The dim glow of the factory's repair lab illuminated the cold, metallic walls. Dr. Rend stood before the shattered remains of CP0, his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes gleamed with a mix of curiosity and frustration as he turned to Broken, who lingered nearby with a smirk plastered across his face.
"This… is concerning," Rend muttered, motioning toward CP0's remains suspended in the repair chamber. The machinery around them hummed, pieces of CP0's body slowly being reconstructed by advanced systems. "For an attack to penetrate CP0 this deeply… it's unprecedented and unnatural"
Broken raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "You sound worried, Doctor," he said, his tone light but teasing. "Didn't you build this 'perfect weapon' yourself?"
Dr. Rend shot him a sharp look, silencing his mockery. "CP0 isn't like the others," he began, pacing in front of the repair chamber. "He was designed with a failsafe—a system of nine lives. As long as he isn't completely eradicated, he can be regenerated, no matter how catastrophic the damage."
Broken's smirk widened. "Nine lives? Like a cat?"
Rend ignored the quip, his focus unshaken. "The idea was to give CP0 the ability to analyze an opponent's abilities and patterns across multiple engagements. By the second, third, or even fourth life, he would have gathered enough data to eliminate any opponent with near-perfect precision." He paused, frowning deeply. "But this… this is troubling. For him to lose five lives in a single battle…" He trailed off, shaking his head.
Broken crossed his arms, leaning casually against a nearby console. "It sounds like whoever he fought wasn't playing around."
Dr. Rend didn't respond immediately, his gaze fixed on CP0's reconstruction. The process was slow, intricate machinery repairing the damaged body piece by piece. "What kind of attack could erase five lives at once?" he murmured to himself, his tone a mix of curiosity and unease. "It wasn't just power—it was precision. Intentional. Calculated."
A few rooms away, Rex floated in an incubator filled with a strange, glowing liquid. The translucent chamber pulsed with light as wires and tubes connected to his body, feeding him a cocktail of drugs and experimental energy designed to corrupt his mind. Workers moved around the room, monitoring the process on large screens.
Dr. Rend entered the room, his expression neutral as he approached the incubator. He stared at Rex's unconscious form, his voice calm but cold. "An original… One born with power, not made." He placed a hand on the glass, as if studying Rex like a prized possession. "The Shadow Council will find you quite useful once we finish."
One of the workers approached, holding a tablet. "The corruption process is progressing as expected, Doctor. His vitals are strong, and his mind is… adapting."
"Good," Rend replied, his tone sharp. "Don't rush it. Originals are delicate, even more so when they're as strong as this one. I want him fully turned—mind, body, and soul. No mistakes."
The worker nodded, stepping away to continue the procedure. Inside the incubator, Rex's body twitched slightly, his face twisting as though he were trapped in a nightmare. The glowing liquid around him pulsed brighter, the process of turning him into a puppet of the Shadow Council well underway.
Dr. Rend smirked, his voice low as he addressed Rex through the glass. "Soon, you won't even remember who you were."
Meanwhile Jin crouched in the corner of the cave, surrounded by the few belongings Jon had left behind. His hands moved slowly, almost mechanically, as he sifted through maps, tools, and notes. It was quiet, painfully quiet, and every sound—his breathing, the rustling of parchment—seemed amplified in the stillness.
He paused, his fingers brushing against a folded piece of parchment buried beneath a stack of notes. Carefully, he pulled it free and unfolded it. The lines on the map were sharp, deliberate, and unmistakably Jon's work. Jin's eyes followed the markings, taking in the detailed routes and annotations, until his gaze fell on the note at the bottom:
"If you're reading this, it means I'm no longer by your side. But our journey isn't over. This map will guide you to the next step—a city where hope might still exist."
Jin's breath caught in his throat, and his grip on the map tightened. The words hit him harder than any blow he'd taken in battle. Jon had known this might happen—had planned for it—and yet it still felt wrong, cruel, to read the words now when Jon was gone.
He lowered the map, staring at the ground, his thoughts heavy. Amy and Aria. Gone. Rex, taken. And now Jon, who had always seemed untouchable, was just another name added to the growing list of those he'd lost.
His hand trembled slightly as he folded the map and slipped it into his pocket. For a moment, he just sat there, his head bowed, his mind racing with memories. Amy's laughter. Aria's questions. Jon's steady guidance. They were all gone, and he was still here.
"Why?" he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible in the cavernous silence. "Why them and not me?"
Jin exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as frustration and grief warred inside him. He had buried Amy and Aria with his own hands just hours ago, their graves marked only by the stones he'd found nearby. It hadn't felt like enough—not for what they had meant to him—but it was all he could do. Now, he was left alone in the darkness of the cave, with only Jon's map and his own guilt to guide him.
Jin rose to his feet, staring at Jon's belongings one last time. The map's weight in his pocket felt heavier than it should have, as though it carried not just directions but the burden of Jon's final wish.
He turned toward the cave's entrance, where the faint light of the outside world filtered in. His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. "I'll keep going… for all of you."
The wind outside whistled faintly, but Jin barely heard it. His thoughts were consumed by the city on Jon's map—a city that might hold answers, or at least a reason to keep moving forward.
Jin gathered his few belongings, slinging his sword across his back. He hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the cave. For a brief second, he could almost imagine Jon standing there, arms crossed, offering one of his usual calm reassurances.
"You always had a plan, didn't you?" Jin muttered to the empty space. His gaze hardened. "Let's hope this one works too."