—PART 1—
It was a quiet night inside the town of Greydome; the street lights were flickering, crickets were chirping in the distace,and tree leaves danced as the cold wind blew through—Silence was absolute. The dogs that had barked all through the day werenow sound asleep; even the cars, which purred like waking beasts in the afternoon, lay still and silent, except, Elis who was running for his life.
Bruises covered his face like messed-up make-up, and blood ran down his nose in thick, sticky streams. 'Holy shit!' he exclaimed, his voice sounding desperate.
Behind him stood a man in a yellow raincoat holding a machete. His eyes were as red as roses, and a wide grin stretched across his face, almost reaching his ears. A device strapped to his wrist shook with a continuous, erratic beep. 'A dead end!' the man barked, his voice laced with laughter.
Elis, froze in the sight of a giant wall that stood tall in front of him—he slowly yet shakingly turned to face the psychopatic man, he raised his arms in surrender, "Please—you don't have to do this," he calmly gazed at the man's eyes. Suddenly a single, steady beep erupted from Elis's device strapped to his wrist; the man lunged forward, he lifted his hand in the air, holding the machete, ready to strike.
2 hours ago.
Elis stepped out from his school with an exhausted look, his face screaming 'I want to sleep!' As a Triggered student, life isn't always that good compared to other individuals who studies from a Non-Triggered school—he was around six years old before his parents signed a form for Elis to volunteer to a government experiment, which is the device that was strapped around his wrist.
It's called a TriggerLine a device that conjures ability created by the government to form an army of powerful Triggereds—the cons? It'll cost you your life and your sanity, if the device was overused according to limit, it's over for you; the device works like a phone with one hundred percent of battery, every usage costs one bar of battery, once it reached to zero, using it will make you go mad also known as U.T: Unstable Triggereds.
Some got the most useful ability; some they call it as cool—and Elis's? Like a toilet inside an abandoned restroom, "Well, another night." he muttered under his breath.
Shadows emits from his right hand, slowly forming horizontal lines circulating around him before disappearing like a pitch-black smoke being disintegrated by the wind. His ability had never been something to brag about; allowing himself to teleport inside a 20 feet radius limit, his advantage: no matter how high the obstacle is, as long as it's inside the radius, he can still teleport there.
He glanced at his TriggerLine, noticing the battery was at two bar, "I better just walk home," he muttered. His gaze drifted to the dark sky, "…It's getting late—why do universities have such long useless vacant just to waste our time."
As he began walking, he slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone—by tapping the power button the screen glowed with faint-blue color, the screen showed "6:10PM"—suddenly, a notification banner popped out: DAILY GREYDOME NEWS! An Unstable-Triggered escaped the rehabilitation center.
SEEK SHELTER IMMEDIATELY!
ABILITY: OPPONENT STEP
"Opponent step?" He muttered. "An ability where you can teleport behind a certain target…"
"BOO!"
Elis's body jerked before turning around and facing the person who startled him, "Annie—You fucking moron," he said, clutching his chest.
"Did I scare 'ya?" Annie replied her voice laced with laughter that almost sounded like a broken printer.
"Yeah, you did."
A sudden realization hit him, "Aren't you supposed to be seeking shelter now?" Elis turned the phone to her; Annie leaned closer, eyes squinted as she scanned the screen.
"An unstable triggered?" She said. "They probably caught him, you worry so much."
He pulled the phone away, "They wouldn't announce something like this if they haven't caught the U.T, would they?"
"You're probably right," she smiled playfully. "Why don't we just get something to drink at Bake n Toast café—by the way, the rest of our classmates will be there."
"Which classmates do you actually mean? The annoying ones?" He crossed his arms. "…I hate those guys."
"Actually…"
Elis raised his eyebrows.
"You'll love those guys, trust me." she persisted.
"Yeah, of course—they have the same broken printer laugh as you."
Annie scratched the back of her neck, "ehh…"
"I'll pass."
***
"Elis just won't come," Annie muttered, as she walked through the bustling street of Greydome. "It'll be boring without him and Paul."
Annie was one of Paul and Elis's classmate since middle school—she has a curly pink hair, a heart piercing on her earlobe, and a TriggerLine on her left wrist. Her ability was Thermal Vision allowing her to see through walls by their opponent's body heat.
To her—studying at a Triggered school wasn't something to brag about, but there was one thing she appreciate the most: Paul and Elis.
20% of Triggereds are those who volunteered for experiments, and yet 80% are those who was forced; Annie was one of the 80%.
"Annie!" a girl called her outside the café.
***
1 Hour and 30 Minutes.
Inside the most rated restaurant in Greydome, the sound of the customers banters, utensil clashing to each other felt like a centipede inside Elis's ear. He shoved a spoonful of rice and pork into his mouth as he hasn't eaten in days.
"Everyone inside the town of Greydome must seek shelter immediately until further notice about an Unstable Triggered." Said the female news anchor on the TV screen, her voice was firm.
"Again? It always happens here—nothing changes in this town." Said by a random male customer, his tone laced with disappointment.
Elis shooked his head as he continued eating his dinner; he looked at the glass window by the right and saw a man wearing a yellow raincoat walking pass the restaurant. His gaze followed the man but when the time he blinked, he was already gone.
He blinked twice then shrugged it off, five minutes later he stepped outside the restaurant—the cold air blew through his skin making him shiver.
One customer behind him grunted and said, "The government couldn't do anything about it—they even let irresponsible parents take their child to volunteer in exchange for money."
"No wonder why some students are so depressed by now," he added.
Elis clenched his fist as the random customer's words struck him like a knife, it somewhat reminded him of something—a bloody trauma he experienced: The death of his young sister.
Even if he was already a Triggered before his parents took his sister to volunteer for an experiment, not mastering his 20 feet Shadow Slip was his biggest mistake; to him, he was just an imperfect man doing an imperfect job, just to make it perfect.
DING!
A notification rang from his phone, he pressed the power button only to see Annie's message, "I'm at the café please help."
***
At the café, Annie hid under the cash register; the place was in total darkness like a shadow devouring what it sees. Her TriggerLine was already activated before the power shut down, by using her Thermal Vision she witnessed her friends grotesque deaths; some were being gutted like a fish for lunch.
Suddenly her phone rang, the sound echoed through the place—when she opened her phone toward her face, the faint-blue glow painted her face, as well as the man in a yellow raincoat sitting beside her—smiling like a freak.
***
Her blood curdling scream was the last thing Elis heard outside the café, "ANNIE!" he barked. His triggerLine already had 18 bars after using the last remaining two to reach the place.
He vanished into thin air and when he finally got inside—he saw it: Annie's dead body sprawled across the floor, her neck had a huge jagged slice.
Elis froze, eyes shaking as he witnessed the death of his classmate—he vomitted on the ground, the foods he ate earlier came out in a disgusting mush of liquid. He fell down to his knees the smell off copper—blood—and the acidic stench of vomit filled the cramped space behind the cash register.
