The Syndicate Tower burned through the night.
Columns of black smoke curled into the gray sky as emergency sirens wailed across Raven City. Drones hovered like vultures, recording the wreckage, broadcasting chaos to every screen in the world.
And at the center of the storm—Ethan Vale vanished into the darkness.
For three days, no one saw him. The world speculated. News anchors whispered theories. Governments issued denials. Some said the explosion was a terrorist act. Others claimed it was divine retribution. But behind the confusion, something colder was taking shape.
On the fourth day, the world met Lyra Kade.
---
She appeared on every global feed at once—calm, sharp, immaculate.
The Syndicate's emblem glowed behind her as she stood in a sleek broadcast chamber, eyes faintly luminous with Genesis light.
> "My name is Dr. Lyra Kade," she began. "For years, the Syndicate has operated in secrecy—protecting humanity from the dangers of uncontrolled bio-synthetic evolution. But one experiment escaped."
Footage flashed behind her: the Tower's destruction, drones crashing, power grids flickering. Then—a blurred image of Ethan, caught mid-leap from the ruins, his eyes glowing blue.
> "Subject E-V, code-named Ethan Vale, was part of a classified Genesis synchronization trial. He has now become a living conduit of unregulated neural code. In simpler terms…" she paused, eyes narrowing, "he is a walking virus."
The world held its breath.
> "To prevent further contamination, I am initiating Operation Divide. Every nation, every agency, every satellite will now join under one unified command to hunt, contain, or terminate Subject E-V."
She looked straight into the camera.
> "This is not vengeance. It's survival."
And just like that, Ethan Vale became the world's most wanted man.
---
Somewhere deep beneath the ruins of Old Sector 12, Ethan watched the broadcast flicker across a cracked screen.
Rain leaked through the ceiling of the underground metro station he'd turned into a makeshift hideout. His jacket was torn, blood still crusted on his knuckles. The light from the screen reflected in his tired eyes.
> "She's rewriting history," Genesis murmured from within.
"Yeah," Ethan said quietly. "And she's damn good at it."
> "Public sentiment now favors her. She controls every major media channel. You are the anomaly—the infection."
He shut the screen off and leaned back against the wall. "Story of my life."
His hands trembled slightly. The merge had changed him—he could feel it. The city's signals brushed against his mind like whispers. Cameras blinked when he passed. Power lines hummed in rhythm with his heartbeat.
> "You are adapting," Genesis said.
"Or losing myself."
> "There is no loss, only transformation."
He smirked weakly. "You really love saying that."
Silence stretched between them. Then Genesis said, almost hesitantly,
> "You're afraid of what you're becoming."
Ethan looked down. "Afraid I'll stop caring."
The sound of boots echoed faintly from the tunnel. Ethan immediately killed the power source, plunging the station into darkness. He pressed his back to the wall, listening.
Three figures moved cautiously through the shadows, flashlights cutting thin lines through the damp air. They wore Syndicate insignia—but smaller, cheaper armor, like scavengers or bounty hunters.
"Spread out," one of them said. "HQ says the target passed this way."
Ethan watched, silent.
> "They are unlinked mercenaries," Genesis whispered. "Low-tier. We can disable them without lethal force."
Ethan nodded. "Let's do that."
He moved like a shadow. The first guard barely had time to turn before Ethan disarmed him with a strike to the wrist and swept his legs. The second raised his rifle—then froze, eyes widening as his own weapon jammed mid-trigger, metal locking under Genesis interference.
Ethan punched him out cold. The third ran, shouting into a commlink—only for the tunnel lights to explode, plunging him into complete blackness.
"Tell Kade," Ethan said, voice echoing through the dark, "if she wants me, she can come herself."
By the time backup arrived, the mercenaries were gone—and their comm systems were fried beyond repair.
---
Hours later, Ethan sat at a derelict control booth overlooking the river, wind tugging at his jacket. The city glittered faintly beyond the smoke.
> "She'll escalate," Genesis said. "She'll target others connected to your past—friends, allies, any data she can exploit."
Ethan's expression hardened. "Then I need to find them first."
> "I can locate potential survivors from the old Genesis labs. But accessing that data will require breaching Syndicate's satellite grid."
He smirked. "Sounds familiar."
> "High risk. Probability of exposure: 87%."
"I've had worse odds."
He placed his hand on a broken terminal nearby. Sparks jumped between his fingers as he closed his eyes. His consciousness stretched outward through the decaying network—searching, feeling the pulse of the digital grid like veins of light beneath the city.
Then—contact.
A faint signal, fragmented but human. A name flickered through his mind: Rhea Solen.
> "She was one of your father's engineers," Genesis said. "She went off-grid after the first Genesis collapse."
Ethan opened his eyes. "Then she's my next lead."
But before he could move, the sky outside flashed white. A sonic boom followed—sharp, immediate. He looked up to see a sleek aircraft hovering over the river, its undercarriage opening like a metal flower.
From it descended a woman in silver armor, landing gracefully on the bridge. Her face was covered by a half-mask, but her voice carried easily through the rain.
"Ethan Vale," she said. "In the name of the Global Security Accord, you're under arrest."
Ethan recognized the insignia on her chest. "Division Prime," he muttered. "Lyra's personal hunters."
> "Enhanced soldiers," Genesis confirmed. "Integrated neural combat systems. Hybrid, like you."
"Yeah," Ethan said, stepping forward, "but without a conscience."
The woman drew two plasma blades that hissed like lightning. "Don't make me kill you, Vale."
He smiled faintly. "You're assuming you can."
She lunged.
The bridge erupted into sparks as steel met blue energy. Ethan dodged, blocked, countered—his movements faster than before, more fluid, like Genesis was guiding his muscles mid-strike. The air shimmered with each impact.
But the woman was skilled. Too skilled. She fought like someone who knew his rhythm, his tempo—anticipating him.
> "She's mirroring your neural output," Genesis warned. "Lyra must have cloned part of your pattern."
Ethan gritted his teeth. "Then I'll show her something new."
He feinted left, then redirected Genesis energy into his palm—releasing a shockwave that sent her flying backward into a crashed vehicle. Her armor flickered, systems shorting.
"Stand down," he said.
She laughed, blood dripping from her mask. "You really think this ends with you walking away?"
The sky above rippled. From the clouds descended dozens of drones—sleek, black, and humming with red light. Each one bore the Syndicate crest.
> "They found us," Genesis said.
"Yeah," Ethan muttered. "Time to move."
He sprinted toward the bridge's edge as the drones opened fire. Bullets ripped through concrete. He leapt, plunging into the icy river below.
For a moment, all sound disappeared—just the muffled rush of water and the fading echo of Genesis whispering directions through his mind.
He surfaced near the far bank, gasping, soaked, exhausted. Behind him, the drones scanned the river but didn't pursue. They couldn't track his signal anymore.
> "That woman—Division Prime—she'll report your survival," Genesis said.
"Good," Ethan replied, dragging himself onto the shore. "Let them know I'm coming."
He looked up at the distant skyline, where the Syndicate's new headquarters pulsed like a digital heart.
> "Operation Divide has begun," Genesis said. "The world is splitting—between those who obey the code, and those who defy it."
Ethan clenched his fists. "Then we make our own side."
Lightning cracked over the horizon. The reflection in the river glowed blue—the color of Genesis—and Ethan's.