The underground complex dimmed to a low amber glow as the disciples filed out one by one, each burdened with the weight of the mission ahead. Only Mara and Laga remained in the command room.
Mara stood in silence, eyes scanning the map still illuminated by the central console. She turned slightly, glancing at Laga who now stared into space, as though wrestling with something far older than the events of the day.
"You've been unusually quiet, Master," she said gently. "Even for you."
Laga blinked once, his expression unreadable. Then he stepped forward and placed a hand on the table, his voice low.
"Do you believe in fate, Mara?"
She hesitated. "I believe in people like you who bend fate."
He gave a quiet laugh, barely a whisper. "I once thought that too."
---
Ten Years Ago
Borderlands Military Outpost – Codename: Night Fortress
The air was thin, cold, and restless. Sand and ash danced on the wind, and young General Sanda stood atop the cliffs with a blade dripping enemy blood. He was only nineteen, but the rumors had already begun—about the phantom soldier who never lost, the commander who saved battalions alone, the boy who appeared from nowhere with strategy, strength, and skill beyond any mortal man.
His soldiers didn't know he was also their doctor, their alchemist, their engineer. At night, when they slept, he repaired their broken armor, treated their wounds with compounds not known in any hospital, and placed hidden protective arrays in the outpost without anyone suspecting.
When the war ended, the world celebrated a victory led by many, but no one remembered the name Sanda. He had vanished—by choice.
---
Back in the present, Laga sat down, resting his weight in the chair that creaked under the burden of stories untold.
Mara watched him carefully. "Is the past haunting you?"
"No," he said softly, "The past is reminding me. Reminding me of who I am… and who I can never be again."
---
Elsewhere, in the glass tower of Aureon Group, Rayan stood in his private penthouse, overlooking the city skyline. On his desk lay a classified file marked with a single name:
"Project Laga: Level 0 Access Only"
The document wasn't created by him. In fact, it came from a government branch no longer in existence—an elite intelligence unit that investigated anomalies too strange for traditional eyes.
And yet, here it was, passed quietly through secret channels. He opened it.
Inside was a photograph—grainy, old, yet unmistakable.
Sanda. Age 16. Standing atop a pile of destroyed experimental mechs, smiling faintly, with a sword strapped across his back.
Rayan froze. "So it's true…" he whispered.
---
In a quiet town just a few hours away, an old martial arts dojo buzzed with excitement. Its master, now retired and blind, told a story to a new group of disciples:
"I once trained a boy. Never seen anything like him. He stayed just three days, and in those three days, he mastered what took me thirty years."
A student laughed. "What's his name, Master?"
The old man smiled with a strange reverence. "He never said. But I remember his footsteps. I remember… the silence before every move he made."
---
As the web of events tightened, enemies too began to stir. In a secret chamber beneath the capital, masked figures sat in council.
A voice echoed from the shadows. "He's moving."
Another hissed. "It's too early."
"No. It's too late. If he fully awakens, we lose everything."
"What do we do?"
The leader leaned forward, eyes glowing beneath the mask. "We hunt the disciples. One by one. Before he calls them all."
---
Back at the complex, Mara's phone buzzed. She glanced at it, her eyes widening.
"They found one of the companies. They attacked."
Laga rose instantly, energy shifting around him like a storm barely restrained.
"Who?"
"Zed's branch. In East Delta."
Laga's voice dropped into a deadly calm. "Zed was the first to ever call me 'Master.'"
Mara watched as he reached for the coat he rarely wore—the one stitched with symbols of defense, hidden blades, and memory. She had never seen him wear it unless things were about to break.
"Should I ready the jet?" she asked.
"No," Laga said, already walking toward the exit. "I'll run."
---
And then he vanished.
Just like that.
No flash, no sound. One moment he stood before her, the next, he was gone.
Only the map fluttered gently as the air pressure shifted, and the lights dimmed as if the entire building exhaled in fear.
Mara stood alone in the quiet and whispered to herself, "The storm is waking…"