Joseph groaned, clutching his head as a sharp pain shot through his skull. His breathing grew ragged, and his fingers trembled.
"Joseph?" Sebastian stepped closer, concern etched into his face.
John kept a cautious grip on his shotgun, watching Joseph's body language shift. Something was wrong.
Joseph staggered back, his expression twisting in pain. "I—something's… wrong…"
Then, without warning, he lunged at Sebastian, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him off the ground with unnatural strength.
"Joseph, stop!" John shouted, raising his shotgun but hesitating to pull the trigger.
Sebastian struggled, gripping Joseph's arms as his vision blurred. "Joseph…!"
For a brief moment, Joseph's eyes darkened, his grip tightening as if he were about to snap Sebastian's neck. But then, just as suddenly, his body jerked violently, and his grip loosened. He stumbled back, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
John caught Sebastian as he collapsed, coughing and rubbing his throat. "You alright?"
Sebastian nodded weakly, still regaining his breath. He looked at Joseph, who was holding his head in his hands, his body trembling.
Joseph groaned, blinking rapidly as if waking from a nightmare. "S-Sebastian? What… what happened?"
John exhaled, shaking his head. "You just tried to choke him out, that's what."
Joseph's face paled. "I… I didn't mean to. Something took over, like I wasn't in control."
Sebastian sat up, rubbing his throat. "We need to keep moving before it happens again."
John reloaded his shotgun, scanning the dimly lit corridor ahead. "Yeah, and next time, I'm not pulling my punches."
With tension still lingering between them, the three pressed forward into the darkness, knowing that whatever was affecting Joseph… wasn't done with him yet.
As they pressed forward through the dark corridors, the sound of rushing water caught their attention. Sebastian and John exchanged a look before sprinting toward the source.
Up ahead, Kidman was trapped inside a large, metal box, her hands slamming against the glass as water rapidly filled the chamber. Her eyes widened in panic as she saw them approach.
"Kidman!" Sebastian shouted, rushing to the control panel beside the box.
John quickly examined the chains and locks securing the mechanism. "This thing's built like a goddamn vault."
Kidman gasped for air as the water rose past her shoulders, her movements frantic.
Sebastian growled in frustration, scanning the buttons. "Damn it, none of this is labeled!"
John gritted his teeth. "Screw the controls—we need to force it open!"
Without hesitation, both men grabbed the metal bars sealing the front and pulled with everything they had. The rusted metal groaned, refusing to budge.
Kidman's struggle grew weaker as the water rose to her chin.
Sebastian's eyes darted to the side—a large pipe wrench lay near a toolbox. "John, the wrench!"
John grabbed it, wedging it into the seam of the hatch. "Hold it steady!"
Together, they forced the wrench downward, the metal creaking under the pressure. Sebastian delivered a powerful kick to the weak point, and with a loud snap, the hatch burst open.
Water rushed out, spilling over the floor as Kidman fell forward, coughing and gasping for air.
Sebastian caught her, steadying her against him. "You okay?"
Kidman coughed, nodding weakly. "Yeah… thanks."
John gave a small nod, stepping back. "Let's keep moving before something else tries to drown us."
With Kidman back on her feet, the group pressed forward, tension still thick in the air. They made their way through the shifting corridors, the eerie hum of Ruvik's presence growing stronger with every step.
Then, just as they reached an open area, the ground beneath Sebastian cracked.
John barely had time to react before grotesque, pale hands burst from the floor, clawing at Sebastian's legs.
"Sebastian!" Kidman shouted, reaching for him.
John lunged forward, grabbing Sebastian's arm and pulling with all his strength. "Come on, damn it!"
But the hands tightened their grip, dragging Sebastian down into the darkness.
His last glimpse was of John and Kidman struggling to hold on, their faces filled with panic—before the world vanished into blackness.
**Darkness.**
John's head throbbed as he slowly regained consciousness. His arms and legs were bound to a cold metal chair, thick leather straps digging into his wrists. The air was thick with decay, the dim light barely illuminating the grotesque architecture of the room. Pulsating veins crawled along the walls, as if the entire space was alive.
A chill crept up his spine as he realized he wasn't alone.
A figure emerged from the shadows, his pale, scarred face partially obscured by a flowing white cloak. His piercing eyes held an unnatural coldness, his presence suffocating.
John narrowed his eyes. "I take it you're the one running this freak show."
The figure tilted his head slightly, an amused smirk playing at his lips. "You speak as though you understand what's happening here."
His voice was smooth, calculated. **Ruvik.**
John pulled at his restraints. "Yeah, I get the basics. You're the sick bastard twisting this place into your own personal nightmare."
Ruvik chuckled, his voice hollow. "Nightmare? No… this is liberation. You are all trapped in your own illusions—blind to the truth." He stepped closer, placing a cold hand on John's shoulder.
The moment Ruvik made contact, **pain shot through his skull.** His smirk vanished as he **staggered back**, gripping his head. A sharp, piercing headache wracked through him—a sensation he had never felt before.
John felt something, too. **A flood of memories.**
Flashes of **Japan.** A girl's laughter. The warmth of her touch. **Yori.**
The memories hit him like a freight train—their first meeting, the way she teased him, their nights together under neon lights. Then came the pain. **Fire. Screaming. Osamu.**
John gritted his teeth, his breathing heavy. "Looks like you bit off more than you can chew."
Ruvik, still clutching his head, let out a low growl. "Interesting. Very interesting."
With a flick of his wrist, **the world collapsed.** The chair beneath John vanished, and he plunged into the void.
---
**John crashed onto the cold metal floor of an elevator.**
A voice called out. "John?"
He blinked, his vision clearing. **Sebastian.** Gun raised, staring at him in shock.
John exhaled sharply. "Well, that was fun."
Before Sebastian could respond, the **elevator suddenly shook violently.** A loud groan of metal filled the air as the cables **snapped**, sending them plummeting down at breakneck speed.
"Shit! Brace yourself!" Sebastian shouted.
John barely had time to grab onto the railing before the **elevator crashed into water**, the impact sending a wave through the flooded cityscape. The force of the landing nearly threw them off their feet as water began seeping in through the cracks.
Sebastian coughed, catching his breath. "Well… that could've been worse."
