The battlefield was a symphony of violence—the crackle of lightning, the roar of a giant, the sizzle of acid, the hum of a disintegrating blade. Yet, in its center, a single sentence, spoken by General Kael to Wolfen, cut through the din with the sharpness of an Umbralite sliver.
"...although it is useless, but I cannot believe that a Prime would break its code and betray the Architects," Kael's voice was a blade of cold disapproval. "And you, of all entities, would let it live, Wolfen Welfric."
The name hung in the air. But it wasn't the name that caused the ripple.
Wolfen, who had been poised with lazy menace, froze. His golden eyes, fixed on Kael, flickered. The casual, eternal boredom shattered into pure, unadulterated surprise. His head turned slowly, as if moving through gel, until he was staring not at Kael, but at Eva.
He pointed a finger at her, his expression one of genuine, bewildered astonishment. "Wait… what? A Prime?" he said, the word sounding foreign and ridiculous in his mouth. He looked from Eva's fierce, blood-streaked face back to Kael. "You're saying… she's a Prime?"
Then, he started to laugh.
It wasn't his usual dry chuckle. It was a short, sharp burst of incredulous humor that he tried, and failed, to stifle. He waved a hand at Eva dismissively. "Trust me. She's too stupid to be one."
The effect was instantaneous.
"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!" Eva's shout wasn't a roar of rage; it was a whip-crack of pure, indignant fury that silenced even Korgath's grunts for a moment. All the calm, steady Prime composure evaporated, replaced by the outrage of a woman who'd just been called an idiot by a living fossil while fighting for her life.
Kael's icy composure fractured into confusion. "What? She is not a Prime?"
"Nope," Wolfen said, popping the 'p', his grin wide and utterly inappropriate for the scene. He turned to Eva, raising his voice over the dwindling sounds of combat as the fighters, bewildered by the sudden conversational turn, began to disengage. "Oy, Eva! Are you a Prime?"
Eva, her silver-metal gauntlets still formed, stared at him as if he'd grown a second head. "I'm a WHAT?" she yelled back, utterly baffled.
Wolfen threw his hands up, turning back to Kael as if presenting conclusive evidence. "See? She's an idiot! She doesn't even know what a Prime is!"
The absurdity was so profound it created a pocket of stunned silence. Leo, panting and sparking, looked from Wolfen to Eva to Kael, his face a mask of 'what the actual hell is happening?'. Jordan slowly lowered his katana, his logic engine glitching on the social incongruity. Derek just blinked.
Kael's strategic mind, built for order and clear directives, visibly short-circuited. He held up a hand. The command was silent, but his team reacted. Korgath ceased his advance, glowering. Jax let the electricity around his fists die down to a faint crackle. Stitch and the Acidic Hybrid stepped back, wary.
"Explain," Kael demanded, his voice tight.
Wolfen's laughter faded, but a mad grin remained. "You first. You came here to kill a 'Prime who betrayed its code' and 'the man who was with it.'" He gestured between himself and Eva. "That's your two targets, yes? The traitor Prime and her… accomplice?"
Kael gave a sharp, single nod. "Our handler's directive was clear. A single Prime, Designation Eva-01, registered as having deviated from her core programming of non-interference and constancy. She was observed aligning with a high-value anomaly, you, forming a rogue cell. The directive was termination of both to prevent ideological contamination."
The puzzle pieces, warped and from different boxes, slammed together with a sickening click.
Wolfen's grin vanished, replaced by a look of dawning, irritable comprehension. "You absolute morons," he breathed, not to Kael, but to the unseen 'handler.' "You were given bad intel. Or you misunderstood it. She's not a Prime. She's just… annoyingly durable. And I'm not 'with her.' I'm… temporarily inconvenienced by all of them." He waved a hand at the entire bunker crew.
The fight was over, replaced by a tense, bewildered standoff. Weapons were still held, but the killing intent had been diluted by sheer, staggering bureaucratic error.
"So," Wolfen summarized, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "you crashed our little housewarming party, wrecked our new digs, tried to kill us all… because someone in your shiny, evil bureaucracy filed the wrong paperwork."
Kael's jaw tightened. The humiliation was a colder burn than any wound. His elite strike team, deployed on a high-priority culling mission… because of a clerical error. He looked at Eva, really looked at her. The power was there, unique, potent. But was it the absolute, unchanging template of a Prime? Or just another unique hybrid strain? The doubt was now a poison in his certainty.
"Our mission parameters were based on the intelligence provided," Kael stated, his voice stripped of all affect. "A Prime is a constant. It does not feel outrage. It does not call others 'idiots.' The profile… may have been incorrect."
He made a subtle gesture. His team began to withdraw, coalescing around him. The message was clear. The mission was invalid. They were leaving.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Wolfen said, taking a step forward. His playful demeanor was gone, replaced by something dark and dangerously still. "Your 'work' isn't done."
Kael paused. "The mission is void. There is no Prime here."
"I don't care about your mission," Wolfen said, his voice low. He pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the bunker entrance, where the massive door was still embedded in the wall. "You see that? That was my door. You broke it. You smashed my… whatever that hoop thing was. You tracked mud all over my new apocalyptic hideout." His golden eyes glowed. "You need to pay."
Kael stared at him. "For… property damage?"
"Call it a cleaning fee. An inconvenience tax. The toll for wasting my time."
For a moment, it seemed Kael might reignite the conflict out of sheer principle. Then, the tactical part of his brain, the part that had just watched Wolfen face-tank Korgath without breaking a sweat, asserted itself. Fighting for a mission was one thing. Fighting because you broke a deranged god's door was… illogical.
"Not my problem," Kael said flatly. He turned. "Strike Team Epsilon, withdraw."
The squad, confused but obedient, fell into formation. With a last, lingering look of mingled frustration and reassessment at Eva and Wolfen, General Valerius Kael led his team away. They vanished into the landscape with unsettling speed, leaving only scars and silence.
The group stood in the wreckage, the adrenaline leaching away to be replaced by exhaustion and profound confusion.
Leo was the first to break the silence. "So… guess we're going somewhere else now?"
But Kael's final words, called back over his shoulder just before he disappeared, hung in the air, colder than the retreating shadows:
"Do not mistake this for safety. You are all still registered anomalies. And you, Wolfen Welfric… you should know your infamy has spread. Our handler was not the only one looking. There is a bounty. A significant one. Circulating to every free-floating weapon, mercenary hybrid, and desperate soul in the wastes. For the one who kills the Anomaly. Payment: a lifetime's guarantee of safety from the Architects' harvest. You are not just a target. You are everyone's ticket out of hell."
Then, they were gone.
The weight of the new threats settled upon them. Eva stared at the ground, her mind reeling. Why? Why would someone want me dead, specifically? And why frame it as killing a 'Prime'?
And Wolfen… Wolfen Welfric just stood there, looking at the ruined bunker door. A slow, grim smile touched his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. A bounty. Of course there was a bounty. He was a story, a myth, and now he was a prize. He had made himself interesting, and in this world, interesting things got hunted.
Their brief respite was over. They had no home. They had new, unknown enemies in the shadows. And one of them had a price on his head that would make him the most popular man in the apocalypse.