The sound started low—a mechanical stuttering noise that filled the silence of the café wasn't from the TV in a static but the sound of a TriggerLine malfunctioning.
"That sound—could it be," he slowly turned around, fist clenching. "Unstable Triggered…"
The man stood in the corner like a mannequin holding a machete—eyes were red, dark droplets that looked black under the dim lights; Elis quickly activated his TriggerLine with a loud steady beep—then vanished into thin air.
Shadows emitted from the air outside the café; he came out from it—but his device keeps on beeping, "Shit seventeen percent." This is the night he forgot about TriggerLines, [PROXIMITY ALERT: BEHIND YOU]
He had forgotten one crucial thing—that TriggerLines can sense enemies. The Unstable Triggered swung his machete but Elis was faster, he barely dodged the attack, he stretched his arm then threw a powerful punch at the man, forcing him to step back.
With a loud beep, he teleported away from the man but everywhere he goes his TriggerLine kept beeping [PROXIMITY ALERT: BEHIND YOU.] Just by looking at the reflection from the window—the man was still there, following him like a dog's tail.
He teleports again [16%]
Over [14%]
And over [5%]
again [1%]
Until he reached an empty alley where he had to make eye contacts with the man, Elis was breathing heavily. sweat ran down his forehead; he gazed at a digital clock attached to a wall inside a window, it says "8:15PM"
He had no choice but to gather all his courage to lunge at the man, as he ran he grabbed a jagged wood next to a dumpster and slammed it against his head. The man fell to his knee before standing back again but this time, he threw a punch at Elis.
"Gah!"
The unstable triggered grabbed him by the collar and slammed his face against the dumpster with a sick clank.
Clanck!—once
Clanck!—twice
Clanck—clanck!
His face were bruised like a messed up makeup; when he tried to stand up, the machete cleaved through his shoulder, "AHHH!!" he screamed.
"FUCK YOU!" Elis kicked the man's knee—but his knee wasn't just an ordinary knee, it felt like he kicked a goddamn wall.
The man kicked him in the face before lifting his machete in the air and was about to slash him; Elis, spotted an empty bottle under the dumpster and quickly took it then smashed it on the ground. He stabbed the man in the neck before sprinting away like a drunk, he lurched from side to side bouncing off the brick walls of the alleyway like a pinball.
"Fuck—a dead end." he muttered.
"A dead end!" the man barked, his voice laced with laughter.
Over the wall to his right side, he spotted a giant digital clock that says "8:19:48PM" He looked at the man directly in the eyes, "You don't have to do this." he panted. "I'm just a kid and I have futures—please sir, I know you're still there."
But the man didn't care; he lunged forward, arm stretched and ready to cleave him. Time slowed around Elis, his gaze drifted back to the clock.
"8:19:58PM"
"8:19:59PM"
—and finally, "8:20:00PM"
A loud and steady beep erupted from his device, [2%] before the man could've cleaved him with a machete, shadows errupted from top to bottom of Elis's body, then he re-appeared behind the man and stabbed him using the broken bottle earlier in the submental region.
Blood gushed out under his chin like a broken pipe, spreading across the floor before falling with a loud thud. Silence filled the air, punctuated by the sound of wailing sirens at the café; Elis's gaze drifted to a surveillance camera attached to a wall, staring right into him with a blinking red light that looked like a tiny mechanical eye.
He began walking out of the scene with his right hand clutching his wounded shoulder.
—PART 2—
The cold wind blew through everyones hair; dried withered leaves flew in the air like a gloomy confetti. Elis stood near Annie's coffin lying quietly in front of him, "I'm sorry, Elis."
A familiar voice cuts through the silence like a sharp knife; Elis turned to gaze at the person—only to see his male classmate in a black coat and circular glasses, a bandage attached to his right cheek and forehead, his name is Paul Murphy, "I was there, man—but it was too late for me to save her."
Paul gazed at Annie's photo over the coffin, her smile rises in a haunting memory for him, "I could've at least guided her way out of the café, but that U.T's opponent step was too risky for me."
"I've already told her—come with me and leave them, it's too late for us to save them," tears ran down on Paul's cheeks, his voice cracked as he speaked. "But she didn't listen, her friend Maria who lied unconcious behind the cash register was already loosing huge amount of bloods—she still went for her!" he barked.
Elis placed his hand on his back gently rubbing them, trying to calm him down, "…Calm down, your voice—this place is for mourning."
He and Paul were friends since highschool, his TriggerLine isn't even for offensive but defensive—his ability was meant for a stealth escape also known as "Device distraction." Allowing himself to freely escape without getting noticed by an opponent's TriggerLine.
Elis cupped Paul's cheek gently lifting it; he looked at him straight in the eyes, "It's not your fault—your TriggerLine is meant to save yourself. Not everyone here was blessed by a good ability, stop blaming yourself, man." his voice was firm, but deep inside he couldn't save Annie either.
The warmth of the moment was interrupted by a steady faint beep from his device, [PROXIMITY ALERT: OUTSIDE]
The sound of a low-heavy humming engine erupted outside. It didn't sound like any regular civilian car; it was rhythmic, a mechanical purr the sounded almost like a beast waking up.
A matte-black van with tinted windows skidded to a halt on the gravel path of the cemetery, The door slid open with a hiss of hydraulics. Four men in tactical gear the PUBLIC TASK-FORCE(PTF) stepped out. They weren't carrying any sign of flowers but rifles hanging on their chests and scanners.
"Elis Thornes?" the man in the lead asked, he wore a grey beret and had eyes that looked like cold stones. "You're coming with us. We have questions about the 'gas leak' at the café."
Paul stepped forward, fist clenched, "Whoa whoa, he's at a funeral, have some respect ghouls!"
The lieutenant didn't even looked at paul, but his gaze fixed to Elis's Triggerline sat hidden under a black suit sleeve, "We aren't asking kid, move or we'll move you."
The sound of the murmuring people who came to mourn at Annie's funeral filled the air; Elis took a big gulp before placing a hand on Paul's shoulder, "Don't worry about me, man. This nice gentlemen just wants to talk to me," he said, voice calm.
"They don't even have any resp—" Paul was cut off mid argue by Elis who calmy hushed him off.
"…I'll just tell them everything, calm down okay?"
Elis smiled and turned around; he crossed his wrists at the small of his back, a silent surrender to the men in the berets. The lieutenant pressed a hand on his back, guiding him to the van.
When they finally got inside, the van made a mechanical purr as it starts—the van drove away leaving the funeral in a complete silence. Paul stood still, his gaze followed the van's path before his vision to the vechile was blocked by a wall to the right.
