The GBS tracker was finally removed.
Silas lay still as the last mechanical tools were pulled away from his body. A dull ache lingered beneath his skin, but for the first time since his escape, the invisible chain binding him to the enemy was gone.
Freedom felt… strange.
As the vehicle moved forward, the low hum of the engine filling the silence, Silas finally spoke.
"Where are we going?" he asked quietly.
Hamza glanced at him.
"To the city of Rifle."
Silas frowned slightly.
"Rifle?"
Hamza laughed, the sound light but distant.
"Yeah. Just like your name—it sounds strange, but it fits. The city's name is strange too."
He leaned back, eyes half-closed.
"If I told you how that name came to be, we'd need a long night and a place to sit. It's a long story. Let's skip it for now."
Silas nodded, then hesitated.
"…I'm sorry if I offended you earlier," he said. "But there's something I want to ask."
Hamza turned toward him.
"Ask."
Silas took a breath.
"You said you lost your sense of feeling. But you can still laugh. You can still get angry. How does that work?"
Hamza was silent for a moment.
Then he answered.
"We didn't lose all our emotions," he said calmly. "We lost pain."
Silas looked at him.
"Pain of the heart," Hamza continued. "Pain of the body. Injury, heartbreak—those things don't reach us anymore. We can understand sadness… but we can't express it."
His voice was steady, almost empty.
"We know grief exists," Hamza said. "But we can't cry."
Silas was stunned.
Feeling emotions without truly feeling them—it didn't make sense.
"That's impossible…" Silas whispered.
Hamza didn't argue.
Silas lowered his voice.
"…What about powers?" he asked. "What are they exactly? How do I use mine?"
Hamza's expression became serious.
"Powers have levels," he explained. "It's said that if someone reaches a high enough level, their sense of pain can return."
Silas's eyes widened.
"But," Hamza added, "no one has reached that level in many years."
Silas swallowed.
"Then how do I use my power?"
"It's simple," Hamza replied. "You need control. Power without control destroys its owner first."
He looked ahead, toward the road leading into the distance.
"You'll learn in Rifle. That city exists for one purpose—to shape power."
Silas fell silent.
His thoughts drifted back to David.
To Ayaan.
If I were stronger… they wouldn't have died.
His hands clenched.
I won't let people die around me anymore just because I'm powerless.
I will become strong.
---
The towering walls of Rifle City soon came into view.
From a high observation window, Commander Roy watched the approaching vehicle.
He narrowed his eyes.
"That's Hamza's car," he said.
Turning sharply, he issued an order.
"Check them immediately. Make sure no one infected enters the city."
The moment Hamza, Ripper, and Silas stepped out, the soldiers froze.
They saw Hamza's missing arm.
Weapons were raised instantly.
"Virus exposure!" someone shouted.
Before panic could spread, Ripper spoke.
"He was infected before the virus spread," Ripper said coldly. "The arm was cut off in time."
The soldiers hesitated—but did not trust them.
All of them were locked inside a containment room.
Amina, however, was taken elsewhere.
She was placed in a separate chamber for examination—the strange creature David had cut from her body needed to be studied.
The results shocked everyone.
The creature wasn't a parasite.
It wasn't an insect.
It was a control-type ability—something used to manipulate a human from within.
That was how the robots had always known their location.
Someone was orchestrating everything.
Later, Hamza questioned Silas.
"Did you see anyone during the Raid Killers' attack?" he asked. "Anyone other than the robots?"
Silas shook his head.
"No," he said. "Only robots. Nothing else."
Silas was examined next.
No virus was found.
No control organism.
Nothing.
Silas and the others were finally released.
But as the gates of Rifle City closed behind them, one truth became clear—
The enemy wasn't just machines.
Someone intelligent was pulling the strings.
And Silas was already part of their plan.