Chereads / CyberHunter Battlefield / Chapter 5 - Chapter 5: Metro Zen

Chapter 5 - Chapter 5: Metro Zen

Down the hallway, Orion explained, "Based on everything you've said…"

Jaede replied, "Yeah?"

"You just want to feel important? Loved even?"

"More than anything."

Orion thought, 'Hmmm. He's usually psychotic and crazy, but when I'm a sensitive topic, I can tell he's serious.'

Orion continued, "It's illegal for you to hack into our mainframe and steal the missions from other CyberHunters. But I am guilty of it in a way, because I allowed you to do these things so I won't lose anymore CyberHunters to powerful enemies like I have before. You killed all the enemies who would potentially level an entire region here in Dark City. It was my mistake also that your ability to control a black and red core at the same time is unchecked. It's possible you could become an enemy of the state. And in that scenario, the entire Dark Light will be after your head. And also in that scenario, you would have killed anyone in your way, you wouldn't be able to handle the pressure."

"But I feel great right now."

"Yeah for right now. That's why you're a loose end. But, I want to fill you in more. Initially, we operated as a rogue faction, conducting covert missions to eliminate core-affected threats. We quickly gained a reputation for our ruthless efficiency and advanced combat techniques. Our early success attracted the attention of several underground resistance groups, who began to provide support and resources in exchange for protection against core-affected beings. My relentless pursuit of knowledge led the CyberHunter Association to uncover ancient texts and artifacts related to the trees and their cores. These discoveries included the identities of the trees' original planters—Umbra, Seraphiel, and Fenrir—and the sacred grove of The Triad Nexus. Understanding the trees' origins and the deities' covenant, we developed strategies to predict core manifestations and mitigate their effects—."

"Is this one of those lore dump scenes?!" He smiled.

"Don't ruin it, brat."

"Sorry."

"Anyway, we continually seek to expand our understanding of the cores and the trees. We believe that the key to controlling the core phenomena lies in uncovering the full extent of the deities' covenant and the hidden secrets of The Triad Nexus. Our allies, Underground Resistance Groups in different regions of Dark Light- Provide support and resources in exchange for protection. And also Independent Researchers  - They share knowledge and collaborate on understanding core phenomena. And our enemies other than the core affected people, Corporate Entities like Haines that Klem successfully killed, Seek to exploit the cores for profit, often clashing with our objectives. And Core Cults  - Fanatical groups worshipping the cores, viewing us as the fucking 

heretics."

"Cults?"

'Could that group that merged me with the red and black core a cult? They certainly seemed like one, chanting and shit like weirdos.'

Jaede said, "Cults, I've seen some. But they vanish in a hurry."

"Or they stand In a crowd of people to avoid us engaging in combat. My belief is that they are the ones breaking the barrier to the Tree's, but we need to do more than just find one, we need to find all the cult members. From your story, the ones who merged you with the black and red core seemed to be a conjoined cult. But the ones for the white core are always blending in with society."

"Yeah, and they always try to capture me."

"Capture you?"

"Yep!" Jaede smiled.

"Why would they be targeting you for capture?"

"Well, I mean, they are smart. And the ones merged by the white cores can blend into society as well, they're objective has definitely gotta be looking for me."

"So it seems."

"Why are you telling me all of this?"

"I explained all of this to tell you how much we have on our plate, and if this is something you want to do, then you'll have a lot on your plate."

Jaede grabbed Orion with an excited gesture, "You're LETTING ME ON THE GROUP—!"

Orion pushed, "GET OFF ME!"

But Jaede didn't budge from the push, Orion sighed, "I'm not saying you're joining. I need to see if you're not going to go chaotic and kill everyone including your own team when you keep killing."

"I've slaughtered over 400 enemies, and I still feel great."

Orion gasped, covering his mouth, "400?! You're a villain."

"No! No! I'm not."

"Hmph. Very well. Step in that room."

There was a room in front of them, it was really empty, but the light was one, and the walls were made of enhanced steel, alongside the dark green door.

Jaede happily stepped in, saying, "Is this good?"

"Step back a little further."

Jaede inched back, and Orion shut the door, locking it.

Jaede asked, "What's going on?"

"You're not getting angry are you? Pissed in the slightest?"

"Nope. Just confused."

"I'm locking you in here."

"Okay, for how long?" Jaede smiled.

Orion thought, 'He's serious?!'