***
Inside a dark interrogation room, lies a bearded man wearing a boonie hat, he took a puff from his cigar—the smoke curled up like lazy ghosts. A static noise erupted from his radio attached to his right chest, "Actual, ice-three. We secured a Blue finch at a funeral. A triggered, no resistance, and willing to give information.
The man in the boonie hat also known as Captain Graves, replied calmly yet cold by slightly tilting his head toward the radio, "Never heard of a calm triggered before, make sure to bring him here unharmed or else I'll fold your clothes while you're wearing them. over."
"Copy that."
Captain Graves picked up a brown folder on his desk and slowly opened them, a photo attached to the left side of the folder showed a previous footage of last night's—it was the man in a yellow raincoat lied with his stomach; Elis was there clutching his shoulder.
"'Kid's a blessed Shadow slipper." Captain Graves chuckled, showing a hint of amusement.
He closed the file with a faint thud before glancing at the blank wall in front of him; his expression was almost disturbed, he blinked twice then—10 years ago.
"Public task force, don't move or we'll use force!" lieutenant Graves roared as he breached open the door.
The man in a white long sleeved polo stood up with his arms raised; his eyes were red as roses, the TriggerLine on his wrist beeped rapidly.
"Echo-three to bravo-xix, we secured the child. over," said the other soldier as he pressed the radio.
The man watched his child being carried by the sergeant, "W-what are you doing with my daughter—HEY, HEY!" the man protested.
He teleported behind the sergeant and kicked him in the gut; Lieutenant Graves restrained him by lunging toward him with his arms snaked around the man's neck, "Private Allan, activate the E.M.P!"
The private obeyed with a quick nod; with a one push of a button, a strong shockwave surges through the street like a tidal wave, temporarily disrupting any devices for 2 hours.
The world was silent for the man; their voices were muffled after the E.M.P explosion like a fish in a glass bowl, "Mister Garrick! That is not your daughter!" Graves barked at him, small amounts of saliva came out shooting him like a cheap water gun.
Mister Garrick looked at his daughter being carried by the sergeant, "We have to take him in custody!"
"No, we need him alive! We have to take him in rehab!"
"But sir, this man is a Opponent ste—"
"The military will provide E.M.P disruption filled to prevent him from using his TriggerLine!"
Garrick listened to them in a muffled tone as if he's underwater, his gaze drifted to left and right; his red eyes dilating like it was about to pop out, his mind was out of this world. In his perspective he sees the little girl being carried by the sergeant as pink-haired, but from the others—she was a brown-haired girl, someone elses daughter.
"Mister Garrick, you're deeply confused. You overused your TriggerLine and it malfunctioned turning you into an unstable Triggered!"
"M-my daughter—"
Garrick was cut off with a powerful punch from Lieutenant Graves; the scene cuts back at the present. Suddenly there was a knock on the door.
"Come in!"
Four of the captain's men came in with Elis, no bruises, no sign of any abuses; Graves glanced at him, a faint smile formed, "Sit down, kid—all of you are dismissed except you Private Allan, give this kid a drink."
Without saying any words, the Private responded with a quick nod before walking out the door, leaving Captain Graves and Elis alone in the room.
Silence filled the air, punctuated by the loud humming from the air-conditioner.
"Are you going to put me in a rehab for years because I'm a Triggered?" Elis asked, his voice low yet calm. "…I'm no U.T."
"But I'm no government lapdog, if I was—yes I would take you to rehab," Graves replied, his voice sounded almost raspy due to the cigar.
Elis felt cautious at this moment, trusting government servants was never been easy for him—it started with the death of her young sister, "Okay, I trust you."
"Good choice—isn't it, Kid?" the captain slowly leaned back against his chair while his gaze fixed to Elis. "You can ask me some questions while private Allan is downstairs—I don't know what's taking him so long. Probably making juice for you."
He raised his eyebrows, "Go ahead kid, I'm an open book before the juice arrives."
Elis leaned forward, his eyes locked into captain graves's eyes, "Do you know about the Unstable Triggered that killed thirthy people inside the Bake n Toast café?"
"The U.T escapee?" Graves asked.
"Yes."
"You see—we have these thing called E.M.P Disruption signal. The thing ran out of charges after an operator was shot dead," Graves simple explain, his voice cutting through the silence.
"Even without the E.M.P, the doors will remain locked that time."
"Yeah, it will," Captain Graves replied with a nod. "Have you forgotten about the U.T's TriggerLine? Wasn't it announced through your phone?"
"The opponent step." Elis muttered under his breath. "Tell me more about TriggerLines."
Captain Graves sighed, "Let me guess—are you skipping school?"
"Well—" he puts on an awkward smile. "Yes."
Elis frowned; Graves chuckled and picked up a pen from the table then started inspecting it like he had never seen it before, "There are two types of TriggerLines, a 'bar based' and a 'cooldown based.'"
"Uhh—what exactly do you mean by that?"
"A 'bar based' TriggerLine counts every use of the ability—like in some video games it's a skill point," he started spinning the pen with his thumb and index finger. "…And the cooldown one, uhh. Imagine a stamina or a channeling ability in a video game, the more you use your ability the more the stamina you drain—it's basically like a phone battery."
The captain glanced at his TriggerLine strapped to Elis's arm lying on the table, "Like your Shadow Slip, you're a 'bar based.'"
The door suddenly opened, Private Allan entered with a glass of apple juice in his hands, "Well your book has been closed. Now tell me what you know about the 'gas leak.'" Graves leaned forward with narrowed eyes, his voice began to sound cold.
The Private puts the juice on the table and sat on the other side of the table; Elis on the other hand felt nothing but calmness as if he knows how to handle a situation like this, "Alright—I wasn't there when it happened. Annie messaged me last night after eating at 'Incredible Wok' at the Fifth District."
He turned on his phone; his phone tapped and slid across the screen then turned the phone to them showing Annie's conversation with him, "I just finished eating my pork that time—then I had no choice but to use my useless 20 feet teleporting ability. When I came there… I saw h-her."
The picture of Annie's corpse flashed before him like a haunting memory, "H-her, uhh… dead body, there's a slice on her neck."
"Do you need some time, kid?" Private Allan, asked.
Elis shook his head and proceeds to talk, "I'm fine," he said, his voice almost a whisper.
"Then I saw that man in a yellow raincoat—he chased me everywhere. Where ever I go, he always there, until we reached an alley where my TriggerLine reaches one percent."
"Okay, that's enough…" Captain Graves scoffed. "You're free to go. Finish your juice by the way."
"Wait, I can tell you—"
The Captain cuts him off, "We saw everything at the surveillance at the alley. A good comeback kid," a smile formed on his face, then a glare. "Too bad you never killed that, man."
Elis's eyes widened, his world slowed; he felt a shiver ran down his spine, "W-what do you mean?"
"That bottle stabbing you did only bought you some time—you never killed that man. On the footage, the man was seen standing up before disappearing in the wind twenty minutes after your escape."
