, 2026
In the military camp, Rio's office, Vortania
10:56 PM
the rain hadn't stopped for hours.
It fell against the steel windowpanes of Rio's office like static - relentless, heavy, and cruelly rhythmic. The sound seemed to follow his heartbeat, a pounding in his chest that refused to settle.
The burner phone lay shattered on the floor, its pieces scattered like fragments of his restraint. His duffel bag sat on the desk, unzipped - a storm of magazines, sidearms, ammunition, and combat knives. His sidearm was already holstered. He'd made up his mind.
Then the door hissed open.
A tall silhouette stepped into the dimly lit room, her presence immediately sobering the air. General Alexandra Evanoff stood under the doorway, still in her combat uniform, her coat dripping with rain. The single green eye beneath her fringe of silver-black hair flickered with faint disbelief when it landed on him - then on the duffel bag at his side.
The rain muffled everything, even the silence between them.
"...Where are you going, Major Castellan?" Alexandra asked flatly. Her tone was calm, but her eye told another story - suspicion, hurt, command.
Rio froze. His jaw tightened. He could feel her eyes move, tracing his every gesture, reading the tension in his stance like an open file. Her glare hardened.
"Answer me," she demanded, her voice cutting through the rain.
He stayed silent.
"Answer me, damn it!" she barked, her voice now thunder.
Rio's chest rose sharply. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled through his nose - calm but burning. Then he opened his mouth.
"I'm going to Cremont," he said simply. His voice was steady, stripped of hesitation. "Tonight."
Alexandra's expression didn't falter - not yet - but her hand clenched at her side. "You're not authorized to leave base," she said sternly. "And you damn well know it."
"I know," Rio muttered. "And I don't care."
Her tone sharpened. "You don't care?"
Rio met her gaze finally, his voice like flint scraping steel.
"I have nothing to lose anymore. Nothing left to protect. Nothing left that this uniform can give me."
Alexandra took a slow step forward, her boots echoing faintly. "You think that's how this works? You think you can walk out and do whatever the hell you want?"
Rio's lip twitched. "It's not about what I want, General. It's about being a son."
A silence fell like a blade between them.
Alexandra's one visible eye flickered - grief, frustration, maybe even guilt - before she straightened again. "What happened, Rio? What changed?"
He didn't answer. He just picked up his duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder.
"I didn't order you to move," Alexandra said, stepping to the side, blocking his path. She stood firm - inches away from him, the rain and the dim lamp light making her look almost spectral. "I asked you a question, Major."
Her voice dropped to something low, tight, trembling beneath control. "What's in Cremont that's worth throwing away everything you've built here?"
Rio stared back at her - unwavering, hollow-eyed. "The truth."
Alexandra exhaled sharply through her nose. "Then tell me the truth first. What the hell are you hiding from me?"
Her words hit him like a slap. His lips parted - but instead of answering, Rio slowly reached up, his hand brushing the insignia pinned to his collar.
He tore it off. The sound - metal on fabric - was loud, definitive.
"Major..."
He stepped closer. Their faces were inches apart now, both locked in an unspoken war of resolve. The rain drummed louder outside, as if the whole world was listening.
Rio took her hand - rough but trembling - and pressed his insignia into her palm. His touch was firm, not defiant, but full of exhausted conviction.
"I don't care anymore," he said quietly, almost whispering. "You told me once, this insignia means sacrifice. So here. Take it. I've already given enough."
Alexandra looked down at the insignia resting in her gloved hand.
Her mouth parted slightly - no words came out.
"Rio…" she said softly, almost breaking the rank barrier, almost calling him by his first name again.
But before she could say more, Rio stepped back, his boots echoing faintly on the wet floor.
"I respect you more than anyone in this goddamn world," he said. "But I can't stay here. Not now."
He turned toward the door.
"Don't make me stop you," Alexandra said, her tone trembling between order and plea.
Rio didn't turn. "You can try, General. But if you do - you'll lose me forever."
The air froze between them.
Then, before she could respond, he was gone.
The door closed softly behind him, leaving only the sound of the rain and the faint metallic rattle of the insignia falling from her trembling hand.
Thirty minutes had passed since Rio Castellan walked out of his office - thirty slow, suffocating minutes.
The rain still fell, relentless against the glass panes, painting thin silver veins of water that shimmered in the faint amber glow of the desk lamp. The light had burned low, casting long, predatory shadows across the walls of the dim office.
General Alexandra Evanoff sat alone in Rio's chair. The duffel bag was gone. The shattered phone still lay near the desk, fragments of black plastic scattered across the polished floor - a silent testament of what she'd failed to prevent.
Her elbows rested on the desk, fingers steepled, her hands pressed lightly against her lips. The rain outside muffled the silence inside, broken only by the soft, rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall.
She hadn't spoken a word since he left.
Her green eye, sharp and cold, reflected nothing but calculation now - not sorrow, not regret, only control. But beneath that frozen composure was something else, buried deep: fear.
The kind that she could never admit to anyone.
You fool, she thought, her expression still blank. Running back into the lion's den… You think the truth will save you? It'll devour you first.
Her gaze flicked toward the insignia on the desk. Rio's rank.
It sat there like a wound that refused to close.
She reached for it slowly, her gloved fingers brushing the metal. It was warm, still holding the ghost of his touch. Alexandra's jaw tensed. For a brief moment, her mask cracked - the cold, commanding general replaced by a woman struggling to suppress something she'd buried long ago.