John wiped his face and scanned their surroundings. They were in the middle of a **half-submerged city**, the remnants of ruined skyscrapers jutting out from the water like tombstones. The air was thick with mist, and the faint glow of distant fires flickered through the haze.
Sebastian lowered his gun slightly. "Where the hell did you come from?"
John pushed himself up. "Long story. What about you?"
Sebastian sighed, rubbing his temple. "You missed one hell of a ride. Let me fill you in."
---
### **Sebastian's Story (Chapter 6 - Chapter 10 Recap)**
"After I got pulled under, I woke up in some **twisted version of Beacon Mental Hospital.** Everything was warped, the walls shifting like they were alive. Then, Ruvik showed up. He started messing with my head, pulling me into one nightmare after another."
John raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like a real piece of work."
Sebastian huffed. "You have no idea. Joseph was with me, but he kept **blacking out and attacking me.** Kidman was acting suspicious, and then I ran into *her* again."
John caught the change in Sebastian's tone. "Who?"
Sebastian hesitated. "Laura. My sister… or what Ruvik turned her into."
John didn't press. Sebastian shook his head and continued. "I barely survived that. Then, I ended up in **catacombs** filled with monsters, traps, and a giant bastard with a safe for a head. The Keeper. Every time I killed him, he just came back. Eventually, I got out and made it to an **underground facility.** That's where I found out about **STEM.** We're all stuck in some experiment—trapped in Ruvik's mind."
John frowned. "Figures. So how'd you get to the elevator?"
Sebastian sighed. "After running through hell, I finally reached the **elevator leading deeper into the core of this place.** Right before I could get in, Ruvik hit me with another hallucination. Next thing I know, here I am."
John whistled lowly. "Hell of a trip."
Sebastian turned to him. "Now your turn. What happened to you?"
---
### **John's Story**
John leaned against the elevator wall. "Well, unlike you, I woke up strapped to a chair. Ruvik tried breaking into my head."
Sebastian frowned. "And?"
John smirked. "Didn't work. In fact, it *backfired.* He got hit with a headache instead."
Sebastian crossed his arms. "Why?"
John exhaled. "Because it forced me to remember. My time in Japan. **Yori.** How we met, how we fell in love, and how Osamu burned me alive."
Sebastian's expression shifted. "The guy you lost your memory over."
John nodded. "Yeah. Turns out, Yori wasn't human. She was a **yokai.** And Osamu… he's something worse."
Sebastian rubbed his temple. "Great. As if we didn't have enough nightmares to deal with."
The elevator **shuddered violently.**
Sebastian checked his gun. "No more talking. Time to move."
John reloaded his Luger. "Agreed."
The doors creaked open, revealing the horrors waiting for them beyond.
**Chapter 11 had truly begun.**
The elevator doors slid open, revealing the eerie ruins of a **half-submerged city**, its skeletal remains standing defiantly against the dark waters that stretched endlessly beyond. John and Sebastian stepped cautiously onto the unstable ground, the sloshing water around their feet sending ripples through the silence. Distant groans and inhuman whispers echoed through the ruins, a grim reminder that they were far from safe.
John exhaled sharply, gripping his Luger. "Well, this just keeps getting better."
Sebastian scanned the area, his revolver steady in his hands. "Keep your guard up. This place... it's different. It feels like a twisted version of something real."
John nodded. "Ruvik's influence?"
Sebastian gritted his teeth. "Yeah. He's still watching."
The two moved forward, stepping over broken debris and half-sunken cars. The city around them felt **wrong**, like a shifting mirage caught between worlds. Neon signs flickered erratically in the distance, casting fragmented reflections on the water's surface.
As they turned a corner, **a sudden splash** cut through the silence. Both men snapped their weapons up, scanning the darkness. The water ahead **rippled**, distorted by unseen movement.
Sebastian motioned for John to stay low. "Something's in there."
Before they could react, **a grotesque figure lunged from the water**—its bloated, rotting flesh dripping with black sludge. Its hollow eyes locked onto them as it let out a distorted, gurgling scream.
"Move!" John shouted, firing off a shot. The bullet tore through the creature's head, but instead of collapsing, it **twitched violently**, its form splitting apart into writhing tendrils that surged toward them.
Sebastian pulled John back. "We need fire! Bullets won't cut it!"
John glanced around, spotting an overturned fuel drum near a wrecked car. "Cover me!"
Sebastian unloaded his revolver into the creature, forcing it back momentarily as John sprinted toward the drum. He grabbed a nearby flare, striking it against the wet concrete before tossing it at the leaking fuel.
The explosion **lit up the street**, flames roaring to life as the creature screeched in agony, its form consumed by fire. The tendrils writhed before curling inward, shriveling into ash.
John wiped the sweat from his brow. "Remind me to start carrying a flamethrower."
Sebastian smirked despite himself. "Not a bad idea."
As the flames crackled, a familiar **deep, resonating hum** filled the air. John and Sebastian turned toward the source—**a massive, looming structure in the distance**, its spire piercing the stormy sky. The unmistakable shape of **Beacon Mental Hospital.**
John exhaled. "There it is."
Sebastian nodded, his grip tightening on his weapon. "This nightmare isn't over yet. Let's move."
With danger still lurking in the shadows, they pressed on, the echoes of Beacon calling them deeper into the unknown.
Kidman led John and Sebastian through the twisted streets, moving quickly with an urgency that neither of them questioned. The ruined city around them groaned under an unseen force, as if reality itself was struggling to hold together.
Sebastian kept close, his revolver at the ready. "Where the hell have you been? We thought you were dead."
Kidman didn't look back. "No time for that now. We need to keep moving. There's a safehouse nearby where we can regroup."
John glanced at Sebastian. "You trust this?"
Sebastian sighed. "Not really. But we don't have a better option."
The trio pushed forward, dodging collapsed buildings and flooded pathways. The closer they got to Beacon Mental Hospital, the more **distorted** everything became—buildings twisted at unnatural angles, the sky flickered between day and night, and the distant echoes of laughter and screams surrounded them.
"This place is getting worse," John muttered. "Feels like we're walking through a dying dream."
Sebastian nodded. "That's because we are."