"Unstable Triggereds are something you shouldn't mess with," Graves placed a hand on Private Allan's shoulder. "Take this kid to our base, he's not allowed to go home. The U.T mistakes him as a soldier."
"Copy that, captain." he replied, voice firm.
Elis stood up, the look on his face is completely puzzled, "Mistaken me as a soldier? Care to elaborate because I'm shitting myself here and plus how can you be so sure that I'm safe inside your base?" he asked, his voice raising.
"Firstly, you skip school and you never learned the perspective of an Unstable Triggered. Secondly, there's an E.M.P TriggerLine disruptor at the base so that U.T can't use his ability—even you." The captain replied.
"Then explain it to me now," a hint of annoyance formed on Elis's face. "…I want to know about it."
Graves glared at him for a bit, but to him It's worth explaining it to someone who skipped class, "Alright kid—ten years ago."
—PART 3—
It was a cloudy day in Greydome International Airlines, The plane's engines gave one final, dying whistle as they wound down. For a moment, there was only the sound of the wind whipping across the open tarmac. Then, with a heavy hydraulic sigh, the main cabin door swung outward.
A set of mobile stairs—the kind pushed into place by a ground crew—clattered against the side of the fuselage.
"Daddy, is this home?" a pink haired girl wearing a white dress named Sophia asked. "Please tell me."
A man in a plain white jacket, pulling a yellow luggage behind him replied with a warm smile, "We're almost there sweetie."
His name is David Garrick, just an ordinary loving father of Sophia who just got his first job set in the town of Greydome. He took a deep breath before holding her daughter's hand, as he guided her downstairs. Inside the airport was a long process before proceeding to enter the town, bag checking, passport checking, and signing papers; the country was strict like a prison but David finished the process after the long wait.
They finally stepped outside the airline and waited for the taxi, "Daddy, I feel sleepy," her daughter said with a yawn.
"Oh—" he kneeled down to lever her gaze. "Hop hop hop."
Sophia wrapped her arms around David's neck before he stood up carrying her with his arm, letting her sleep on his shoulder.
"Daddy, can you check your watch and tell me what time it is?"
"Oh sweetie, this isn't a watch. It's daddy's TriggerLine."
Taking care of her daughter wasn't been easy for him; after his wife left them for another man, he took her daughter into custody without Sophia's mother support. To add, David's ability is "Opponent step." An offensive type of ability where the TriggerLine can sense an enemy which the Triggered will teleport behind them.
Until a white taxi stopped in front of them; there's no driver, 'must be an auto-pilot vehicle, "Here's the ride sweetie," he said.
The moment they entered the taxi; the vehicle made a loud futuristic humm, "Exact location, please."
David pulled out his phone and read the message across the screen, "Uhm… fifth district."
"Understood—please remain sitted and comfortable," said the system of the taxi before driving away.
He looked outside the window; he watched the city slide past in muted colors—towering concrete blocks, flickering billboards, and watchful street cameras that followed the taxi's movements with unblinking red lights. Greydome felt colder behind the glass, distant and mechanical, like a place that observed rather than welcomed.
Sophia shifted in his arms, stirring. David adjusted his grip instinctively, pulling her closer as the taxi hummed steadily beneath them.
"Daddy, are we home yet?" she murmured, half-asleep.
"Not yet sweetie," he whispered, pressing his cheeks against her hair. "…Just rest."
"We had arrived in the destination, you may now exit the vehicle." Said the system as it stopped at a donut shop.
Both of them stepped out the vehicle; Sophia, rubbed her arms due to the cold temperature of the town. David, noticed her shivering—so he placed his luggage down, unzipping it and pulling out a small brown jacket.
"Here, wear this," he whispered; he glanced at the glass window of the donut shop. "…Let's grab some donuts and some hot drinks, alright? Come on."
He gently grabbed his daughter's hand as they entered the donut shop; the sound of the wind chime clanking, echoed through the donut shop.
The place is empty as its seems; a cashier stood behind the cash register with an exhausted look on her face.
The place felt like an abandoned restaurant, spider webs can be seen below, the donuts looked unappetizing and gloomy. Even the pastries had no hopes for this donut shop.
"Just sit right there, okay?" he said, pointing at an empty table. "I'll be getting us some chocolate drinks and donuts."
His daughter walked toward the empty seat and sat on it; David, pulled out his wallet and glanced at the menu over the cashier's head.
"May I get some—two chocolate drinks and two donuts with chocolate filling inside, please," he asked, a gentle smile formed on his face.
"Okay, that'll be four-sixty six," the cashier replied, her voice sounded cold as an ice.
His smile disappeared due to the high price, back in his hometown donuts costs lower than two-fifty eight. But he just shrugged it off and pulled out five-dollars in his wallet.
The cashier took the bill without a word. Her fingers were pale, almost gray under the fluorescent lights, nails bitten down to the quick. She slid the change back across the counter with a dull clack, then turned away.
"Please take a seat," she said, flatly. "It'll be ready soon."
David nodded and walked back toward the table. Sophia sat with her legs dangling off the chair, hugging herself as she watched the glass display.
Up close, the donuts looked worse—cracked glaze, chocolate filling like dried blood along the edges.
"These don't look yummy," she whispered.
David forced a smile and crouched beside her. "They're better when they're warm," he said. "Trust me."
The heater in the shop sputtered once, then went quiet.
A faint beep vibrated against his wrist.
David stiffened.
He glanced down at his TriggerLine, [1%]. He shrugged it off then stood up and sat on a chair across Sophia. But the vibration came again, sharper this time. Not an activation. Not a warning, but something else.
Behind the counter, the cashier froze mid-motion.
The lights flickered.
For a half second, David saw it in the reflection of the display glass—a shadow where a person should've been, stretched too long, standing too close behind him.
His heart skipped.
He turned.
Nothing.
"Daddy?" Sophia said softly, sensing the change in him. "What's wrong?"
David straightened slowly, scanning the shop. The wind chime at the door swayed even though no one had entered. Outside, the street was empty—no cars, no pedestrians, just the steady glow of streetlights humming in unison.
The cashier set the tray down on the counter.
"Order up," she said.
Her voice echoed too much for such a small room.
David swallowed, then took Sophia's hand again. "Stay close," he murmured, low enough that only she could hear. "Okay?"
She nodded.
As he stepped forward, his TriggerLine pulsed once more—longer this time—its surface warming against his skin, like a heartbeat waking up after a long sleep.
Minutes later, they stepped outside the donut shop, holding their each cup of hot chocolate drinks. His eyes scanned the street, observing each movements. Newspapers flying, a single red car passed by, and the flickering street light above them.
"This place is boring," she said, pouting. "I just want to lay on the bed."
He took a sip of his drink, then looked through his phone's map, "Well, we're close. We can just walk sweetie."
"I hate walking, daddy."
