A heavy silence hung between them, thick with unspoken questions. The silver-haired woman's golden eyes glowed faintly in the dim warehouse as she listened to the garbled voice from her wrist device.
"Unregistered energy signature?" she repeated, her tone sharp. "What are we dealing with?"
A static-filled reply followed. "Unknown. It's not human, but it's not a known mutant either. It moves… erratically. We've never seen anything like it."
His fingers twitched. This wasn't a coincidence. Someone—or something—had been waiting for this meeting.
The woman turned to him, studying his expression. "This isn't your doing, is it?"
He scoffed. "If I wanted to take you out, I wouldn't have come in person."
She gave a half-smirk, as if amused by his confidence, but her gaze quickly returned to the holographic display. "Lock down the perimeter. I want eyes on every possible entry point."
"Understood," the voice responded before cutting off. The screen vanished, leaving them in eerie silence.
Then, something clicked in the distance.
His senses sharpened. Footsteps. Faint, deliberate. More than one set.
The woman motioned subtly, and her subordinate—the one who had been silent until now—reached under his coat, producing a sleek, black firearm. "I take it this wasn't part of your invitation?" the man murmured.
The protagonist shook his head. "I prefer my meetings to be less dramatic."
A low, guttural noise echoed from outside, sending a shiver down his spine. Not human. Not quite beast either.
The woman exhaled. "They're testing us."
A shadow flickered by the warehouse's broken window, followed by another. Faster than normal humans. But not just speed—they were moving in sync, like predators circling prey.
She tapped a hidden panel in the wall, and with a soft hum, a concealed weapon rack slid open. She grabbed a sleek, dagger-like blade that shimmered with faint blue energy. Advanced tech. Custom-made. She wasn't just a survivor—she was prepared.
"I don't like being watched," she muttered, stepping toward the entrance. "And I certainly don't like uninvited guests."
Something lunged through the window—a blur of dark limbs and unnatural movement.
He reacted instantly, space distorting around him as he twisted reality, forcing the creature's trajectory to shift mid-air. It screeched as it was flung sideways, slamming into the warehouse's rusted scaffolding.
The subordinate opened fire, his bullets finding their mark—but instead of falling, the creature adapted, its body shifting unnaturally as the bullets embedded themselves inside. It wasn't just fast. It was learning.
"Not good," he muttered.
The woman didn't hesitate. She surged forward, her energy-infused dagger slicing clean through the creature's arm before it could react. It let out a choked howl before staggering back.
Then more of them appeared. Crawling from the walls, slithering from the shadows—distorted figures that should not exist.
"Move!" she shouted.
They broke into motion, weaving through the warehouse as the creatures closed in. He reached out, warping the very space between them, sending one of the attackers spiraling into nothingness. His power gave him an edge—but for how long?
The woman's movements were surgical, each strike precise, each dodge calculated. She wasn't just skilled—she was trained for this. Her subordinate covered their flank, unloading round after round into anything that got too close.
But they were outnumbered.
"These things weren't supposed to exist yet," she muttered between strikes. "This changes everything."
He grabbed her arm mid-motion, warping them both just as a clawed appendage slashed where she had stood a second earlier. She stumbled slightly at the sudden shift, eyes narrowing. "A little warning next time?"
"Noted."
Their escape route was narrowing. More creatures poured in, their grotesque forms shifting, adapting. Too many. They needed an out.
Then—a pulse of energy. Not his. Not hers.
The creatures froze, their heads snapping toward the entrance.
A figure stood there, shrouded in a dark cloak, exuding a presence that made the air thrum with restrained power.
The silver-haired woman tensed. "Who the hell—"
The newcomer raised a hand. And the creatures obeyed.
They slunk back into the shadows, disappearing as if they had never been there. Silence filled the space where chaos had reigned just moments before.
The figure's voice was smooth, calculated. "You're playing a dangerous game."
He stepped forward, instincts screaming at him to be cautious. "And you are?"
The figure tilted their head slightly. "Someone who prefers to control the board rather than be a piece on it."
The woman clenched her dagger. "You sent those things?"
A low chuckle. "No. But I made sure they didn't kill you. Yet."
His eyes narrowed. This wasn't just an observer. This was someone with real influence. Someone who had planned for this.
The woman glanced at him. An unspoken question: Friend or foe?
He didn't have the answer yet.
The figure turned slightly, as if to leave. "If you survive the next encounter, we'll talk."
Then, in the blink of an eye, they were gone.
The woman exhaled sharply, gripping her dagger tighter. "I hate mysteries."
He nodded slowly. And yet, they had just become part of one.