A sudden *roar* erupted behind them. A **massive, grotesque creature** burst from a ruined alley, its flesh writhing as it **charged straight for them**.
"Shit! MOVE!" Kidman shouted.
John and Sebastian broke into a sprint as the monstrous abomination tore through debris behind them. The creature swung one of its **massive, misshapen limbs**, narrowly missing John as he dove out of the way.
Sebastian fired several rounds into its **bulging, fleshy mass**, but it barely staggered. "We need to take this thing down—fast!"
John spotted an **overhanging crane** with a dangling steel beam. "Sebastian! Lure it under that!"
Sebastian gritted his teeth, then turned and **fired a shot at the monster's head**, drawing its attention. It let out a guttural shriek and **charged at him full force**.
"NOW!" John yelled.
Kidman pulled the **release lever** on a nearby console. The steel beam **came crashing down**, slamming into the creature's back with a sickening crunch. It let out a final **gargled wail** before collapsing into the rubble.
John dusted himself off. "That was close."
Kidman holstered her weapon. "Let's keep moving before more show up."
Sebastian wiped sweat from his brow and pushed forward, the group navigating deeper into the city. After several tense minutes of walking, they came across a massive **industrial facility**, its structure barely intact. **The factory loomed before them, twisted and rusted, a beacon of dread.**
Sebastian suddenly **stumbled**, grabbing his head in pain.
"Sebastian?" Kidman stepped forward.
Sebastian groaned, his vision **blurring**. The distant echoes of Ruvik's laughter rang in his ears.
John grabbed his shoulder. "Hey, you with us?"
Sebastian gritted his teeth. "Yeah... but something's wrong."
Before John or Kidman could react, **Sebastian suddenly lunged forward**, his expression twisting into one of aggression. With **unnatural speed**, he tackled Kidman, **slamming her into the ground**.
"Sebastian! Snap out of it!" John shouted, raising his weapon but hesitating to shoot.
Kidman struggled against Sebastian's grip, barely managing to keep him at bay. "Something's controlling him! Ruvik is using him to stop me!"
Sebastian's breathing was erratic, his hands tightening around Kidman's throat. His **eyes darkened**, void of recognition.
John made a split-second decision—he rushed forward and delivered a **brutal punch to Sebastian's side**, knocking him off Kidman. Sebastian staggered back, clutching his head in pain before **collapsing to his knees**, gasping for breath.
Kidman coughed, rubbing her neck, then quickly **backed away**. She pulled a nearby **metal door shut**, slamming it between her and Sebastian. "I can't take any chances! He's tainted!"
Sebastian groaned, his body trembling before he finally **snapped back to reality**. His eyes regained focus, and his grip loosened. He gasped, looking at the closed door in horror.
"Kidman... I—I didn't mean to—"
John pounded on the door. "Kidman, open up! He's back to normal!"
Kidman's voice came through, muffled. "I don't know how much longer that will last. Ruvik is inside him. If we don't stop this now, he'll kill us both."
John exhaled sharply, keeping a close eye on Sebastian. "You good?"
Sebastian steadied himself, but his face was pale. "Yeah... let's go."
The factory loomed ahead, the horrors within waiting for them.
John and Sebastian moved through the darkened halls of the factory, the metallic scent of rust and decay thick in the air. The flickering lights overhead cast long, shifting shadows, making the walls seem alive. Every step they took echoed through the empty facility, a reminder of how alone they truly were in this nightmare.
Sebastian gripped his revolver tightly, his other hand pressed against his temple. "We need to find Kidman. She couldn't have gotten far."
John glanced around, his instincts on high alert. "Yeah, but she doesn't want to be found. You heard her—she thinks Ruvik is using you."
Sebastian exhaled sharply. "I know. But we don't have time for this. We need to stick together."
A low, guttural noise rumbled through the factory. The sound of scraping metal echoed as a **large, grotesque figure** emerged from the shadows. Its hulking frame moved unnaturally, and its **stitched-together flesh pulsed with unnatural energy**.
"Looks like we've got company," John muttered, raising his Luger.
The creature **lunged forward**, its massive arms swinging toward them. Sebastian dove to the side, rolling across the grimy floor, while John fired two precise shots into its chest. The bullets barely slowed it down.
"We need to hit it harder!" John called out.
Sebastian spotted a **steam pipe overhead**. "John, shoot that pipe!"
John aimed and fired, and with a loud **hiss**, scalding steam burst from the ruptured pipe, enveloping the creature in a **blistering cloud**. It **screeched in agony**, its flesh boiling as it thrashed wildly.
"Now!" Sebastian fired a shot into its exposed head, and with a final, sickening **crack**, the creature collapsed.
Breathing heavily, John reloaded. "That was fun."
Sebastian wiped sweat from his brow. "Let's keep moving before something worse shows up."
The two continued deeper into the facility, finally emerging into an **open loading bay** where an old **armored bus** sat in the center. **The sound of hurried footsteps approached.**
Sebastian turned, his gun raised, only to lower it when he saw a familiar figure. **Joseph Oda.**
Joseph looked just as exhausted as they were, adjusting his glasses as he approached. "Sebastian! You're alive. And… you brought company."
Sebastian smirked slightly. "Yeah. It's been one hell of a night. You holding up?"
Joseph nodded. "Barely. I've been tracking you two. Kidman—she's close. But something's wrong."
Before anyone could respond, the **ground trembled** violently. A **distorted roar** echoed through the factory, sending chills down their spines.
"We need to move—now!" Joseph urged, motioning toward the bus.
Just as they sprinted toward it, **Kidman burst through a side entrance**, her expression panicked. "Get in! It's coming!"
Without hesitation, they all **rushed onto the bus**, slamming the doors shut behind them.
Sebastian barely had time to catch his breath before a **massive, nightmarish entity** crashed through the factory wall, its many twisted limbs **clawing toward them**.
"Drive!" John shouted.
Kidman floored the accelerator, and with a **roar of the engine**, the bus tore through the wreckage, escaping into the storm-ridden night
The bus tore through the storm-ridden night, its tires screeching against the crumbling pavement as Kidman struggled to keep it steady. Rain lashed against the windshield, and the world outside flickered between reality and nightmare. The monstrous entity behind them let out a deafening roar, its grotesque limbs slamming against the ruins in pursuit.