**
After minutes of walking, they've finally arrived at their new apartment. They walked on each stairs until they've finally reached the twenty-sixth floor.
"I can't believe their elevator's broken," David muttered, his voice laced with disappointment. "But at least we're here."
His disappointment turned into frustration after seeing the concrete railings of the balcony had a huge wall, like someone breached through it.
David froze.
The hole in the concrete railing wasn't clean—it was jagged, edges crumbling outward as if something had burst through from the inside. Fine dust still clung to the surface, faintly illuminated by the corridor lights. A cold draft seeped in through the breach, carrying the distant hum of the city far below.
"…Stay behind me," David said quietly.
Sophia clutched the hem of his jacket, peeking out from behind his leg. "Daddy… did someone break it?"
David didn't answer right away. His eyes traced the fractures spider-webbing across the wall, then drifted to the floor. There were scuff marks—dragged, uneven. Too deep to be from furniture.
His TriggerLine pulsed once.
[1%]
He swallowed.
"No," he said at last, forcing his voice steady. "This didn't break. This was… pushed."
The hallway lights flickered, just once, then stabilized. Somewhere far below, a siren wailed and died out. The rest of the floor was silent—too silent for a building this tall. No footsteps. No voices. Not even the hum of an elevator trying to move.
David stepped closer to the hole and looked down.
Twenty-six floors of empty air yawned beneath it.
His grip tightened around Sophia's hand.
"Inside," he said gently but firmly. "We're going inside now."
As he reached for the apartment door, his TriggerLine grew warm against his wrist—no longer a warning, no longer dormant.
Awake.
And for the first time since landing in Greydome, David Garrick felt it clearly:
They weren't alone.
[PROXIMITY ALERT: INSIDE THE ROOM.]
"Sophia!?" he barked.
When he ran inside, he saw it—a man inside wearing the same outfit as David, held Sophia as hostage with a pistol's barrel pressed against her head. He froze, extending his hand toward the man, "Don't hurt my daughter—I can give you anything you want just don't hurt her."
The man didn't answer; he looked up, revealing his red eye and a device strapped to his wrist which is a TriggerLine, glitching.
"I read about this—" David muttered, breathing heavily. "An unstable Triggered."
"Daddy," Sophia called for him with a shaky voice. "I'm scared."
"This'll be over soon sweetie, let me just handle this and stay calm."
David closed his eyes then he took a deep breath; he noticed it's been five minutes so his TriggerLine had charged. He glanced at it and saw—[2%].
Taking this chance to use his Opponent Step, without getting unstable.
His device made a steady beep [1%], and then—he teleported behind the man and grabbed his arm holding the pistol before he could even pull it. The strange man tried to wrestle, but no match to David's strength; Sophia turned his head toward then as she ran, he watched his father shoot the hell out of the Unstable Triggered's head.
But—Sophia didn't noticed the jagged wall she's about to ran into; David, acted fast when he sees this. He can't teleport to Sophia since his TriggerLine only works for enemies—so he pushed the strange man toward her then teleported behind him [0%], but it was too late.
Sophia fell; David jumped. Both of them came rolling in the air until Sophia plummeted hard on the ground while David landed on the roof of a car.
David's vision went black for a second, until—he woke up, dazed, and confused.His TriggerLine beeped eratically as he tried to stand up with a groan. When he finally stood up, he glanced at his dead daughter lying on the ground, blood spreaded beneath her body. He didn't speak, he didn't moved—he just stood there staring at her blankly. Red colors started to crawl in his eyes.
He tilted his head, processing everything around him like a puzzled animal getting lured to a trap. He pressed his hands against his eyes as he began to take a deep breath. The world slowed around him, noises started to sound muffled.
A loud ringing cut through the silent before he moved his hands away from his eyes and there he saw it: Sophia was missing.
"Sophia?" he muttered.
"SOPHIA!!" he barked; he walked around, eyes scanning the place. "SOPHIA, WHERE ARE YOU!?"
He glanced at his TriggerLine strapped quietly around his wrist [0%]. But he had no time to be confused; he planned to run back at the donut shop, staggering.
When he got there, he saw the cashier standing quietly behind the counter, "Miss!"
The cashier looked at him from top to bottom; her expression went from stoic to shocked.
"S-Sir?" she froze. "Y-you're bleeding.
David, touched his forehead with his fingers then looked at it; his middle and index finger were painted by his blood running down his forehead in thick, sticky streams.
"I-I have no time—have you seen my little girl?" he said, his voice breaking in desperation. "S-She was this tall, pink hair, and a brown jacket."
The cashier shook her head with a surprised look on her face, "N-no sir, I'm sorry."
Without saying a single word, David left the donut shop and started looking for his daughter. He watched the whole place in a muffled sound like he's stuck inside a fish bowl. The sound of the wind blewing through him is enough to make his head hurt more.
He tried looking for her everywhere, reaching from the fifth district to first district. It was already night time; his knee fell to the ground, he felt hopeless.
Until an ambulance drove pass him, its siren echoed through the night.
[PROXIMITY ALERT: Ambulance]
His red eyes we're flaming, fist clenching, and teeth gritting. David, used his Opponent step and teleported inside the ambulance.
"WHOA! YOU CAN'T BE HERE SIR!" the medic barked.
He was furious when he saw his daughter lying on the stretcher, "You took her without me!? Are you—" before he could finish his words, a container sitting quietly beside him that reads Human Organ, sent a shiver down his spine.
Furious, he grabbed a scalpel from the medical kit—the ambulance was filled by screams of pain and desperation for an escape before David jumped outside the vehicle with Sophia in his arms.
He ran through the streets with his daughter, "They think they can just cut off my daughter like this?" he said, voice breaking mid-cry. He spotted a nearby store where they sell umbrellas, boots, and raincoats.
He walked toward the store and never bought anything, but stole a yellow raincot to hide his identity—just in case the medics started searching for him.
When they got back to his apartment, David laid her down on the sofa. He sighed out of relief and sat on the chair.
"Daddy?" Sophia called her. "Are we home now?"
David took off his raincoat, "Yes sweetie."
When suddenly the door was breached open by a man wearing tactical gears, four men also entered wearing the same thing—rifles pointed toward him.
"Public task force, don't move or we'll use force!" lieutenant Graves roared as he breached open the door.
David stood up with his arms raised; his eyes were red as roses, the TriggerLine on his wrist beeped rapidly.
"Echo-three to bravo-xix, we secured the child. over," said the other soldier as he pressed the radio.
He watched his child being carried by the sergeant, "W-what are you doing with my daughter—hey, HEY!" the man protested.
He teleported behind the sergeant and kicked him in the gut; Lieutenant Graves restrained him by lunging toward him with his arms snaked around the man's neck, "Private Allan, activate the E.M.P!"
The private obeyed with a quick nod; with a one push of a button, a strong shockwave surges through the street like a tidal wave, temporarily disrupting any devices for 2 hours.