Orion cleared his throat, and said, "I'm gonna be leaving now."

"Alright!"

"Also, If you're able to find us after you escape from here, you'll officially be a CyberHunter."

"Escape? Oh that's easy—." Jaede was about to punch down the door, but Orion waved his hands.

"No! No! Stop! Not yet! Wait until the alarms."

"Oh! Okay! Got it!"

"Mhm."

Orion walked away, leaving Jaede alone.

Jaede leaned against the wall, looking at his mask, thinking, 'Damn. I didn't even mean to spill all that information on myself. Did I sound corny when I told them I just wanted some love and appreciation? It was true what I said before, all this power for what? I had hoped people would actually acknowledge me or even wanna be close to me because of it, but it only made things worse. Guess I'm allowing the red and black core to influence my personality a little so I can forget those things momentarily.'

"You know, you're not too bad looking without your mask." Klem was leaning against the wall beside the door, folding her arms.

Jaede grinned, replying, "Aw you missed me?"

"Nope. Not at all. You're going to die."

"Yeah right."

"Just wait and see."

"You came all the way here to tell me that? What are you up to, rookie?"

Klem stuttered, "N-Nothing. I came down here to get on your nerves."

"Oh yeah that's it?"

Klem was flustered a little, but she got rid of it fast, saying, "It was… badass when you parried that nuke. You kinda saved me. Thanks."

"Of course I did. Also, since you said that, then we have to go on a date—."

"Don't think this is going to land you a date. I just came to give my regards and all that gushy stuff. I gotta go meet my new squad, later."

"Wish me luck!" Jaede waved.

Klem stopped, and she responded, "If you survive, I'll give my regards again."

'He's going to die.' Klem thought, walking away.

Night descends over the metropolis, a tapestry of darkness pierced by shimmering neon lights. From the horizon, the rumbling echos begin as dozens of helicopters slice through the sultry air, each one adorned with edges glowing in cyberpunk hues of green and violet, augmentations enhancing their bulk with armored panels and propulsion upgrades visible even against the starless sky.

In the lead chopper, a figure stands stark against the backdrop of hovering aircraft. The man, his name Carrigan, presence as commanding as his attire, sports an eye patch over his left eye, replaced beneath by a menacing cybernetic implant that glows a cold, calculated blue. His blonde hair flows behind him, whipped by the wind, contrasting sharply with his tactical gear that hugs a body more machine than human; servos and synthetic muscles fibers glisten subtly under the cabin lights, alongside his bushy blonde beard.

Through an enhanced intercom, his voice booms across a selectable frequency, aimed directly at the augmented prisoners packed into the surrounding helicopters. Each individual's skin is a tapestry of bioluminescent tattoos, reflecting their crimes in coded symbols. "Attention, inmates," he declares, the intercom distorting his voice into a harsh, metallic tone, "Whichever of you brings me the head of Jaede—the one wielding the Devil's Core—you will receive a remission of fifty years from your sentence. And for those on death row, your freedom awaits. Consider this your hunt."

The prisoners, clad in bright orange jumpsuits reinforced with kevlar and carbon-fiber threads, clench assorted weapons. From plasma-edged knives that hum with a dangerous frequency to heavy rifles emitting low growls of ready-to-fire rounds, each weapon complements its bearer's particular brand of violence.

They exclaimed:

"Hell yeah!"

"I'm killing him first!"

"I can't wait to see my son again so I can train him to be an assassin!"

"Don't say that out loud! You're gonna fuck this up for everyone!"

"I'm taking that brats head!"

One prisoner in the chopper, running his hands together, had black dreadlocks, and light brown skin, a black serpent tattoo around his neck that reached under his eye and it pulsates with a faint red light, and he had dark red eyes.

He said, "…Fools. He's Jaede the Reaper. He'll kill you all."

One prisoner replied, "Huh?! Who the fuck are you talking to, Kenji?"

Kenji replied, "You're all stupid. Carrigan randomly gets a call to eliminate Jaede, and you thinks it's gonna be a walk in the park. You might as well jump off the chopper to your death and crash through a billboard and land on a family on 11."

The other prisoner gritted his teeth in anger, and he charged toward Kenji, ready to attack with a small enhanced daggers but Kenji didn't move, his eyes glowing a brighter red, and the prisoner stabbed Kenji, but the prisoner flung upwards and got caught upwards and flung in between the wing blades of the chopper, the blades ripping him in half brutally, the sound of the propelling winds blocked out his audible scream as blood rained down.

