The red laser dot sat perfectly still between Noah's eyebrows.
Rain drummed against the metal roof of Warehouse 12, echoing like distant war drums. Noah didn't breathe. He didn't blink. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic rhythm that betrayed his calm exterior.
"Hands where I can see them," the silver-haired woman commanded. Her voice was amplified by a suit speaker—cold, professional, and utterly devoid of mercy. "Touch that crate again, and I paint the wall with your brain matter."
Noah slowly raised his hands. His mind was racing, calculating variables at inhuman speeds.
[Threat Analysis] [Enemy: Black Ops Sniper (Class A)] [Weapon: Mag-Rail Sniper Rifle] [Projectile Speed: Mach 3] [Distance: 45 Meters]
Mach 3.
If she pulled the trigger, the bullet would kill him before the sound even reached his ears. He couldn't dodge. He couldn't run. The System's "Concept Theft" required focus and line of sight. At this distance, stealing the gun's logic was impossible.
"Who do you work for?" she asked, her finger tightening on the trigger. "The Revolutionaries? The Syndicate?"
Noah's eyes darted to the golden arm in the open crate beside him. The severed limb of Atlas. It pulsed with a sickeningly sweet energy, humming with a power that felt wrong.
"I work for the truth," Noah said, his voice raspy.
"Wrong answer."
CRACK.
The sound of the shot was deafening. The muzzle flash from the catwalk was like a miniature sun.
In that microsecond, time seemed to stretch for Noah. He saw the distortion in the air as the hyper-velocity slug tore towards his skull.
He couldn't stop the gun. But the bullet... the bullet was now in his domain.
[System Overdrive] [Target: Incoming Projectile] [Concept: Kinetic Energy (Momentum)] [Magnitude: Critical]
Noah didn't try to deflect it. He didn't try to melt it. He reached out with his mind and grabbed the sheer force propelling the metal slug.
"STOP."
His vision went white. A sledgehammer of pain slammed into his frontal lobe. It felt like his brain was being squeezed in a hydraulic press.
[Warning: Mental Load 92%] [Warning: Neural Damage Imminent]
Blood sprayed from Noah's nose, splattering onto his white shirt. The capillaries in his eyes burst, turning the whites crimson.
But the bullet stopped.
It hovered just two inches from his forehead, spinning angrily in mid-air, stripped of its forward momentum but still retaining its rotational energy. It was a suspended piece of death.
The silver-haired sniper gasped. For the first time, her composure broke. She lowered her rifle slightly, staring in disbelief. "Impossible..."
Noah didn't waste the moment. He couldn't hold it. The "weight" of the bullet's energy was crushing his mind.
"Return to sender," Noah gritted out through clenched teeth.
He released the stolen concept. But he reversed the vector.
BANG.
The bullet shot backward, retracing its path at half the original speed. It wasn't enough to kill the sniper—her reflexes were elite—but it smashed into her rifle scope, shattering the glass and exploding the weapon in her hands.
"Argh!" She cried out, falling back onto the catwalk, clutching her face.
Noah fell to his knees. The world was spinning. Grey spots danced in his vision. He was at his limit. If he used one more major skill, he would turn into a vegetable.
I need to leave. Now.
He looked at the golden arm. He couldn't carry the crate; it was too heavy, and the police sirens were already wailing in the distance. But he couldn't leave empty-handed.
He reached out and grabbed the severed hand of Atlas.
The moment his skin touched the golden flesh, a shockwave of golden light blasted through the warehouse. It wasn't hot; it was... holy. Nauseatingly holy.
[System Alert] [Contact with Divine Biological Material] [Scanning...] [Logic Detected: "False Divinity"] [Logic Detected: "Regeneration"]
"False?" Noah whispered, his vision blurring.
He didn't have time to analyze. He activated his [Minor Theft] skill, not to steal the concept, but to siphon a sample of the energy stored within the cells.
A stream of golden particles flowed from the arm into Noah's hand. The arm dimmed slightly, losing its luster.
[Data Acquired.] [Sample Stored in Mind Palace.]
"Freeze!"
The warehouse doors burst open. Dozens of Association soldiers poured in, weapons raised.
Noah looked at them, then at the dark, oily water of the harbor visible through the open loading bay doors.
He smiled, his teeth stained with his own blood.
"Catch me if you can," he whispered.
He threw himself backward, off the loading dock, and plunged into the freezing ocean below.
Bullets churned the water where he had been seconds ago, but Noah was already gone, sinking into the dark, murky depths.
Two Hours Later - The Undercity Sewers
Noah dragged himself out of the drainage pipe, coughing up dirty water. He collapsed onto the damp concrete, shivering violently.
His coat was soaked, heavy as lead. His head throbbed with a migraine that made him want to claw his eyes out.
[Status Recovery Initiated] [Mental Load: 88% -> Reducing...]
He leaned his back against the graffiti-covered wall, breathing hard. He was alive. He had survived an A-Class Black Ops agent.
But his victory felt hollow.
He opened his hand. A faint, golden residue shimmered on his palm before fading. The energy he had stolen from Atlas's arm.
Why did the System call it "False Divinity"?
And why was the arm regrowing?
Noah froze. He remembered the last glimpse of the arm in the crate as he jumped. The spot where he had siphoned the energy... the flesh was knitting itself back together.
"He's not just a hero," Noah realized, staring into the darkness of the sewer. "He's a renewable resource. They are farming him."
A chilling realization settled over him. If Atlas was being harvested for his parts... then who was the real master of this city?
Suddenly, a notification popped up, glowing ominous red in the darkness.
[System Update] [New Enemy Designation Added: The Hero Association] [Bounty Placed on your Head: 5,000,000 Credits] [Title Unlocked: "Public Enemy No. 1"]
Noah let out a dry, pained laugh.
"Five million? I'm worth more than that."
He closed his eyes, letting the darkness embrace him. He needed sleep. Because tomorrow, he wasn't just hunting concepts.
He was going to hunt the truth about the "God" named Atlas.