The world was silent for David; their voices were muffled from the E.M.P explosion, "Mister! That is not your daughter!" Graves barked at him, small amounts of saliva came out shooting him like a cheap water gun.
David looked at his daughter being carried by the sergeant, "We have to take him in custody!"
"No, we need him alive! We have to take him in rehab!"
"But sir, this man is an Opponent Ste—"
"The military will provide E.M.P disruption filled to prevent him from using his TriggerLine!"
Garrick listened to them in a muffled tone as if it was he's underwater, his gaze drifted to left and right; his red eyes dilating like it was about to pop out, his mind was out of this world. In his perspective he sees the little girl being carried by the sergeant as his daughter, but from the others—she was a brown-haired girl, someone elses daughter.
"Sir, you're deeply confused. You overused your TriggerLine and it malfunctioned turning you into an unstable Triggered!"
"M-my daughter—"
David was cut off mid-talk after Lieutenant Graves punched him, "Sir! You're deeply confused! That is not your daughter!"
Graves looked at the Private soldier standing beside him, "Get him out of here."
When the Private obeyed and lead David outside; Graves smelled a strong pungent smell that came through his nose—he looked around and spotted David's yellow luggage. He opened it and saw the gut wrenching corpse of—Sophia.
Flashback
After David stood up dazed; he took his daughter, carrying her toward their apartment and stuffing her inside his luggage. after that—he went back to the scene where they fell then pressed his hand against his eyes.
At the ambulance—two medics were treating a random kid who suffered from suffocation where David mistakes him for his daughter.
10 years after
After escaping the rehabilitation center, David stood outside the Bake n toast café where he sees the soldiers 10 years ago who took his daughter as an armless individuals but from a different perspective, they were just innocent beings who wants to enjoy some pastries and there's Annie and her friends.
At the alley where he chased Elis, David mistakes him as Lieutenant Graves holding her daughter while in reality, he was just a kid trying to save Annie at the café.
***
Present
Captain Graves leaned back against his chair, "Unstable Triggereds are not just any maniacs, they are people who lost their cognitive ability, putting them in a state of disorientation, more like a Dissociation Psychosis or Schizoprenia.
Elis sat there, frozen as he drank his apple juice, "So—he mistaken me as you, he mistaken Annie as a soldier last night."
Private Allan stood from his chair, "That's why you're staying in our base, until we get you prepped, to hunt The man in a yellow raincoat."
—PART 4—
The cold wind hung-heavy in the air; it was a peaceful night inside the PTF's base, and there was Elis sitting on a military folding chair—he gazed at the stars quietly as if it was there's something special about it.
"Some sleeping problem, kid?"
Elis turned around and saw Captain Graves smoking behind him.
"Yeah—my mind is lost, sir."
"How so?" Graves asked.
"I was reviewing for our upcoming exam when I read something in an article—why do Triggereds can't join the army?" Elis quietly asked, his voice laced with confusion.
Our typical Graves is always the one who answers straight and directly without hesitating, "Risk of rebellion."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm answering non-metaphorically nor poetically, but imagine this, kid. Two Unstable Triggereds are enough to wipe an army in an hour," Said the captain. "Even a stable Triggered who'd rebell can also wipe the army, even if you put one hundred generals in a room with a single Triggered."
Graves took a long drag of his cigarette, the cherry glowing bright in the dark. "That's why the government built an E.M.P.T.D the Electromagnetic pulse TriggerLine Disruptor specifically made for Triggereds."
Elis looked back at the stars, "So if I fail this training and my battery hits [0%] and I went full 'Garrick'… am I an enemy of the state?"
Graves didn't answer for a long time. The only sound was the distant hum of the base's generator. "You're only an enemy if you stopped being a person, kid. David didn't rebel. He just lost the ability to see the world as it is. That's the real danger. Not the power—the perception."
He stood up and tossed the cigarette's butt into a sand-filled canister. "Go to sleep, Private Allan will wait for you in the pit. He's set the simulation to 'Fifth District.' You're going back to that apartment, Elis. You're going to face the ghost of Sophia."
Elis stood up, his legs feeling heavy. "Wait—I'm fighting him? In a simulation?"
"Not him," Graves said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You have to fight the urge to look away. The simulation will recreate the moment David snapped. You need to step into his space, use Opponent step, and stop the fall. If you can save 'sophia' in the sim, you can beat David in the street."
Battery: [100%]
Tomorrow morning: 10:20:18AM
The lights of the Training Pit dimmed, replaced by a flickering neon of a holographic city. The air suddenly felt colder, smelling of ozone and wet concrete.
Elis stood in a room with eyes closed, when he opened his eyes he was wearing a plain-white jacket, and the person who took the pink-haired girl crying as hostage stands in front of him.
"Son, assume you're David Garrick and you're TriggerLine isn't your shadow slip any more, but Opponent step," Graves barked, his voice echoed through the room.
This is the time Elis realized, he's inside the simulation. It felt so real to him, the voice of the crying child, the floor he's standing on, everything never felt vivid but real.
He narrowed his eyes; he took a deep breath—then suddenly—BEEP!
In a blink of an eye, he was already behind the opponent; he grabbed the enemy's hand that is holding the pistol—and when Sophia finally broke away, she ran heading to the door but her gaze was locked to Elis/David.
When Elis saw this; the world suddenly slowed around him—he thinks, he analyzed the situation, "If David had the time to push his opponent toward her, he could've teleport behind him but it's no use. She's too far from me," he said in his thoughts.
"Don't just watch, boy. Save her!" Graves voice boomed. "You can't teleport behind her because she's not an enemy."
Elis gazed at his TriggerLine, it's the same thing as what happened ten years ago, [1%]. His intentions was not to waste it but something more strategic, the device strapped around his wrist wasn't his friend at this moment, but time.
He grabbed the opponent's pistol and aimed it toward the opponent's head, then once again—he aimed the pistol toward the fire extinguisher sitting quietly beside the jagged wall. As the bullet pierced through, it made a loud hissing sound. A dry, cloudy blast sprayed toward her face, causing Sophia to step back—buying Elis some time to run toward her.
But she felt scared and confused, she stood up and kept on running with her hands wiping the thick layer of white dust on her face. Her feet reaches the edge of the jagged wall—but Elis was just in time to catch her and repositioned her to lay on top of him acting as a barrier protecting Sophia from the impact.
And there it is, they both fell on the vehicle's sun roof. Eli's back hits the roof with a loud THUMP-KRRK.
The impact felt so real that he did even feel his back aching after the fall, he groaned and said, "Fuck! Does technology nowadays had evolved?"
"Good job, kid." Graves voice cut through the silent of the simulated street.
"He didn't used his TriggerLine, but a deadly weapon to save Sophia's life," Private Allan muttered, but his mouth was too close to the mic. enough for Elis to hear.
