The Phone rang while walking across the street, Finn glanced at his phone and read;
"A new portal appeared nearby"
Without any delay, he changed his route towards his new destination. The street surged like a living organism, bodies flowing in chaotic harmony. Neon signs flickered above as pedestrians weaved between sleek hover bikes and autonomous delivery bots trundling along the pavement. Somewhere in the throng, a man shouted into his wrist communicator, while another adjusted the holographic display floating beside him.
Though he was required to be the first to reach the portal point, he refused to rush. With deliberate, unhurried steps, he moved at his own pace, indifferent to the urgency pressing on him. The reason was simple: under government rules, only two teams or two individuals could participate in a portal mission at any given time. Being late meant exclusion, but haste wasn't in his nature.
Finally, he heard it—the unmistakable hum of energy crackling through the air, growing louder with each passing second. Across the street, reality seemed to warp and twist, as if space itself were folding inward. Then, with a deafening roar, a massive portal erupted into existence, towering like an ancient tree but pulsating with unnatural light. The shimmering surface rippled violently, spilling waves of distorted colors that clashed against the dull gray of the cityscape.
It didn't just appear, it obliterated. The edge of the portal sliced cleanly through a nearby building, reducing half of it to rubble in an instant. Concrete crumbled, glass shattered, and steel beams groaned under the sheer force before collapsing into a cloud of dust. People screamed, their voices raw with panic, as they scrambled away from the destruction. Some fell to their knees, clutching at debris or calling out for loved ones buried beneath the wreckage. Others froze, paralyzed by shock, staring wide-eyed at the glowing monstrosity that had torn apart their world without warning.
Portals like these were unpredictable, appearing anywhere of cities, forests, even homes and leaving devastation in their wake. There was never any sign beforehand, no tremor or flicker of light to prepare those caught in its path. One moment, life went on as usual; the next, chaos reigned. For ordinary people, these events were death sentences or worse, traps that dragged them into realms far beyond comprehension. But for agents like him, they represented opportunity: rare resources, advanced tech, and untold riches waiting to be claimed.
Finn watched silently from the shadows, his expression unreadable. To him, the screams were background noise, irrelevant to the task ahead. What mattered was what lay beyond the portal and whether he'd reach it first.
He has seen these mundane screams and despair, more than enough. More than anyone else. More than necessary.
He approached the portal's entrance, his boots crunching against shards of concrete and glass scattered across the ground. Dust hung thick in the air, clinging to everything like a suffocating veil, while chunks of debris dangled precariously from what remained of the building. The surrounding destruction was absolute, yet he didn't spare it a glance.
A holographic screen flickered to life as he neared, its pale blue light cutting through the haze. It scanned his eyes with mechanical precision before projecting his name onto the display in stark white letters: Finn. Access granted. Without hesitation, he stepped forward.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of something, a small hand protruding from beneath a slab of rubble. Pale, unmoving, likely belonging to a child given its size. For a moment, the image lingered at the edge of his awareness, but only for a moment. He turned away without pause, leaving the scene behind as he crossed into the shimmering expanse of the portal.
The portal opened into a green forest that seemed almost too fresh vivid greens and vibrant colors stretched out before him, as if nature itself had been polished for display. Yet something felt… off. The air hung heavy and still, completely devoid of wind. Not even the faintest rustle disturbed the leaves clinging stubbornly to their branches. It was unnatural, like stepping into a painting where time had stopped.
For a moment, his mind flickered to the absence of oxygen or, rather, whether he should expect it here. But just as quickly, he dismissed the thought. Survival wasn't about questioning; it was about action. Whatever kept him breathing would have to remain someone else's problem.
He pressed forward, ignoring the surrounding oddity. The mission mattered. Everything else was noise.
After walking for a few minutes, he finally spotted them, glowing artifacts scattered across the terrain like stars fallen to earth. Aether Crystals pulsed faintly with an otherworldly light, their hues shifting between deep blues and fiery oranges as if alive. Nearby, vials of Genetic Modifiers shimmered with an iridescent glow, their contents swirling lazily despite being encased in glass. The air around the items seemed charged, crackling softly with energy, and the closer he drew, the brighter they became almost too bright to look at directly.
Each step forward sent ripples through the atmosphere, as though the very fabric of reality bent to acknowledge his presence. He could feel the hum of power vibrating through his boots, resonating with the nanobots coursing through his veins. It wasn't just light; it was energy, raw and untamed, calling out to something primal within him.
