Chapter 3 — The Silent Room
Night had swallowed the city whole.
Only the burning husks of vehicles and the distant crackle of static gave the illusion that something still lived among the ruins.
24 moved through the dark like smoke—soundless, faceless, unseen.
The girl trailed close, clutching a torn blanket he'd scavenged for her. Every few steps she glanced over her shoulder, as if the shadows themselves could reach out and take her.
They found shelter in what used to be a data relay center.
The building was half-collapsed, its roof bowed in, cables spilling from the walls like veins. Dust hung thick in the air. The flicker of a dying monitor painted their faces in sickly blue.
24 crouched by the broken window, eyes scanning the streets below.
He had removed the hood of his tattered combat coat, revealing short black hair damp with sweat. His face was angular and sharp, a single thin scar tracing from his jaw to just under one eye. The brand 24 glowed faintly against the side of his neck—an identifier and a curse.
The girl sat on the floor beside an overturned terminal.
"Who are you?" she asked quietly.
He didn't look at her. "No one."
"That's not true," she whispered. "They called you something."
"They called me 24," he said. "That's all that matters."
She studied him for a long moment, her amber eyes too bright for this ruined world.
"What happened to the other numbers?"
He said nothing. The silence was answer enough.
Outside, the wind shifted.
Static hummed through the walls, low and rhythmic—too deliberate to be random interference. 24's hand tightened on the hilt of his shorter blade.
Then he heard it—a sound no ordinary human could catch—the faint pulse of a teleport signature.
They found him.
He turned just as the air shimmered.
A figure materialized at the far end of the hall, armor black and seamless, its helmet glowing with the EGI insignia. This was no ordinary patrol. This was a Retriever, an elite hunter designed to capture escaped Black Division assets.
The Retriever's visor tracked his every move. "Subject 24," it said through the modulated hiss of its speaker. "Return for reintegration. Resistance will result in termination."
24's grip tightened. His heart slowed. The void beneath his skin began to stir—hot, alive, whispering his name.
He blinked once, appearing behind the intruder, his long blade slicing for the neck seam.
Steel met alloy. Sparks burst. The Retriever twisted, blocking with a forearm braced in reinforced plating. The counterpunch was fast—too fast. It caught 24 in the ribs and hurled him into the wall.
Pain shot through his side. The world blurred. He blinked again, reappearing behind the Retriever just as the soldier turned. His short blade carved upward, severing the power conduit along the armor's spine.
The machine screamed.
Electricity arced through the hall, burning the scent of ozone into the air. The Retriever staggered, falling to one knee, but still raised its arm, a glowing pulse cannon forming along the wrist.
The girl screamed his name.
24 blinked once more—too close, too fast. He was inside the blast radius as the cannon fired.
The explosion swallowed half the room in white heat and smoke.
When the dust cleared, only the Retriever's shattered torso remained, still twitching.
24 stood behind it, breathing hard, blood seeping through his coat where shrapnel had torn into his side.
The girl stared at him, trembling. "You… you disappeared."
He looked down at her, gray eyes flat and cold. "No," he said quietly. "I moved."
Outside, somewhere far above the ruins, the EGI satellites tracked the fading teleport signature.
In a control tower deep underground, a voice reported calmly,
"Subject 24 confirmed alive. Initiate Project Silence."
And for the first time, the Elite Government Intelligence truly began the hunt.