"I'd take that as a compliment," he replied, as he barely stood up.
The place slowly dissolves like a dust being blown by the wind; the place isn't the fifth district anymore but a training pit painted with plain white with a observation window above him.
Private Allan, Sergeant Michael, and Lieutenant Phantom stood inside the window. A look of impression formed on their faces even with the masks on.
The door behind Elis opened with a hydraulic sigh, "Good job, son. Instead of going full U.T, you used a pistol to shoot a fire extinguisher," Graves said, clapping as he walked toward him.
"David was stupid unlike you, isn't he?" he added.
Elis shook his head as he wipped the sweat on his forehead, "He was just a panicking—loving father who couldn't save her daughter, he can't teleport behind her because there's no detected enemy outside the hallway."
"I know…" Graves face started softening just a fraction of Elis's defense of David. He looked at the boy—sweaty, aching, but still holding onto his humanity.
"Compassion will get you killed in the streets, kid," Said the captain, his voice dropping to a gravelly low. "But it's probably the only thing keeping your battery from hitting zero right now."
He turned to the observation window and signaled the others. The hydraulic doors at the top opened and Private Allan, Sergeant Michael, and the silent, masked Lieutenant Phantom descended from the stairs.
"Sergeant, get him a physical scan," Graves ordered. "I don't care if it was a hologram; a fall like that can trick the nervous system into a real shut down."
"On it," Michael pulled out a device that looked like a thick white pen. "Don't move, kid."
A blue light emerged from the device crawling across my body as the sergeant scanned me, searching for any injuries. He stood up and shook his head, "No sign of injuries—just a phantom pain."
"Phantom pain, I see…" Graves pondered, and then. "Give him the P.P.N.S shot."
"What's that?" Elis asked.
"Phantom Pain Nervous Stabilizer, leaving you like that can force your nervous system to shut down, your brain can be tricked by thinking you literally fell from the twenty-sixth floor," Graves explained.
"I see…"
——————————————————————
Paul Murphy
Occupation: Student/Triggered
Greydome bookstore
11:35:25AM
Ability: Device Destruction
The bookstore was quiet and filled by nothing but the sound of the footsteps, paper sliding with a soft Shhff, and the distant noise from the cashier.
Paul stood in the Triggered Base Books while on the phone.
"Which one of these are the right one?" he said, fingers tapping across the screen. "I couldn't even find the right book, damn it.
His gaze drifted from left-to-right and there he saw it, the man in a yellow raincoat or David Garrick outside the window.
He squinted his eyes to see clearly; he walked closer to the window.
When he finally took a good glance of the man, he realized who it was—the man who killed Annie back at the café. His heart skipped, body froze. He activated his device with a faint beep, and started backing away.
David Garrick
Occupation: Triggered(Unstable)
Numbers float and shook in the edge of his vision, he sees paul as Graves mocking him with a smirk. David's teeth gritted, fist clench; he looked at his device—[Error! can't detect].
"Device Destruction, you were a triggered all along Lieutenant Graves!" he barked; he slammed his head against the glass, spider web cracks started to form as blood spread on the window each hit.
A security guard walked in, "Hey buddy!" he titled his head toward the radio attached to the right side of his chest. "I gonna need some back-up here."
"Kid, we got this," the guard quietly placed his hand on his pistol sitting quietly on the right side of his leg. "Hey! Hey!"
Both of them watched David bang his head against the window before it finally breaks, the loud shattering was loud enough to be heard by everyone inside the bookstore.
David teleported behind the guard as he placed his hand on top of his forehead, and the other one under the security's chin then snapped it with a sick crack.
Paul watched in horror, "HOLY SHIT!"
The security guard's body hit the floor with a heavy, limp thud. His radio hissed with a static—a voice on the other end asking for a status report that would never came.
David stood over the body, his hands stained with his own forehead blood. He slowly turned his head toward paul with dilating red eyes. To David, the guard was just a hologram he'd just cleared and Paul was still the smirking Graves hiding behind a mask of static.
"GIVE-ME-BACK-MY-DAUGHTER!" he growled, voice echoing through the bookstore. "Where is she?! You're treating me like I'm crazy! I know what you did, you're using her to forcefully voluteer with your TriggerLine bullshit experiments!"
"W-What are you talking about?" Paul stuttred, body shaking.
But David heard "You're daughter is nothing but a guinea pig!"
"You son of a bitch!" David yelled before teleporting behind the cashier.
Paul's device was still activated and currently at [75%], his ability disrupts David's TriggerLine instead of teleporting behind him, he appeared behind the cashier.
"Who the fuck are you?" the cashier asked. "Y-you're bleeding!"
David sees him as a Private soldier, and falsely heard his word as "Kill me, it won't do you any good!"
The cashier, a college student in a part time job named Leo, took a trembling step back, his hand reaching for the silent alarm under the counter, "Look, man, the ambulance is on the way. Just—"
"WHY ARE THEY TAKING HER BACK!?" David roared, his voice cracking with a mixture of grief and fury.
In David's ear, Leo didn't say an ambulance was coming, he heard: "The captain is coming to take her back to the lab."
Angry, he threw Leo behind the counter—he fell with his back first. But Paul was just in time to pull him away from David. He couldn't use his Opponent step to teleport behind the cashier due to Paul's Device Destruction jamming the signal.
"Dude, thanks," Leo said, groaning.
"Yeah, I wish could do the same to her," Paul replied, eyes fixed to David.
"Who?"
Elis Thornes
Occupation: Student/Triggered
Thirteenth District
Ability: Shadow Slip
11:57:56AM
The military vehicle skittered across the hardened asphalth in the highway of the Thirteenth District, "There are probably victims inside the bookstore at the First District," he muttered loud enough for Captain Graves who was steering the wheel to hear.
"Private Allan, do you have the E.M.P.T.D ready?" Graves asked.
"Affirmative, 'Cap," Allan replied.
Elis who sat quietly on the passenger seat, hid one button for the E.M.P.T.D, "Let's get this guy sleeping on the rehebalitation center's bed."
Paul Murphy
Occupation: Student/Triggered
12:00:02PM
Greydome Bookstore
Three of them stood in the middle of the bookstore, exchanging looks. Paul glanced at his TriggerLine—[60%] then back to David.
David stares at them like he wants to eat them alive—he's teeth gritted, mouth drooling like an animal. His body jerked as he tried to teleport but Paul's TriggerLine keeps Jamming his device.
"We don't have your daughter," Paul said, his voice dropping low.
In David's perspective: "We have your daughter."
"If so… just give her back to me!," he growled.
Paul and Leo exchanged looks before shaking their head, their face screaming 'There's nothing we can do.'
David without any choice pulled out a gun from the pocket of his raincoat and aimed the barrel straight at Paul's head, "You leave me with no choice, soldier!"
"Can you jam his gun too?" Leo asked.