Sebastian and Joseph braced themselves as the bus careened through the broken streets, dodging collapsed buildings and twisted wreckage. Kidman gritted her teeth, her knuckles white against the steering wheel. "Hold on! There's a tunnel ahead!"
Just as they neared the entrance, the grotesque monstrosity chasing them **lunged forward**, its **twisted mass of limbs and gaping maws** grasping onto the rear of the bus. The entire vehicle **jerked violently**, its tires skidding as the creature's immense strength **halted their momentum**.
"Shit! It's got us!" Sebastian yelled, gripping onto a seat to avoid being thrown forward.
John scanned the area frantically. **Then he saw it—a military jeep, overturned nearby, its mounted .50 caliber machine gun still intact.**
"Cover me!" John barked before **leaping off the bus** and sprinting towards the wreckage.
Sebastian fired at the creature's arms, trying to weaken its grip. Kidman struggled to keep the bus moving, slamming on the gas, but the monster refused to let go.
John **scrambled onto the jeep**, quickly checking the weapon. It was still operational. Without hesitation, he **grabbed the handles and swung the barrel toward the creature**.
"Eat this, you ugly bastard!" he growled before **squeezing the trigger**. A deafening roar filled the air as .50 caliber rounds **ripped through the creature's flesh**, causing it to shriek in agony.
With its grip weakening, Kidman saw her chance. "Hold on!" she yelled as she **slammed the accelerator**, the bus finally breaking free from the monster's grasp. The vehicle **lurched forward**, barreling into the tunnel.
Sebastian turned back, eyes widening. "John!"
John was still at the jeep, **cut off as the tunnel collapsed behind the bus, sealing him outside.**
Dazed and coughing, John pushed himself up, gripping his side as he watched the dust settle. The road ahead was blocked, and the bus was gone.
He was alone.
The monstrous entity, though heavily wounded, was still standing. Its **distorted face twisted into something resembling a grin** as it turned its full attention toward him.
John exhaled, gripping his sidearm. "Well... guess it's just you and me now."
The creature let out an ear-piercing shriek, and John raised his weapon, ready for the fight of his life
John's vision blurred as he staggered forward. The world around him twisted and shifted, buildings bending at impossible angles, shadows stretching unnaturally. His head pounded, a ringing in his ears drowning out all other sounds. One moment he was fighting for his life, and the next, he was **here**—wherever *here* was.
A chill ran down his spine as a voice, smooth and haunting, echoed through the void.
"You are quite the anomaly."
John turned, instincts sharp, his hand moving to his sidearm—but it was gone. In front of him, emerging from the darkness, was **Ruvik**. Pale skin, gaunt face, piercing eyes filled with something beyond hatred—*beyond humanity*.
John narrowed his gaze. "You must be Ruvik."
Ruvik smirked. "And you must be the stubborn one. The others break so easily. But you… you're different. Your mind resists. How fascinating."
John clenched his fists. "Yeah, well, I don't take kindly to freaks messing with my head."
Ruvik's smirk faded. He raised a hand, and suddenly, a **searing pain** shot through John's skull. Flashes of memories—**fire, screaming, a canyon, a name—Osamu.**
John let out a sharp breath, but he didn't fall. He didn't scream. He **fought**. He **pushed back**.
Ruvik's expression twisted, his head snapping back slightly as if struck. He winced—**he felt that**.
John straightened, the pain in his head subsiding. "What's wrong? Not used to someone fighting back?"
Ruvik studied him, his smirk replaced with something more… calculated. "Interesting. You are unlike the others. Your mind—strong, structured, unyielding. I cannot shape it. I cannot *control* it."
John smirked, stepping forward. "Tough break, buddy. You're not the first bastard who's tried to screw with my head. And trust me, you won't be the last."
Ruvik's frustration flickered, but then something else—*curiosity*. "No… but perhaps the strongest. I see now. Your past… the pain you endured… the *fire* that consumed you… it forged something resilient. Something even I cannot break."
John's fists clenched. His memories were **clearer** than ever before. Yori. The way she laughed. The way she looked at him under the fireworks. The night Osamu took everything away from him. The **betrayal, the agony, the flames engulfing him**. His screams echoed through time.
But now—he **remembered**.
His breathing steadied. His **rage** simmered beneath the surface, controlled but present. "Looks like you bit off more than you can chew, Ruvik."
Ruvik exhaled, almost amused. "Perhaps. But even a strong mind can be *trapped*. Let's see how long you last."
With a flick of his wrist, the **world collapsed**.
Darkness swallowed John whole.
John's body **slammed onto the cold metal floor of an elevator**.
A voice called out. "John?"
He blinked, adjusting to the dim light. **Sebastian.** Gun raised, staring at him in shock.
John exhaled sharply. "Well, that was fun. We should stop meeting like this in elevators."
Sebastian smirked slightly despite himself. "Yeah, no kidding. Last time we were in one, things didn't exactly go smoothly."
John leaned against the railing, stretching his sore muscles. "I take it you've been through the wringer since we got separated?"
Sebastian let out a tired breath. "You could say that. Ever since Beacon, it's been one nightmare after another. Ruvik's been toying with me, twisting everything. Joseph's gone. Kidman… I don't even know if I can trust her anymore."
John nodded. "Yeah, I got that feeling about her too. She hesitated back at the factory—locked you out. There's something she's not telling us."
Sebastian ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "Yeah, well, doesn't matter now. We're in too deep. We need to end this."
John glanced at the flickering lights above them. "You think Ruvik's scared of us?"
Sebastian scoffed. "I don't know if 'scared' is the right word. But he's definitely desperate. That means we have a chance."
John smirked, though there was something uncertain behind his eyes. "Then let's make the bastard regret messing with our heads. But first… I need to stop lying to myself. I hunt things that shouldn't exist, Sebastian. Supernatural beings, creatures, monsters—whatever you want to call them. That's what I do."
Sebastian narrowed his eyes. "You're serious? You expect me to believe that?"
John sighed, rubbing his temples. "I get it. It sounds insane, but it's the truth. There's a whole world out there that most people don't see—vampires, ghosts, demons, you name it. And there's an entire society built around keeping them in check. The Hunter Society. We work in the shadows, cleaning up the messes the world isn't ready to accept."