Finn paused, scanning the area methodically. These weren't random trinkets, they were treasures forged by forces beyond human comprehension. And yet, there was no time to marvel. Every second spent admiring them was a second wasted. Still, even he couldn't deny the pull they exerted, a promise of strength, knowledge, or perhaps freedom itself.
Then he heard it, a low, resonant hum that rippled through the still air, unmistakably the sound of another portal tearing open nearby. Yet instead of rushing to collect the glowing artifacts scattered around him, he remained seated on a chunk of concrete, his posture relaxed yet deliberate. He didn't move, didn't flinch, just waited, as if the universe itself would bend to his timetable.
His expression was unreadable, a mask of indifference carved from stone. Dark blue eyes, cold and depthless like the void between stars, scanned the horizon without betraying a single thought. His creamy white hair caught the faint light of the Aether Crystals, shimmering faintly against the unnatural glow of the realm. Despite his hulking frame, muscles dense and coiled like tempered steel he exuded none of the tension one might expect from someone so physically formidable. Instead, he radiated an eerie stillness, as though he were part of the environment itself, unshaken by the surrounding chaos.
The portal's energy crackled in the distance, but he gave no sign of acknowledgment. To anyone watching, he might have seemed almost bored, a titan at rest amidst a battlefield of wonders. But there was something else beneath that calm exterior, a quiet anticipation, perhaps, or simply the patience of a predator who knew exactly when to strike.
**
"Don't waste time, alright? Do it as fast as you can," one of the two men barked as they stepped through the portal. The shimmering expanse gave way to a surreal landscape bathed in unnatural light, where Aether Crystals pulsed like heartbeats in the distance.
The sight hit them like a tidal wave. One man froze mid-step, his breath hitching as he stared at the glowing treasures scattered across the terrain. For a moment, pure euphoria bubbled up inside him, an urge so overwhelming that he nearly screamed out loud. His fingers twitched, itching to grab the nearest crystal.
But then the atmosphere shifted.
A cold dread seeped into their bones, heavier than any fear they'd ever known. It wasn't just the eerie stillness or the oppressive silence, it was something more primal, a gut-deep warning screaming at them to turn back. And then they saw him.
Sitting on a chunk of broken concrete near the largest cluster of crystals was a figure cloaked in shadow. He didn't move, didn't speak, just watched them with an unsettling calmness. His creamy white hair caught the faint glow of the crystals, but his dark blue eyes remained unreadable like twin voids swallowing whatever light dared approach.
The air thickened around them, pressing down like an invisible weight. Every instinct told them to run, yet their feet stayed rooted to the spot. Something about this man felt… wrong. Not human. Or perhaps too human, a predator hiding behind a mask of indifference.
One of the men swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. "Who… who's that?"
The other man didn't answer. His hand hovered over the weapon strapped to his side, knuckles white from gripping it too tightly. Neither of them had expected anyone else to beat them here, and certainly not someone who radiated such menace without even trying.
Out of nowhere, something moved too fast for the human eye to follow. One moment, the man was standing; the next, his head separated from his body in a clean arc. Blood surged outward like a crimson wave, painting the ground and splattering across the surrounding debris. The metallic tang of iron filled the air as gravity claimed what remained of him, his corpse collapsing into a grotesque heap.
The other man froze, wide-eyed, trembling so violently he couldn't even scream. Warmth spread down his legs a humiliating mix of urine and terror as the reality of death pressed against him like a suffocating weight. He stared at the red-streaked figure before him, unable to comprehend how quickly everything had unraveled.
Finn stood motionless, his expression unreadable, as if this were another task crossed off a list. The object that had struck with such precision a thin, razor-sharp disc glowing faintly with an unnatural energy returned to him like a magnet, slicing through the air with surgical accuracy. It hovered briefly above his open palm before dissolving into his left hand, absorbed seamlessly by the nanobots coursing beneath his skin.
The remaining man's breath hitched, ragged, and shallow, each inhale more desperate than the last. His heart pounded erratically, then slowed... until finally, it stopped altogether—not out of injury but sheer despair. He crumpled to his knees, accepting his fate like a cornered animal awaiting its end.
Finn watched silently, indifferent to the display of fear. Death wasn't personal it was efficient. And efficiency was all that mattered.