Kenji continued, "That is just a sample of what Jaede will do to all of you idiots."

Back at the headquarters of the CyberHunter Association, an urgent klaxon blares, slicing through the building like a knife. Red warning lights bathe every corridor as the colossal structure initiates an emergency lockdown. Steel shutters slam shut, and blast doors seal with a series of pneumatic thuds.

Orion, Luna, Dante, Vega, and Astra gather their gear hurriedly. Luna's face is etched with concern, her glowing eye scanning data streams that flicker rapidly with incoming threat assessments. 

Orion said, "They came fast, Dante."

Dante replied, "Of course they did, because I threatened their asses."

Luna said with concern, "What about sweet Jaede?"

Dante scoffed at Luna, "Nothing about him is sweet!"

"Don't yell at me."

Astra clapped, "This is so exciting! Can I stay, Orion?!"

Orion responded, "No. We are going to let them cause havoc at this headquarters. Our new one is elsewhere and is already furnished with the same equipment as it was here. If Jaede can escape alive, he's truly one of us."

Vega yawned, "I'm bored just walking away from the fun that's about to happen. Unfair.."

Yuna asked, "Is Carrigan going to battle Jaede?"

Astra replied, "He shouldn't! He would die! Maybe."

In this neon-drenched, dystopian landscape of the cyberpunk metropolis, the intertwining narratives of power, retribution, and control catch hold through the infamous intertwined operations involving the notorious prison leader, Carrigan, and the enigmatic CyberHunter Association. This elaborate chess game plays out against the backdrop of the MetroZen Penitentiary, also known as The GridLock Facility, recognized for its maximum security and advanced containment technologies. Carrigan, a formidable figure cloaked in authority and cybernetic enhancements, presides over MetroZen Penitentiary. This penitentiary, nestled deep in the heart of the metropolis, houses the most dangerous convicts, many of whom wield powers from their interactions with the infamous Red, Black, and White Cores—artifacts that transform mere mortals into beings of chaotic, primal, or radiant destruction.

The CyberHunter Association, has forged a secret alliance with Carrigan. This tactical collaboration orchestrates a scenario where the darkest and most uncontainable elements within society are maneuvered to combat the rampant threats posed by core-affected individuals. But only if the threats are nearby as the inmates will not be allowed to go a certain distance away from the prison. Carrigan, utilizing his iron grip over MetroZen Penitentiary, has instituted a program where selected inmates, especially those on death row, are offered the chance for redemption or reduction in their sentences. These inmates, marked by their bioluminescent tattoos that chronicle their felonies, are enlisted into the throngs of unofficial operatives for the CyberHunter Association. In a synergistic blend of desperation and tactical expertise, these selected prisoners are armed with advanced weaponry—plasma-edged knives, heavy rifles, and other militarized appendages. Their targets are the core-affected beings, individuals who once were human but now rove the city bearing the destructive powers of the Trees of Creation—the Nyx Arbor, Lux Arbor, and Ruber Arbor. Carrigan, through his authoritative decrees, thrusts these inmates into the chaos of the outside world, turning them into hunters seeking the heads of those transformed by the Dark Light (Black Core), False Light (White Core), and Beast Light (Red Core).

For Carrigan, this program not only serves as a way to maintain a semblance of order within the anarchic bounds of his prison but also acts as a purge mechanism to rid his facility of its most volatile elements periodically. For the CyberHunter Association, it provides a steady flow of desperate yet capable individuals who can be used to mitigate the threats posed by core-afflicted individuals without risking their own. The CyberHunter Association's liaison with Carrigan has deeply rooted implications. It illustrates a gritty narrative of control, with human lives being pawns in a larger scheme to balance the chaos introduced by the transcendent entities of the ancient trees. This dark partnership embodies the essence of the city of Dark Light—utilizing technologies and morally gray strategies to wage war against phenomena born from an unfathomable mystic past.

Inside the secure room, Jaede grips the handle of his scythe, its blade a vicious curve of gleaming metal with veins of red pulsating along its edge. As he hears the distant clamor and the increasing footfalls of his pursuers, his lips curl into a malicious smile. Leaning close to the reinforced door, he whispers with chilling anticipation, "Let's bring the heat."

He put his mask on, and his eyes glowed a bright red hue, and he hissed cunningly.