"Fuck, no," Paul raised his hands in the air.
In David's vision: He sees Paul also pulling out a gun from his pocket.
"Don't you dare! I will shoot you!" David barked.
"I'm raising my hand!" Paul also barked. "I'm no threat to you, sir!"
In a disoriented state, David watches him slowly pulling a gun to mock him, "Go ahead David, I'm a threat!"
When David snapped, he was about to pull the trigger when someone behind him kicked him. He fell to his knee and also dropping his gun on the floor.
"Paul!" Elis called his name. "Are you hurt!?"
Since Paul's ability only works on enemies; A perfect strategy to restrain him—Captain Graves and the rest also breached the entrance with rifles aimed at David.
When David's gazed drifted to Elis, he also saw him as Lieutenant Graves but this time he's holding Sophia in his arms, "Daddy!"
"There are two of you huh? The government's been creating clones. You monsters!" David roared, his voice laced with a mixture of grief and fury. "I promise you sweetie, we'll go home back to New York—Just please!" his voice breaked, as tears ran down his cheeks.
"Don't hurt her!" he added, yelling as he wailed. "I'm sorry, sweetie. Daddy couldn't save you."
Elis watched him, his face started to softened, "Captain, please don't kill him. We can still save him." he muttered, loud enough for the rest to hear.
"It's no use, son. There is no cure! Every actions you do is a threat to him," Captain Graves, explained. "Try jerking your body!"
Elis hesitated and yet still obeyed, he faintly jerked his body. Then David yelled, "N-No don't hurt her, please!"
Looks like everything they do is a threat to David.
David had one card to play; one card to risk his life just to save her daughter. He knew that everyone who's too far away from Paul are not protected by the Device Destruction. He spotted the Private holding a button, which is an E.M.P that they used ten years ago.
He lunges forward to pick up the gun then teleported behind Private Allan and stole the button before kicking him and sending him stumbling on the floor.
The PTF tried to shoot them using their rifles but it's no use since he can still teleport behind them; he caught everyone's weapon in a swift motion before using Captain Graves as a hostage.
"Do one wrong move and this girl gets it!" David roared. "Don't make me shoot this girl!"
He sees Captain Graves as a young hostage girl, "Seriously?" Graves asked, voice laced with disappointment.
David stood in the center of the wreckage, his arm wrapped around captain Grave's neck, the pistol pressed against the captain's temple. In David's eyes, he was threatening to shoot a young girl in front of the squad of clones.
"Stay back!" David screamed.
Graves didn't struggle. He stood perfectly still, his eyes tracking Paul and Elis. "Garrick," Graves said, his voice calm and clinical. "You're holding a 190 pound man. Does this feel a girl to you? Feel the weight. Use your head."
He never heard it the same way the captain said it, except: "You're holding a young girl that can change the world, do you even feel ashamed that you're killing the girl who can make your daughter into a machine like you. Use your head, stupid!"
Paul's TriggerLine hits [20%], he watched the scene with a mixture of worriness and fear of becoming a U.T, "Elis," he quietly called him. "My battery won't reach it anymore, if we tried to keep him alive—then, I'll be lost."
Elis had to find a way to free Captain Graves from David's restrain. He pondered as his gaze drifted to the military vehicle outside with an E.M.P.T.D inside, then to David's gun. As he remembered he already had a second button he hid earlier in his pocket. "If I managed to press the button then teleport to him to steal his gun, that would be too risky. The wave of the disrupting filled travels for at least 0.2 seconds, and since David is closer to the door, then he's the first one to get affected." he wondered in his thoughts.
Paul's device began to beep rapidly [10%], the blue light of his TriggerLine turning a jagged, angry crimson. "Uhm… Elis you better hurry up now, or I have to turn this off!" he took a big gulp. "I have no choice, I have to turn it off or I'm going to snap too."
Elis began to breathe calmly, "Paul—shut it down."
Paul didn't say another word nor argue back; he quietly obeyed and then—BEEP. His TriggerLine shuts off, the second Elis heard the beep, he quickly pushed the button, the E.M.P explodes with a futuristic BOOM, the blue disruption filled reached David; Elis quickly teleports toward him before the wave could've reached him—but Elis failed to steal the gun from David's hand but Private Allan was faster.
He quickly threw a powerful punch heading toward David's face; the second he fell down on the floor. Allan grabbed the rifle and shot David before he could shot Graves, the bullet pierced through his head like a butter.
The gunshot was the loudest thing Paul had ever heard. It wasn't the "futuristic boom" of an EMP; it was the dry, mechanical crack of a high-caliber rifle.
David's body didn't fly back. It simply slumped, the yellow raincoat settling into a heap on the floor. The blood pooled quickly, soaking into the pages of a fallen book titled Hope for the Hopeless.
Private Allan lowered his rifle, the barrel smoking. He looked down at David's body with zero emotion, then looked at Graves. "Target neutralized, Captain. Threat to commanding officer eliminated."
Elis was still on the floor, his hands covered in the spray of the impact. He stared at the spot where David's head had been. Just seconds ago, this man was crying for his daughter. Now, he was just a "target neutralized."
"You... you didn't have to," Elis whispered, his voice cracking. "I had the gun... I was right there..."
Graves didn't look at the body. He looked at Elis, then at Paul. "Private Allan followed protocol. In a hostage situation with a high-level Triggered, we don't 'disarm.' We eliminate. If he had pulled that trigger, I'd be dead.
Paul stood up slowly as he lets go of Leo, his legs shaking. His TriggerLine was a dead, cold band on his wrist. He looked at the dead security guard, then at the dead "Monster" in the yellow raincoat.
Elis watched him David as his hand was still clutching something—not the gun, but a small, crumpled piece of paper he must have kept.
It was a drawing of a yellow house with a sun in the corner.
Elis reached out, his fingers trembling as he gently pried the crumpled paper from David's cooling fingers. The edge of the drawing was damp with blood, but the yellow crayon house was still bright.
"He just wanted to go home," Elis whispered, his voice disappearing into the cavernous bookstore.
Captain Graves stepped over David's legs, his shadow falling over Elis.
He looked down at the drawing, then back at the boy. "That paper is evidence of a Tier-1 Unstable's psychological state. Give it to Allan."
Elis didn't move. He didn't even look up. He slowly folded the drawing and tucked it into the inner pocket of his pants. "No. It's garbage, remember? He was just a 'target.' Targets don't have houses."
Graves eyes narrowed, but he didn't reached for the paper, "Fine—keep your ghost."
David used all of his strength to push a tear out of his eyes; Elis noticed this and began to crouch and closed his eyes using his hand, "I'm not here to rebell—I have my own agenda. I'm no government's lapdog."
"Neither the PTF. A disavowed team," Graves replied, coldly. "We're no longer a government's lapdog—but a task force who rebells to kill Hendrick Gallagher.