A private island owned by the very own Max himself! A restricted Island with a no fly zone ban over the area which he alone had access to.
"Max..."
His name rang out in the darkness, and all which could be seen of building flames burning and terror echoes ringing out.
A place that feels too real to be just a dream and too verse to be reality. A place that has no explanation.
Fire spilled across his vision, orange and wild, while everything burned. A running feet not his, ones he didn't remember, and a cry of a child. A woman he knew but couldn't remember, screaming his name. Reaching for his hands. Blood on concrete and heart pacing heavily without stop.
"Max… Max… run away…"
The voices broke through the terror.
"Target location confirmed."
"Move in. Surround all perimeters."
"Max. Rememb. Remember. Mom. loves yo
Max's eyes flew open as he woke from the dream. He gulped air as if he'd been submerged underwater for too long.
Darkness filled the room, apart from the faint glimmers of moonlight peeking through the reinforced glass. Rain poured on the roof in ragged spurts. But his heart continued racing with terror, his chest constricted in pain, the dream hotly pursuing him like prey.
He remained motionless, gazing at the ceiling.
Breathing irregularly and pacing heavily and very cloudy.
Sleep did not come back. His eyes were clear. "The unknown dreams that seem too real to just be a dream, kept own plaguing him."
But he pushed himself out of bed after a few minutes and headed in the direction of his bathroom. The lights turned on automatically as he walked; the room was filled with a soft white glow.
Leaned towards the sink, taking deep breaths, heavily steering towards the reflection of himself.
He didn't move, blankly staring at his reflection in the glass. His bladder didn't need it, but he urinated anyway, hoping the small urine could calm his thoughts and clear his unsettling mind.
Then he saw it.
Tiny fragments clinked softly into the bowl—dark, metallic shards with cruel, jagged edges—carried along with his urine.
Max frowned.
"What's that doing there", he said as he crouched slightly, staring harder. His HUD[1] flickering to life as it tried to identify the material.
[SCAN FAILED]
[DATA CORRUPTED]
The display blinked out.
Max's jaw tightened.
He slowly washed his hands, watching his reflection in the mirror. There was something. not right. Not pain. Just things to worry and worry about.
A never-ending flow of worries.
Just as he was about to grab his towel, he stopped. The sensation enveloped him all at once – like a change in pressure. Like the displacement of air behind him.
Another person was here.
Maybe due to his experience, he did not even need an alarm and a warning system in order to confirm his thoughts.
That's just instinct. And it is an instinct that has been honed time and time again over the years.
Max's hand was acting on its own. A concealed panel beneath the sink opened with the quietest click. He grasped the handle of the little pistol held there for just such emergencies before taking a deep breath, as if he knew what was going to happen.
The glass shattered.
Bullets ripped through the bathroom wall, tearing tiles and mirrors as pieces rebounded everywhere. Max ducked sideways as rounds tore through the spot his head would have occupied only a split second before.
He rolled, came up firing.
Three shots. Controlled. Accurate.
Rain was softly pattering against the glass walls of the secure compound, moonlight seeping through broken windows as the sound of gun fire echoed in the distance.
Then the AI chip in the back of his head finally responded.
ANOMALY DETECTED.
HEAT SIGNATURES: 54.
RADIUS: 30 METERS.
Max let out a sigh as he replied sarcastically, "Thanks for the warning, HUD, So much for my retirement plan."
He rolled out of the couch just as the first window blew, sending a shred of glasses flying in every which way. The bullets sewed through the furniture as if it were personal business with someone. Max slid across the floor, opened a concealed panel near the nightstand, and pulled out a suppressed pistol.
The sounds of boots could be heard gettingcloser and closer as they seized fire.
Three sets.
No—four.
He waited until the door creaked open.
Max fired both pistols in his hands together and knocked the first man down with hardly a sound as his throat was gone before his brain could initialize a scream. Max charged forward and grabbed the falling body after return fire ripped through the doorway.
He dragged the body into the room and murmured, "Guess I was missing the action after all."