Sebastian let out a slow breath. "And you faked being FBI to get involved with all this? Why?"
John leaned back against the railing. "Because something felt off about this place. I had a hunch there was something bigger going on, something supernatural. Turns out, I was right."
Sebastian furrowed his brow. "What are you talking about? A hunter? You mean like a bounty hunter?"
John steadied himself, gripping the elevator railing. He hesitated for a moment, his brows furrowing. "Long story… but something's not adding up. I lied to get into this mess, Sebastian. I'm not FBI. Never was. I needed to be here, and flashing a fake badge was the easiest way in. The truth is… I'm a hunter."
The **elevator shuddered violently**, the metal groaning under unseen pressure as it descended deeper into the abyss.
Sebastian sighed, reloading his gun. "You're not wrong. Let's finish this."
The doors creaked open, revealing STEM's core—a massive, pulsating structure at the center of a decayed and twisted version of Beacon Mental Hospital. The walls pulsed with an unnatural energy, and below them, floating bathtubs held their real bodies, connected to countless wires and tubes.
John took a step forward, eyes narrowing at the sight of his own unconscious form. "Well, that's unsettling."
Sebastian's jaw tightened. "So this is it. The heart of everything."
Before they could process further, hurried footsteps echoed behind them. A moment later, Leslie came running in, eyes wide with terror. He sprinted towards them, barely stopping before he ducked behind Sebastian.
"Leslie!" Sebastian turned, trying to calm him. "What's wrong?"
John tensed, gripping his weapon as another figure entered—Kidman. She raised her gun, aiming directly at Leslie.
Sebastian immediately stepped in front of him. "Kidman, what the hell are you doing?"
Kidman's expression was firm, unwavering. "Step aside, Sebastian. You don't understand what's at stake."
John exchanged a quick glance with Sebastian before gripping his gun. "Yeah, you're gonna have to explain real fast why we should let you shoot the kid."
Sebastian tightened his hold on his revolver. "No, you explain. Right now."
Kidman's face hardened, her grip on the gun steady. "Leslie is the key. If Ruvik gets to him, he'll be able to leave STEM. We cannot let that happen."
Sebastian shook his head. "So that's what this was all about? All the lies? You were never here to help us, were you?"
Kidman's voice was sharp. "I'm here to stop Ruvik. Whatever it takes."
Before the tension could break, the entire room trembled, the walls distorting as the air itself ripped apart. A deafening roar echoed from deep within the core.
John muttered under his breath, raising his gun. "Something tells me we're out of time."
Sebastian glanced at him before turning back to Kidman. "This isn't over."
The ground beneath them cracked, and the final battle began.
The room **shook violently**, the air around them rippling as if reality itself was unraveling. The deep, guttural roar echoed from the very core of STEM, sending shivers down their spines. The moment of confrontation had arrived.
John gritted his teeth, tightening his grip on his weapon. "Guess Ruvik's done playing games."
Sebastian exhaled sharply, his revolver steady in his hands. "Then let's end this."
Without warning, **the entire environment shifted**. The walls twisted, stretching into grotesque, organic structures. The floating bathtubs containing their real bodies flickered in and out of existence, distorted by the chaotic energy emanating from the core.
Kidman remained unwavering, keeping her gun trained on Leslie. "We don't have time for this! If he gets to Leslie, it's over!"
Sebastian shook his head. "And shooting him fixes that? That's not happening, Kidman!"
Before Kidman could respond, the room **collapsed inward**. The walls peeled away, revealing an endless void of crimson light, and from it, **Ruvik emerged.** His skeletal frame pulsed with raw energy, his form shifting between human and something monstrous.
"You still resist…" Ruvik's voice echoed with otherworldly distortion, his hollow gaze fixed on them. "Your struggle is meaningless. This world is already mine."
John stepped forward, his stance firm. "Yeah? Then why do you look so desperate?"
Ruvik **snarled**, and with a flick of his wrist, the ground beneath them **fractured**, sending the group sprawling. **Dark tendrils erupted** from the core, slashing toward them with blinding speed.
Sebastian rolled aside, firing at the tendrils, but his bullets barely slowed them down. "We need to move!"
John dodged a strike, landing near Kidman. "We can't fight him like this! We need to hit the source!"
Kidman, her focus unwavering, nodded. "The core is unstable. If we sever his link, we might have a chance."
Ruvik, sensing their intent, **let out an ear-piercing screech**, his form distorting further. **Massive skeletal hands** emerged from the abyss, clawing at the edges of reality itself.
Leslie clutched his head, trembling, his body **glowing with an eerie light**. The air around him **warped and twisted**, his form **flickering in and out of existence**. He let out a final, pained gasp before his body **was pulled into the core**, his form vanishing into the blinding light.
John watched in shock as Leslie disappeared. "Damn it… he's gone! What the hell just happened?!"
Sebastian gave a firm nod. "Let's finish it."
Ruvik's form **expanded**, his presence consuming the room as the core **pulsed with unstable energy**. The structure around them **began to collapse**, reality itself crumbling as the final battle loomed ahead.
"I will transcend this prison," Ruvik bellowed. "You cannot stop me!"
The ground fractured beneath them, separating John, Sebastian, and Kidman as massive tendrils erupted from the core. Sebastian fired into the writhing appendages, but they regenerated instantly, pulsating with raw energy.
John gritted his teeth. "We need to sever his connection to the core! If we take that thing out, he goes with it!"
Kidman sprinted toward a nearby control panel, dodging debris as she called out, "I think I can overload the system! Keep him busy!"
Sebastian and John exchanged a look before nodding. "We'll give you time," Sebastian said, reloading his revolver.
Ruvik let out a deafening shriek, his skeletal hands lunging forward. John barely rolled aside, opening fire at the exposed nerve clusters pulsing across Ruvik's grotesque body. Sebastian followed suit, aiming for the glowing weak points.
The battle had begun.
The world **turned upside down** as the fabric of reality **shattered**. Sebastian felt the ground beneath him vanish, his body plummeting into an endless abyss. The crimson glow of the STEM core pulsed above him, growing smaller as he fell further into the unknown.
