Ace groaned as he gained consciousness, his vision still blurry. As he scanned the room, he quickly realized this wasn't some random warehouse or underground dungeon—it looked more like a hidden base. The place had a weird mix of high-tech gadgets and old-school weaponry, with swords, katanas, brass knuckles, and other hand weapons lining the walls like some kind of twisted showroom. The room had about six doors leading elsewhere, making it feel more like a home than a lair. But one thing stood out: the masks. Each of the four people standing before him had one—a sleek, unique helmet resting on their heads. Two girls, two guys, all in suits. They looked ridiculous. But the aura they gave off? Pure, unfiltered killer instinct.
Then, Ace spotted him—the guy who captured him. The one who took him down effortlessly. Yet, no one moved, no one restrained him. It was like they were silently saying, "Go ahead. Try running. We dare you."
"I see you're finally awake," the guy who captured him said, stepping forward.
Ace stretched his shoulders and sighed. "I think it'd be fair to explain what the hell's going on."
The guy gave a smirk before reaching up and removing his helmet. "First, let me introduce myself. My name is Xavier Duran. By now, you should've figured out that I'm the same as you—an experiment. Same goes for the rest of us. We're part of the only survivors of the last experiment."
Ace's brows furrowed. "Last experiment?"
Xavier nodded. "When the experiments took place, people died—both the lab rats, meaning us, and the scientists themselves. In their desperate attempt to figure out what was going wrong, they started a new experiment. This time, some of us survived, but the effects didn't show immediately. The scientists thought it was a failure and began killing off the test subjects. During that chaos, you escaped."
Ace frowned. "So did you guys."
"Yeah. Us four. But that's not all." Xavier leaned back. "We've located six more like us."
Ace raised a brow. "And?"
"They're not like us. They've lost most of their sanity. All they do is kill."
"Not that we're much better," Phiona, one of the girls, added, smirking. "But at least we know how to keep it in check. You? You're getting there. Struggling, but managing."
Xavier gestured to one of the girls, who played a video. Ace's stomach twisted. It was footage of him from the other night—him, killing that criminal. The same footage the cops had.
"Well, at least I'm famous," Ace muttered, forcing a smirk.
"What we need," Xavier continued, "is more hands on deck. War is coming. Six Originals. A whole race of Eidolons. And humans, who—while weak—are stupidly persistent. If they create more of us, things will spiral out of control."
Ace scoffed. "And you think I'm gonna help?"
Xavier shrugged. "You don't have much of a choice."
Ace's gaze flicked to their suits and masks. "So, what's with the whole 'secret society in suits' look? Mask party or something?"
Xavier smirked and gestured toward one of the girls. "I'll let Wei explain. She's the brains around here." He walked toward a door, adding, "And don't forget, Ace—we're not your enemies."
Ace's muscles tensed. He never gave them his name. The media hadn't released anything. How the hell—
His eyes widened. "Wait. How long have I been out?!"
Wei removed her helmet, revealing short black hair and small, sharp eyes. She grabbed a pair of glasses from a desk, put them on, and adjusted them casually. "Chill out. It's only been two weeks."
"Two WEEKS?!" Ace nearly lost it.
Wei waved him off. "Don't be so dramatic. Nothing major happened. Well… except for you being wanted and a bounty on your head."
Ace groaned. "Great."
Wei ignored his reaction. "Let's move on. The suits—like you've noticed—aren't just for show. When we manifest even a fraction of our strength, the air around us becomes suffocating. These suits regulate that output while enhancing efficiency, giving us an edge against the Originals and the Pure. And the masks? We'll make one for you. They suppress our killing intent while also giving us useful features like communication, tactical analysis, and other enhancements."
Ace exhaled, absorbing the information. "Alright, I get it. But why suits?"
For the first time, a new voice spoke up. "I saw them in a Japanese comic and thought they'd be cool. Imagine fighting in suits."
Ace blinked. That was the first thing this guy had chosen to comment on? Not the war, not the Eidolons—this? Before he could say anything, he was already being led into another room, the doors shutting behind him.
"Well, I guess they do look cool," Ace muttered. "So when do we start on my mask?"
"When your mind is ready," Wei replied cryptically before leaving him alone.
Still confused, Ace decided to check out the room. He wandered over to the weapon section, admiring the deadly selection. Then, his eyes landed on something—twin blades, one black, one white, curved with intricate designs. They called to him.
As he reached out and touched them, a shock ran through his body. His energy surged out of him, flowing into the blades, making them glow. They detached from the wall, drawn to his grip. Power pulsed through him. It was intoxicating. He gave them a few test swings—
A deafening bang.
The room shook.
Then everything went black.
When the others rushed in, their eyes widened at the massive gash stretching across the room. Total destruction. And there, on the floor, was Ace—unconscious, the blades beside him. But something was different.
He looked… slightly older.