Then, a sharp knock echoed from the door.
Once.
Twice.
"Enter," Alexandra said curtly, her tone cutting through the silence like a blade.
The door creaked open, and a tall, thin woman stepped inside. Her posture was flawless - shoulders back, eyes sharp, movements deliberate. Her uniform was spotless, her presence composed yet predatory.
She stood at attention, saluted crisply. "General Evanoff."
Alexandra looked up, her expression unreadable. "Lieutenant."
The woman - Lieutenant Mara Quinn - dropped her salute and stood silently, her piercing grey eyes fixed on the general. The faint smell of gun oil and rain clung to her uniform.
"You requested me, ma'am?" Mara asked quietly.
Alexandra leaned back in Rio's chair, folding her arms. "Yes. I have a task for you - one that requires absolute discretion."
Mara nodded. "Understood."
Alexandra's tone dropped to something low and deliberate. "Major Castellan has left base."
Mara didn't flinch. "Without authorization?"
"Exactly." Alexandra's voice hardened. "He's headed to Cremont City."
Mara's eyes flickered briefly - a glint of surprise, maybe curiosity. "Cremont…"
"Yes," Alexandra continued, rising from the chair. Her boots clicked sharply against the floor. "He's walking straight into the hornet's nest - and if what I suspect is true, the city will eat him alive before he finds what he's looking for."
Mara tilted her head slightly. "And you want me to stop him?"
Alexandra turned, her cold gaze cutting through the dim light. "No. You're not to stop him. You're to follow him."
Mara raised an eyebrow but didn't question. "Follow, ma'am?"
"Discreetly," Alexandra said. "You'll shadow him all the way to Cremont. No direct contact. No interference. I want eyes on him at all times. He doesn't see you, he doesn't hear you. Do I make myself clear?"
Mara nodded. "Crystal, ma'am."
Alexandra stepped closer, lowering her voice. "Pack light. Only what you can carry without slowing down. Do not engage anyone, no matter what happens. If he's discovered or attacked, you don't break cover unless it's life or death."
"Yes, General."
Alexandra studied her for a moment, then added, "You've worked with Major Castellan before. You know his methods - unpredictable, impulsive, but precise. He's not the same man anymore. The moment he senses he's being tailed, the mission's compromised. Understand?"
"Yes, ma'am," Mara replied firmly. "If I may, what's his objective?"
Alexandra hesitated - just a flicker - then turned back toward the rain-drenched window. "He will try to unravel Cremont's truth."
Mara's expression softened slightly. "And if he unraveled it?"
Alexandra exhaled slowly, her breath fogging the glass.
"Then Major Castellan will never be the same again. And he will do everything that will risk him dead."
The silence that followed was heavy, ominous, almost tangible.
Mara nodded once, no further questions, then turned sharply to leave.
As her hand reached the doorknob, Alexandra's voice called out again. "Lieutenant Quinn."
Mara stopped, glancing back. "Ma'am?"
Alexandra's tone softened - barely. "If anything happens to him... you don't try to save him. You save yourself."
A brief pause. Then Mara nodded, quietly resolute. "Understood, General."
The door shut softly behind her.
Alexandra stood still, the silence returning. The lamp flickered again, the light dimming just enough to cast her shadow long across the room - sharp, rigid, alone.
Her hand drifted back to the insignia on the desk.
She stared at it for a long, quiet moment.
Then, almost in a whisper, she murmured to the empty room.
"Sorry, Rio, but I can't let you know what you don't need to know."
The rain answered with nothing but silence.
After Lieutenant Mara Quinn left, the silence returned - a heavy, watchful silence that pressed against the air like a weight. The storm outside had softened into a steady drizzle, but its rhythm against the window still echoed through the room like a heartbeat.
Alexandra remained standing beside the desk. Her sharp green eye lingered on the insignia still resting in her palm. For a moment, she simply stared at it - that small, metallic piece that had once meant order, hierarchy, obedience.
Now it felt meaningless.
Slowly, Alexandra slipped the insignia into her pocket, and with a faint, nearly soundless sigh, reached into the inner lining of her uniform jacket. Her fingers brushed against a small, creased photograph - old, worn from years of being handled too often, yet carefully hidden from sight.
She pulled it out.
The faint light from the desk lamp revealed the image: two women, standing close together, smiling faintly at the camera. One was unmistakably Alexandra, younger, her expression softer but still sharp around the edges. The other - radiant, elegant, with long dark hair and the same storm-colored eyes that Rio carried - was Isabela Castellan.
Alexandra's jaw clenched slightly. She traced the edge of the photograph with her thumb, a habit she'd done countless times before. The rain outside deepened, and the sound filled the room like distant static.
Her lips parted.
"So," she whispered, her voice low and hollow. "It's finally come to this."
Her gaze darkened.
"Your son's digging where he shouldn't, Isa."
She leaned forward, her tone lowering into something colder, something almost regretful - almost.
"When he finds out what you did..." she murmured, her eyes narrowing as she stared into the ghost of the past. "Not even your lies will save him."
For a long, silent moment, Alexandra said nothing else. Her gloved thumb brushed over the photo one last time before she tucked it back into her jacket, close to her heart.
The light flickered again - once, twice -before stabilizing.
Her expression was unreadable, her gaze fixed on the door Rio had used to leave.
Then, softly - almost inaudibly - she said:
"I'm sorry, Isa. But I won't let him see your truth."