Wind howled around him, though there was no air, no real gravity—only the overwhelming sensation of **falling forever**. His limbs flailed, trying to grasp onto anything, but there was **nothing** to hold onto.
Distorted **visions** flickered in and out of his sight. Images of Beacon Mental Hospital. The burning house. His wife. His daughter. Shadows of people he had lost twisted and blurred around him, their voices whispering in his ears.
"Sebastian… you let us die."
"You failed."
"It's your fault."
Sebastian clenched his jaw, shaking his head. "No. No, this isn't real!"
A familiar **laughter** echoed through the void. **Ruvik.**
"What is real, Sebastian? Your world? This one? You are trapped either way."
Suddenly, the falling sensation stopped. Sebastian **slammed** onto a dark, pulsating surface. The air was thick, suffocating. He pushed himself up, looking around. The ground beneath him was **alive**, shifting like breathing flesh, veins pulsing beneath his hands.
Then, ahead of him, a massive **figure loomed** in the darkness.
**Ruvik had become something far worse.**
Without warning, Ruvik **lunged forward**, his grotesque form twisting unnaturally as massive, clawed hands swiped at Sebastian. He barely rolled aside as the ground where he stood was **torn apart**, black tendrils writhing like living shadows.
Sebastian fired his revolver, but the bullets **dissolved mid-air**, absorbed into the endless void surrounding them.
"Your weapons are useless here," Ruvik's voice **boomed**, distorted and layered with countless echoes.
Sebastian gritted his teeth, scanning his surroundings. The pulsating landscape **shifted**, revealing something in the distance—a **wrecked military jeep** half-buried in the grotesque terrain.
He sprinted toward it, dodging Ruvik's relentless attacks. **Massive tentacles** erupted from the ground, slamming down just inches from him. Sweat dripped down his face as he reached the jeep, his hands scrambling over its twisted frame.
His eyes locked onto the **mounted .50 caliber machine gun** on the back. "Oh, hell yes."
Sebastian quickly swung onto the turret, gripping the handles. He pulled the trigger, and the **gun roared to life**, unleashing a storm of heavy-caliber rounds into Ruvik's monstrous form.
Ruvik let out an **inhuman screech**, his body **convulsing** under the relentless barrage of bullets. The tides of battle had shifted.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the collapsing nightmare...
John groaned as he regained consciousness, his body aching. He found himself strapped into the wreckage of a crashed helicopter, its shattered cockpit barely holding together amidst the crumbling landscape. Sparks flew from exposed wires, and flames licked at the twisted metal around him.
Blinking through the smoke, his gaze fell on something that made his heart pound—
A mounted minigun, still intact.
John's lips curled into a grin. "Looks like I just found my way into this fight."
He quickly unstrapped himself, pulling his battered body forward and gripping the massive rotary gun. He swung it toward the battle raging below, where he saw Sebastian struggling against Ruvik's monstrous form.
"Hang in there, Sebastian," he muttered, his fingers tightening around the triggers.
With a deep whirring roar, the minigun spun to life, unleashing a devastating storm of bullets toward Ruvik. The rounds tore through the abyss, striking the creature's massive limbs, forcing it to reel back as Sebastian continued his assault from the jeep-mounted .50 cal.
Ruvik howled, his body twisting violently as he attempted to shield himself from the combined firepower.
John smirked. "Let's see how you handle two of us, you freak."
Ruvik howled, his body twisting violently as he attempted to shield himself from the combined firepower.
Sebastian kept firing, but before he could react, one of Ruvik's massive tendrils shot forward, impaling him through the abdomen. His breath hitched, pain searing through his body as blood trickled from his lips. He gasped, gripping the tendril, struggling to stay conscious.
As he fell to his knees, his hand landed on something solid—a rocket launcher, half-buried in the rubble beside him. With a surge of desperation, he grabbed it, using the last of his strength to hoist it onto his shoulder.
"Not today, you son of a bitch..." he growled, pulling the trigger.
The rocket soared through the air, striking Ruvik square in the chest. The explosion ripped through his monstrous form, sending shockwaves through the collapsing void. Ruvik let out a deafening, otherworldly screech, his body disintegrating piece by piece.
Sebastian collapsed, gasping for breath. The world around him trembled as Ruvik, using the last of his strength, lunged toward him, his grotesque maw stretching open, ready to consume him whole.
With the last ounce of his willpower, Sebastian pulled out his revolver, aimed it directly at Ruvik's head, and fired.
The bullet tore through Ruvik's skull, silencing him once and for all. His body erupted into nothingness, the nightmare finally coming to an end.
John smirked. "Let's see how you handle two of us, you freak."
The void trembled as Ruvik's monstrous form **dissolved into nothingness**, his final, tortured scream echoing into the collapsing abyss.
Sebastian let out a ragged breath, his body weak from blood loss. He fell to his knees, gripping his wounded side, watching as the pulsating nightmare around him **began to unravel**. The grotesque structures that made up the world of STEM **cracked and crumbled**, swallowed into the endless void.
John stumbled forward, his muscles aching as he slung his Luger back into its holster. He took in the scene—the destruction, the shifting reality, the fading remnants of Ruvik's influence.
"Looks like we did it," John muttered, exhaling sharply. "Finally."
Sebastian gritted his teeth, forcing himself to his feet. "Yeah… but something doesn't feel right."
Before John could respond, a deep **rumble** coursed through the ground beneath them. The world **began collapsing faster**, as if the destruction of Ruvik had set off an unstoppable chain reaction.
"We need to move!" John shouted, grabbing Sebastian's arm.
Sebastian shook his head. "Kidman! Where the hell is Kidman?"
The two turned just in time to see **a bright, blinding light engulf the space around them**. Their vision blurred, their bodies feeling weightless as they were **torn from the collapsing dreamscape**.
Then—
**Darkness.**
A loud, distorted hum filled their ears before—
Sebastian **gasped for air**, his eyes flying open as he lurched forward.
He was no longer in the void.
He was back in **Beacon Mental Hospital**.
The nightmare was over. Or so he thought.
John's breath was ragged as his eyes fluttered open. His body ached as he felt the cold liquid around him drain away. The overhead lights flickered erratically, casting eerie shadows on the tiled walls of the STEM facility. He gasped, coughing up remnants of the fluid as he sat up, his muscles stiff and sore.
