The forest was a suffocating tapestry of ancient trees and perpetual twilight. Revan Belmont, his senses fractured and his mind a chaotic whirlwind, navigated the treacherous terrain. The air, thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, was a stark contrast to the antiseptic sterility of his past. He had no memory of how he arrived, only a disorienting vortex of swirling shadows and a profound emptiness where Lyra's warmth should have been.
Revan: Lyra? (He rasped, his voice a dry, brittle sound that was instantly swallowed by the rustling leaves and the oppressive silence of the woods.)
At the periphery of his vision, shadowy figures flickered, ephemeral shapes that dissolved into the gloom when he attempted to focus on them. He heard whispers, fragmented words that danced just beyond the reach of his understanding, their meaning tantalizingly close yet forever elusive. He pressed onward, driven by a primal instinct, his worn boots crunching on fallen branches, the sound echoing through the unsettling stillness.
Then, a faint, ethereal echo reached his ears, a mournful sigh that resonated deep within his soul. "Revan..."
He halted, his heart pounding against his ribs like a trapped bird.
Revan: Lyra!
He spun around, his eyes scanning the surrounding darkness, searching for any sign of her, but there was nothing. Only the impenetrable shadows, the disembodied whispers, and the gnawing emptiness that threatened to consume him.
"Revan..." The voice was closer now, a melancholic murmur that seemed to emanate from the very air itself.
He reached out, his hand grasping at the empty space before him, his fingers brushing against the cold, unseen tendrils of the forest. And then, a jolt, a dizzying shift, and the forest dissolved into a blinding kaleidoscope of bright lights and jarring sounds.
Revan: Tch..?!
He found himself standing in a vast, brightly lit space, rows upon rows of colorful objects stretching into the distance, an overwhelming sensory assault. People moved around him, their faces a blur of confusion and alarm, their voices a cacophony of unintelligible sounds. The air was thick with a strange, metallic scent, and the ground beneath his feet was smooth and cold, a stark contrast to the rough earth of the forest. He looked at the people, and a wave of incomprehension washed over him. Some glowed with a gentle, flowing blue light, their movements fluid and graceful, while others pulsed with a chaotic, angry red, their presence radiating a palpable tension.
Revan: Where.... Where am I?
He whispered, his voice trembling, his eyes wide with fear.
A wave of primal panic washed over him, a chilling fear of the unknown. He saw the strange, ethereal colors of the people, their alien forms, and a raw, animalistic scream tore from his throat, echoing through the vast space. He turned and fled, pushing through the startled crowd, his mind a whirlwind of terror and confusion. He burst through a set of automatic doors, the outside world a blur of unfamiliar sights and sounds, a chaotic landscape of metal and light.
@He was in a supermarket.
The Stygian Archive
The corpse of the Humagon lay sprawled on the hangar floor, its massive form a chilling testament to the brutal battle that had been fought. Ezra Darhk stood beside it, his face grim, his gaze fixed on the creature's mangled head, his posture radiating a quiet intensity. Jack stood beside him, a silent understanding passing between them, a bond forged in shared experience and mutual respect.
The rest of the Covert Operations Division were scattered throughout the hangar, each lost in their own thoughts, their minds replaying the events of the mission. Rex, ever the showman, was meticulously polishing his explosive rods, a satisfied grin plastered on his face, reliving his moments of glory. Kyle, ever the pragmatist, was grumbling about the state of his boots, his mind focused on the mundane details of survival. Zane, his magical reserves depleted, was slumped against a wall, his eyes closed, his face pale, his body still recovering from the strain of his abilities. Ender, ever the stoic professional, was cleaning his rifle, his movements precise and methodical, his mind focused on the task at hand. Arthur, ever the curious student, was attempting to decipher the workings of a modern tablet, his brow furrowed in concentration.
Viktor Storm entered the hangar, his presence casting a long, ominous shadow over the room, his movements silent and deliberate.
Viktor: Ah, Ezra, (he said, his voice smooth and controlled, yet laced with a subtle undercurrent of menace.) It's good to have you back.
Ezra turned, his eyes blazing with a cold fury, his gaze piercing Viktor's like shards of ice.
Ezra: I thought I was clear, Storm. I will NEVER work for you again. I'm only here for them.
Viktor's lips curved into a thin, predatory smile, a subtle expression that revealed his underlying intentions.
Viktor: Right. Well while you're here, I want us to discuss something family related.
Ezra's jaw tightened, his muscles tensing, his eyes flashing with a barely suppressed rage.
Ezra: Don't. (He growled, his voice a low, guttural warning.) If I so much as hear the names of my family from you, I WILL take you apart.
Jack stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on Ezra's shoulder, his touch a silent message of support.
Jack: Easy there, buddy. Viktor just trying to get a rise out of you. (he said, his voice calm and steady.)
Viktor chuckled, a dry, humorless sound that echoed through the hangar, a sound that revealed his callous nature.
Viktor: Always the peacemaker, Jack, one of the reasons i made YOU the leader.
Viktor: But tell me, Ezra... if you won't let us atleast train your son, who would stop you when you turn against the world? Or better yet, when you dead and there's someone just like you trying to destroy the world?
Ezra: Jimmy. Otis...
Viktor: (He scoffed) Those two won't be enough and you know it. This team along with the rest are not enough. We ne...
Jack interrupts Vitkor, speaking with his voice firm and unwavering.
Jack: Viktor... that's enough, (he said, his voice cutting through the tension.)
Viktor raised his hands in a gesture of mock surrender, his smile fading, his eyes glinting with a cold amusement.
Viktor: Very well, (he said, his voice laced with sarcasm.)
He turned to the rest of the team, his gaze sweeping over them, assessing their reactions.
Viktor: As of this moment, your criminal records have been wiped clean. You are all free to go, for one hour. After that, you will be returned here.
Ezra turned and walked out of the hangar, his footsteps echoing through the silence, his departure leaving a palpable void.
The rest of the team erupted into cheers and whoops, a wave of relief washing over them, their bodies relaxing after the tension of the mission. They were free, if only for a short time, to experience the world beyond the walls of the Archive. Michael, however, remained silent, his face etched with worry, his mind preoccupied with the safety of his family.
Jack: What's wrong, Michael?
Michael: Hm? Nothing... I-Its nothing.
Jack: (He scoffed) "Nothing" Yet you look worried.
Michael: (He sighed) I am... My mother still thinks I'm in the military. She doesn't know about me being in here.
Kyle: Damn. I'm sure she thinks you dead, since you know... she probably sent notes about how well she is or how much she and dad miss you and she received nothing back.
Rex: Dude...
Rex punches Kyle in the arm before the latter, irritated, punches Rex back in arm which resulted in a small fight between the two.
Jack: Urgh... (He shook his head, seeing the two fight before speaking to Michael) Go. Might lighten up her day even more seeing her son again.
Michael chuckled.
Michael: Alright.
Jack: Good man. (He patted Michael on the back before going to Rex and Kyle fighting.) Alright, stop or else you both heading back to your comfy cells.
Ender cheered while both Zane and Arthur have left individually. "Guess they really didn't want to waste the hour of freedom." Michael thought to himself as he stared blankly into space.