The metallic scent of blood lingered in the sterile air of the White Lab's lower chamber. The room was white, too white — until streaks of red broke the purity.
Old Gin hung by chains from the ceiling, wrists raw and torn. His once-grizzled face was drenched with sweat and blood, but his eyes — though dim — still held defiance. Across from him stood a towering man in a dark military coat, his aura sharp enough to cut the air itself.
General Viktor Dragovich, Alignment Stage — Level Three.
His presence alone distorted the Essentia currents in the room. The walls hummed faintly, reacting to his energy pressure.
"Still not talking, old dog?" Viktor's voice was calm, his accent thick, each word dipped in cruelty. "You were always loyal to your own kind. But even loyalty breaks… eventually."
He turned a knob on the console beside him. Instantly, a surge of blue current coursed through the chains, striking Gin's body. His muscles seized; veins glowed faintly under his skin as Essentia shock invaded his core pathways.
Gin gritted his teeth. No scream escaped.
Viktor smirked. "You've aged. In the old wars, you would've shattered these chains by now."
Gin's head hung low, his breath ragged. "In the old wars… you weren't half the bastard you are now."
Viktor chuckled — a cold, humorless sound. "And yet, I'm the one standing."
He stepped closer, crouching until his face was inches from Gin's. "Tell me where the boy went. The one you call Jiro Tensai. The Authority wants him alive — The blood runs through him right. Old gin didn't answer.
"You save him nothing by staying silent."
Gin's eyes flickered — tired, but unbroken. "You think you can cage him the way you caged his family? He's already beyond your leash."
The general's expression flattened. He stood up, then drove a punch into Gin's gut. The impact cracked ribs; Gin coughed blood onto the pristine floor.
"You think defiance makes you noble?" Viktor hissed. "You're just a relic from a dead world, clinging to your pride."
He pressed a hand to Gin's chest. A pale red glow spread from his palm — Flow Convergence Essence, Level Three control. The energy slithered into Gin's body, slicing through his inner circuits, burning through pathways like molten wire.
Gin convulsed but still refused to speak. His body shook, yet his stare remained fixed, calm even through pain. "If you… if you were half the soldier you pretend to be, you'd understand… some things aren't meant to be controlled."
The general's jaw tightened. For a moment, silence reigned. Then Viktor released his grip, stepping back.
"Take him away," he ordered. "Patch him just enough to live. I'll deal with him after the Council decides."
Two armored guards entered, unclamping the chains. Gin's limp body dropped to the floor with a dull thud.
As they dragged him toward the cell wing, Viktor paused at the doorway. He looked back once — a shadow across his sharp features. "You chose the wrong side of history, Gin."
Then he left.
---
Ash Lane District — Two Days Later
The air was thick with ash and smoke. Even the rain here was gray, carrying soot from a thousand unseen fires. Between crumbling towers and silent alleys, Jiro Tensai followed the blinking arrow on his wristwatch — a faint blue hologram pulsing like a heartbeat.
Each step was heavier than the last. His clothes were torn; his face was pale from exhaustion. For five days, he had wandered across the wastelands, guided only by the watch Gin had given him. It wasn't just a tracker — it stored water, emergency food, and recorded short energy bursts that kept him warm during the cold nights.
But none of that could quiet the ache in his chest.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Gin — chained, fighting, then disappearing in the chaos. The memory tore at him.
He clenched his fists. "I'll never be weak again. Never."
The watch beeped softly. The arrow blinked faster — he was close.
A faint light appeared ahead — an old structure built into the side of a hill, half-covered by ash. The sign above the rusted gate flickered: "Rein Industries — Decommissioned."
Jiro hesitated, hand on his dagger. But before he could move, the gate opened by itself with a slow creak.
"Been expecting you, kid."
The voice came from a man leaning against the doorway — tall, with messy silver hair and a calm, steady gaze. His left arm was mechanical, humming faintly with stored energy.
Jiro tensed. "You… you know me?"
The man nodded. "Name's Rein Arctov. Old Gin's comrade. He sent me your coordinates before he went dark."
The name hit like a spark. "So he's alive?"
Rein's expression softened but didn't answer. "Come inside. We'll talk."
The interior of the hideout was dim but clean. Screens flickered with old data; a faint generator hum filled the silence. Jiro followed, still cautious.
After a while, Rein turned toward him. "You're stronger than I expected. Surviving five days across Null to Ash Lane isn't something most adults could do."
"I only survived because of him," Jiro muttered. "Old Gin… he saved me. Again."
Rein exhaled slowly. "He always did that. Took in strays, believed in the broken ones. But there's something you should know about him."
Jiro looked up.
"Gin wasn't just a soldier," Rein continued. "He was part of the first fluxion imperial general— the ones who tried to stop the Authority when they began experimenting with triple-core synthesis. He lost everyone in his unit. After that, he swore never to let another kid be turned into a weapon. That's why he saved you."
The words sank deep.
Jiro's voice cracked. "Then he's… still out there. I have to go back—"
Rein stepped forward, gripping his shoulder. "No. If you rush back now, you'll die before you reach the gates. Viktor Dragovich doesn't let prey escape twice."
Jiro trembled, anger burning behind his eyes.
Rein's voice softened. "Rest, Tensai. You've carried enough weight for one life. Training starts tomorrow. If you truly want to protect what Gin stood for… then you'll need to surpass him."
The young boy said nothing, just clenched his fists. His eyes, once filled with grief, now held resolve.
"How much do you remember"Rein suddenly asked.
"What do you mean"jiro asked.
"Don't worry.Go and rest training begin tomorrow ".
Outside, the ash fell softly — like snow made of sorrow.
The dawn that followed would not be gentle.
*****