He glanced around, his vision still hazy. Nearby, Sebastian was still slumped over in his bathtub, unconscious but breathing. The facility was eerily quiet, save for the distant sound of alarms fading into silence.
John took a deep breath and swung his legs over the edge of the bathtub, steadying himself as he stood. His boots splashed against the wet floor as he moved forward, his mind racing. It was over. Ruvik was gone. But something in his gut told him that this was only the beginning.
Without wasting another second, he grabbed his coat and weapon from a nearby table. He cast one last glance at Sebastian, then turned toward the exit.
The hallways were deserted, the once-sterile environment now in disarray. Broken monitors, shattered glass, and overturned equipment littered the floor. John moved quickly, his instincts urging him forward. He knew lingering here was a bad idea.
As he stepped outside, the cold night air hit him like a wave. The world felt real again. Tangible. The nightmare of STEM was behind him, yet the weight of what he had experienced clung to him.
His bike was parked just where he left it, its sleek frame glistening under the dim streetlights. He swung a leg over, revved the engine, and took one last look at the facility behind him.
Then, without hesitation, he twisted the throttle and sped off into the night, leaving the scene—and the horrors of STEM—far behind him.
The roar of John's motorcycle echoed through the desolate highways as he rode through the empty backroads of the country. The night air was crisp, the neon lights of forgotten motels and gas stations flickering in the distance. He had been riding for hours, his mind racing just as fast as his engine. The horrors of STEM still lingered in his thoughts, but he pushed them aside. Right now, he had one goal—**find Bobby.**
John had been riding for hours, heading straight for **Bobby's house**. If there was anyone who could make sense of what had happened, it was him. The man was a genius with weapons, and if John was going to be prepared for whatever came next, he needed to be armed to the teeth.
By the time he arrived, the sun was barely up. John pulled into **Bobby Singer's scrapyard**, parking his bike near the porch. The familiar scent of oil and gunpowder filled the air, a sure sign Bobby was up to something. The faint sound of gunfire cracked in the distance, followed by a familiar voice muttering in frustration.
John smirked as he crept up behind Bobby, watching him fire at a target. "Careful, old man. Might shoot yourself in the foot one of these days."
At the center of the shop stood **Bobby Singer**, inspecting an **old Colt revolver**—a legend among hunters. The **Colt**, a gun said to kill almost anything supernatural. He fired a round at a metal target across the room. The bullet **ricocheted**, embedding itself in the wooden wall beside him.
"Son of a—!" Bobby growled before turning toward John. "Well, look who decided to show up. Thought you were dead."
John smirked, tossing his jacket onto a nearby chair. "Not yet. But I had a hell of a trip."
John sat down, rubbing his face before diving into what happened in **New York**. He told Bobby everything—the nightmare of **STEM**, the horrors of **Beacon Mental Hospital**, and most importantly, **Sebastian Castellanos**, the man trapped in a world worse than hell.
Bobby listened carefully, his expression darkening with every detail. "Damn, kid. You sure know how to get yourself into deep crap."
John leaned back in his chair, glancing at Bobby. "Speaking of trouble… what's the deal with the Winchester boys? Sam and Dean still kicking?"
Bobby scoffed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, they're still breathing—barely. Those idjits have been dealing with some heavy stuff lately. Demons, deals, and a whole mess of bad decisions."
Ruby smirked. "Oh, you mean **the deal**? Let's just say things are about to get real interesting for them."
Before John could respond, the front door swung open, and a familiar voice chimed in. "Well, if it ain't my favorite idiots."
John turned to see **Ruby** leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, a smirk on her lips. The demoness stepped forward, tossing a small leather pouch onto the table. "Figured you'd need more of these. Custom rounds. Stronger than anything you're working with."
Bobby grunted, picking up the pouch and inspecting the bullets. "Damn demons always gotta show off."
John ran a hand through his hair. "Actually, that's why I'm here. I know the Colt's reputation, but I'm not just looking for a weapon to take out any old monster. I need something powerful enough to take down one specific target—**Osamu Yūreimoto.**"
Bobby raised an eyebrow. "Replicate the Colt? You serious? That ain't exactly an easy task, kid. That gun was forged with magic, craftsmanship, and a bit of devil's luck. But if you're talking about going after something as nasty as Osamu... well, we might have to get creative."
John nodded. "Osamu isn't just another monster. He's powerful—dangerous. The Colt might be the only thing that can put him down for good. If i can't get my hands on the original, then i need to build something just as deadly."
Ruby smirked, grabbing one of the bullets and twirling it between her fingers. "Well, now things are getting interesting."
She paused, her expression shifting slightly. "Wait a damn minute… did you just say **Osamu Yūreimoto**?"
Bobby's eyes narrowed. "You know that name?"
Ruby let out a dry chuckle, shaking her head. "Every demon worth a damn knows that name. Osamu ain't just some run-of-the-mill monster—he's **legendary**. Even the worst things in Hell give him a wide berth. He's old, powerful, and damn near impossible to kill. If you're thinking about taking him on, you better have more than a fancy gun."
John crossed his arms. "That's exactly why I need a weapon strong enough to put him down. If demons are afraid of him, that just means I'm on the right track."
Bobby sighed, rubbing his temples. "Kid, I don't think you realize just how deep in the fire you're steppin'. If Osamu's still walking this earth, it ain't because no one's tried to take him out. It's because no one's **succeeded**."
Ruby leaned against the table, looking at John with a mix of amusement and curiosity. "You really got a death wish, huh?"
John smirked. "No. I just want to make sure Osamu doesn't walk away from what he did. If the Colt can kill anything, then I need one of my own. Maybe even something better."
Bobby sighed, rubbing his beard in thought. "Hell, kid, making a gun like the Colt ain't easy. But... maybe it ain't impossible either. We know the basics—consecrated iron, mystical etchings, and a whole lotta know-how."
Ruby tilted her head, intrigued. "You wanna craft a weapon strong enough to kill something that even demons fear? You're either brilliant or insane. Probably both. Lucky for you, I know a few tricks that might help."
John's eyes darkened with determination. "Then let's get to work."
