As Tang Ke sifted through files, a voice sliced into the room like cold steel.
“Looking for this?”
The tinny electronic tone snapped his nerves taut like bowstrings. Anomaly Power surged. Black Armor clasped his body like nightfall, and he slid back to the doorway.
“What—trap?”
His breath was tight and sharp. He scanned the corners, ready to force an exit.
“Haha. Rale was dead-on. Sure enough, the little mouse picked this hour to sneak in.”
Tang Ke’s frown deepened. The words weren’t for him. As the voice faded, four figures bled out of the shadows in the corner. Three had the look of the States about them. Then a fourth stepped forward—forties, a scar slashing from eye corner to ear. He watched Tang Ke like a butcher eyeing a prize cut.
“What’s your name?”
Tang Ke kept his voice locked down. Talking was useless. The only thread he chased was escape.
The American in front snorted, a wolfish curl to his mouth. “You lab types may not know him. We who live by blade and bullet do. His name carries weight, right? Asura.”
Tang Ke fixed on him. The man knew his identity. A whisper of Anomaly Power licked off him—an Abnormal.
Tang Ke moved. A sprint like lightning. He was on the man in a heartbeat. Then the ceiling blazed white, and gravity turned to lead. A transparent field bloomed around him, squeezing like an invisible fist. His power stuttered. His body dragged heavy, knees threatening to buckle. Every spark of Anomaly Power he pushed out got shredded by the field.
“Mighty Asura, won’t even let your opponent speak? Or is this the only way we can hold a proper talk?”
“Hahaha. It works. Those old men knew their craft. Rale, this went smooth thanks to you. Asura? Perfect. We drip a little rumor, and the king of mercenaries walks in. A new test subject for my great work. Hahaha.”
He strolled to the largest incubation vat. Motors grumbled. The liquid bled away, line sinking like a tide. A middle-aged man floated inside, skin ruined, life long fled. Tang Ke saw the face—and froze. His heartbeat stopped like a drum cut silent. The corpse was rotted, the memory faint. But the features—he knew them. His father’s face. The right wristwatch sealed it; the twin sat on his mother’s wrist to this day.
“Fa… Father.”
“Oh? He’s your father? Ahahaha. How interesting. How quaint. A proper reunion, right? Both of you will be my stepping stones to greatness.”
The scarred man trembled with delight. The other Abnormals smirked, their smiles thin as blades.
“Father, forgive your son. I failed to lay you to rest. I’ll avenge you. They will all be buried with you.”
His Anomalous Energy flared wild. Turbine rage churned inside him. The suppression field shivered. His Armor bled red. A sealed, mysterious Armor wrapped him full, a faint scarlet sheen crawling over the plates.
The scarred man backed off fast. Rale and the others raised their powers, ready to strike.
Tang Ke rose, inch by inch, like a stone hauled from the depths. His ice-blue eyes burned into blood-red, and killing intent poured out like winter wind. His lip was split, flecked with red.
“Anomalous Energy—full release. Asura Mode.”
Far from the island, in the Shadow Division base, Gu Xin jolted upright from bed. Her wristband pulsed with a crimson, ill-omened glow.
“This is… bad. Something’s wrong.”
The sky dimmed, clouds heavy like bruises. Anomalous Energy rippled in the air like a hidden tide.
Gu Xin ran outside. The gloom swelled overhead, her wristband throbbing. Others burst into the courtyard.
“Yuting, yours too?”
“Yeah. Look—everyone’s lit up.”
Five tokens tied to Tang Ke’s Armor blazed scarlet, like warning beacons in a storm.
“Something’s wrong. I’m finding Old Hong.”
She turned to rush back inside. Hong Wei was already striding out, his pace like thunder.
“Old man! Boss, he—”
“Prep the shuttle. Fastest course to the Pacific. I’ll explain en route.”
They had never seen Hong Wei so urgent. Words died. Hands flew. The shuttle roared to life.
“Kid Tang, please, don’t let anything happen.”
On the shuttle, Hong Wei laid out the facts. Rage crackled off the team like sparks off flint. Prayer was all he had left.
Back in the lab, war howled.
Tang Ke’s scarlet Mech rampaged, smashing instruments like waves tearing driftwood. Rale was sharp—first-rate in the States. Facing Tang Ke, he was a candle before a storm.
“Why! Why can he breach the suppressor? Help me! Kill him!”
His shout woke his stunned partners. Powers flared. Attacks flew like meteors.
Even calm, Tang Ke was a force. In frenzy, he was a tidal bore. In five minutes, it was over. Rale’s two helpers were blasted apart. Rale lay broken, missing an arm and a leg, eyes nailed to Tang Ke like a doomed beast watching the blade.
“As expected of Asura. Strong. But so what? You think you walk out of here today?”
Tang Ke answered with silence. His left hand lifted. The blood-red mechanical longsword fell, clean and sure.
He watched the bisected corpse without a ripple. Then turned to his father’s remains, head bowed. Tears glazed his blood-red eyes, like frost on rubies.
From outside, helicopter rotors beat the air, a hawk fleeing with stolen prey. The scarred man had slipped away. Mercenaries ringed the building like a tightening noose.
Tang Ke chose. He set both hands at his chest. A blood-red vortex spun between his palms, unstable as a storm eye.
It neared the edge. His Armor lit in blazing lines like constellations scrawled on steel. His eyes snapped back to pale blue. The vortex kept churning. The state was past recall. Energy raged. Organs swelled and bled.
Bitterness and sorrow shadowed his gaze. His voice fell soft as ash.
“Sorry, Xin’er. Yuting. I might break the promise. I’m sorry.”
“Brothers, farewell. Next life, we do it right.”
He looked at mercenaries flooding the lab, then down at his father’s body.
“Father, forgive me. Your son will lay you to rest.”
He closed his eyes. The vortex detonated—devouring everything like a wildfire in a dry forest.
Far away, a white shuttle knifed through cloud. The island’s silhouette crept into view. Hong Wei had finished his tale. Anger simmered. Prayer clung.
Alarms shrieked. The pilot’s voice cracked with strain.
“Energy vortex ahead—massive. This craft may—”
Boom.
The island vanished under a colossal crimson field, expanding like spilled ink on water.
“No! Tang Ke!”
Phantom knew that signature. The others did too. They were helpless. That energy turned approach into dust.
“How… how…”
Gu Xin stared, disbelief a cold blade in her chest.
“No!”
Phantom’s cry broke, raw and hopeless. Princess Gu Xin stood pale as moonlight, tears cutting down her cheeks. Her fists clenched. Her body shook.
Hawkeye and the rest were the same—silent ruin. Hong Wei sagged into his seat, eyes hollow. In that breath, he aged a decade.
Boom.
The island shattered under blood-red fury. The vast force ground everything to grit. No one saw it: in the vortex’s heart, a seam opened—pitch black, a slit in the world—then snapped shut.
Silence fell. The field ebbed. Only a crater remained, vast as a wound.
They stared into the pit without words. Only Meng Yuting’s sobs moved the air.