Next, he lifted the body and made it serve as cover against the hail of bullets.
Metal and meat were supplanted by a battering ram force as bullets came crashing home. The body jerked. Max stuck his head out, fired two quick shots. One guy spun off, another folded, shrieking as his knee turned the wrong way.
A third accused him.
Bad idea.
Max holstered mid-move, stepped inside the attacker's guard, and struck the knife beneath the jaw. He pulled it out before the corpse dropped to the ground.
[HEAT SIGNATURES: 48]
"When I taught I was making progress," Max muttered. "They sure did bring an entire army to greet me didn't they", smiling oddly even at the face of danger.
The lights cut out.
The hallway went black.
Night-vision flared green across Max's vision as his implant synced. The army moved faster than before, far more disciplined and coordinated than ur average task force. They were skilled. People who aren't just noobs at the very least.
He moved anyway.
A flash grenade bounced down the hall.
Max kicked it back.
It detonated among them.
Screams. Confusion.
He sprinted through the smoke, firing point-blank. One shot dropped a man instantly. Another folded with a choking sound as Max buried a blade into his neck.
Someone grabbed him from behind.
Max slammed his head back, cracked cartilage, then stomped hard. The man folded with a surprised wheeze. Max put him down permanently and kept moving.
Bullets chased him into the kitchen.
Marble shattered. Appliances exploded. Max slid across the counter, knocked a rifle aside, and drove his elbow into a helmet hard enough to crack it. The man went down screaming.
Max shot him again just to be sure.
HEAT SIGNATURES: 39.
"Still too many," he muttered, his heart pounding in his chest, exhaustion finally catching up with him.
A massive unit broke through the wall.
Armor. A powered frame.
Max dumped half a mag into it. Nothing.
"Of course they had to bring the big guns."
He dove, tumbled, grabbed an arming rifle, and shot brief, accurate spurts of rounds. Knee joint caved in. Man inside screamed.
Max walked past him. Appearing behind him, then sending a bullet directly through his skull.
Another squad poured in.
"This turning far more ugly" max said pating heavily
Max took a hit in the shoulder, another across the ribs. He crashed through a door into the gym, flipped a weight rack for cover, and fired blindly.
Someone rushed.
Max stepped out and fired low.
The man collapsed instantly, howling, hands dropping his weapon as his body betrayed him. Max leaned down, tapped his helmet.
"Life advice," he said calmly.
Then ended it.
The rest hesitated.
That hesitation saved Max's life.
He grabbed a chain, wrapped it around one man's neck, and used him as a shield while firing with his other hand. When the gun clicked empty, Max yanked the chain and snapped the man backward into another attacker.
Both went down.
HEAT SIGNATURES: 22.
Still too many.
Heavy breathing.
Rain.
Then engines.
The balcony doors exploded inward as gunships locked onto him with blinding lights.
Max staggered back, blood soaking his shirt, ammo gone, body screaming at him to stop.
For the first time since his trainy days, he was defenceless. Fatigue had finally set in.
The commander stepped forward.
Robert.
Looking at the tired man standing before him, Max.
One eye red with fury already.
"Stand down, Max."
Max laughed. Do you know me as one who stands down.
"After all this?" He raised his pistol again. "Rude."
Gunfire erupted.
Max ran.
A shadow dropped from the sky.
An airship slammed into position, guns blazing.
"ENTER! NOW!" a woman Shouted heavily.
Max didn't think twice, he didn't question miracles flying right before him.
He jumped.
A shot tore into his shoulder mid-air as he crashed inside as the ship ripped forward at impossible speed.
The hatch closed.
Max twisted his arm and fired one last shot through the narrowing gap.
The bullet tore past Robert's face, carving blood and fury.
Robert screamed into the strom as the heavy rain beat his armor.
"You can run, but you can't hide from Odin, Max!"
The airship vanished into the night.
Max lay on the floor, bleeding, laughing weakly.
"Happy retirement," he said.
The hunt officially began.
TBC~
[1] Like an AI (System) that's common in most Sci-fi movies