Over the next few days, the trio worked tirelessly in Bobby's workshop. With Bobby's knowledge of old weaponry, Ruby's supernatural expertise, and John's relentless drive, they painstakingly **replicated the Colt**—but with **modifications**. John didn't just want a copy; he wanted something **more lethal, more precise, more personal**.
By the time they were finished, John stood before **two single-action army revolvers**, each one etched with intricate engravings and enhanced with enchantments Ruby provided. The barrels gleamed under the dim light, their craftsmanship a testament to their combined efforts.
John picked up one of the revolvers, spinning the chamber before locking it in place. He exhaled, a rare look of satisfaction crossing his face.
Bobby crossed his arms. "Well, damn. If that ain't the meanest pair of six-shooters I ever laid eyes on."
Ruby smirked. "I gotta admit, I'm impressed. You might actually have a shot at taking Osamu down. Might."
John holstered both revolvers, feeling their weight settle against his hips. He looked back at Bobby. "Maybe I should check in on those two at some point. See if they need an extra gun."
Bobby shook his head. "Trust me, kid, when it comes to Winchesters, trouble finds them just fine on its own. You got your own war to fight. Just don't get yourself killed before you take your shot."
John smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it. We'll find out soon enough. The hunt starts now."
The steady hum of the plane's engines was the only sound keeping John company as he stared out the window. **Japan.** A place filled with memories, pain, and unfinished business. His grip tightened around the armrest as the city lights of Tokyo came into view below.
By the time he arrived, the sun was beginning to rise over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and violet. He moved through the airport unnoticed, his mind focused on only one thing—**Osamu Yūreimoto.** The bastard who took everything from him.
John rode through the quiet streets on a borrowed motorcycle, his coat billowing in the cool morning air. He had spent years preparing for this, crafting the perfect weapons, learning from his past mistakes. This time, there would be no hesitation.
But as he pulled into a narrow alleyway near a school, something **unexpected** stopped him in his tracks.
There, across the street, stood **Yori.**
His breath caught in his throat. She hadn't changed—not much, at least. The way her hair caught the morning light, the soft smile she gave as she spoke. But she wasn't alone.
Two little girls, no older than six or seven, walked beside her, **laughing as she held their hands, leading them toward the school gates.**
John remained in the shadows, his heart pounding. His fingers twitched toward his revolvers, but for the first time in a long time, he hesitated. **Yori had moved on.**
The realization hit him harder than any bullet ever had.
He took a step back, then another, his jaw tightening. This wasn't his world anymore. Whatever he and Yori had—it was in the past.
John turned away, pulling his coat tighter around himself as he walked back toward his bike. **Osamu could wait.**
But even as he walked, something inside him twisted. He had spent years sharpening his hatred, fueling himself with the rage of what Osamu had done to him. Every scar on his body, every nightmare, every sleepless night had been a reminder of his mission—his vengeance.
And yet… seeing Yori happy, seeing her laugh with those children—it **unraveled him**.
Had she moved on? Found someone else? Had she replaced him as if he had never existed?
John clenched his fists. Part of him wanted to march across the street, to demand answers. Did she still think about him? Did she ever wonder what happened to him? Or had she buried the past just as he had been forced to?
He inhaled sharply, shaking the thoughts away. He had no place in her life anymore. **She deserved peace.** Something he could never have.
For the first time in years, John questioned himself.
Was vengeance all he had left?
For now, it was time to leave.
**Three weeks ago – The Baker Incident**
The room was dimly lit, the air thick with tension. The crackling of an old radio echoed through the wooden walls of an abandoned cabin, its signal barely holding onto a broadcast. The faint scent of whiskey mixed with the damp musk of the bayou.
Seated at the head of a worn-out table was **General Allen Booker**, John's father. His presence was imposing, a man who had spent decades commanding respect through sheer will. His sharp eyes surveyed the faces of his two sons sitting before him—**Arthur** and **Trevor Booker**.
Arthur, the eldest, leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. "We saw him leave, but that doesn't mean he's alright. What if he didn't make it far? What if something else got to him?" His tone was skeptical, but there was something in his voice—something uncertain.
Trevor scoffed, shaking his head. "Come on, Mike. We both know John. He's like a damn cockroach—hard to kill and even harder to get rid of."
Allen let out a slow exhale, swirling the glass of whiskey in his hand. "That boy's got the devil's own luck, but he left without a word. That's not like him. If he's alive, he's either running from something… or from us."
Michael drummed his fingers on the table, deep in thought. "Maybe he can't. Maybe whatever happened down there wasn't something he could walk away from."
Nathan frowned. "Or maybe he doesn't want to be found."
Silence settled over the table. Each of them had their own reasons for believing John was still out there, but none of them had proof. Only the rumors of a massacre, of something **unnatural** festering in the swamps of Louisiana.
Allen finally spoke, his voice cold and measured. "We need to find out why he left. If he's alive, we bring him back. If he doesn't want to come back… we find out why."
Michael exchanged a glance with Nathan before nodding. "Alright. Where do we start?"
A new voice entered the conversation from the shadows. **Chris Redfield** stepped forward, arms crossed, his face unreadable. . "I've been tracking the Bakers for a while. I know what happened that night. If John's alive, I'll help you find him." "We ran tests after the incident. On John. The Mold—the thing that infected the Bakers—it couldn't touch him. His blood is different. Immune. That's not normal. And I need answers.""
Allen's expression darkened. "So, my son walked through hell and came out untouched by it? You think that's just luck?"
Chris shook his head. "No. And that's why I need to talk to him. Before someone else figures out what he is."
Chris reached into his bag, pulling out a small **testing kit**. "But before that… I need to check something else. If John's immune, there's a chance it runs in the family. If that's the case, we're dealing with something bigger than just one anomaly."
Allen exchanged a look with Arthur and Trevor. "You think whatever's in John's blood is in ours too?"
Chris nodded. "Only one way to find out."
One by one, he tested them, drawing a small sample of blood from each. The results came back **the same**—
They were all **immune**.
Chris exhaled, rubbing his temples. "Jesus. This isn't just some random mutation. Your entire bloodline is resistant to the Mold. That means someone, somewhere, is going to want answers. And not in a good way."
Allen's gaze hardened. "Then we make sure no one finds out."