The truck rumbled down the darkened road, its tires kicking up a steady rhythm on the cracked asphalt. The lights from the dashboard cast an eerie glow over Bob's face, making his scarlet eyes seem even more unnerving. He kept his hands firmly on the wheel, his focus sharp, but his mind raced just as much as Alex's.
The silence between them felt heavy—too heavy for comfort. Alex sat stiffly beside him, his hands still clenched tightly on his lap. The fear hadn't fully faded from his eyes, and Bob could feel the unease radiating off him. It was understandable. The kid had just been thrust into a world he didn't belong in. Bob knew what that felt like—though it had been years since he'd felt that kind of panic.
Bob glanced over at him, his voice breaking the stillness. "So… you're a gamer, right? You looked like one. Got the whole 'staring at screens for hours' vibe."
Alex blinked, startled by the sudden attempt at normalcy. He turned to Bob, a little confused but too tired to question it. "What? Uh, yeah. I guess. I play games sometimes."
Bob's lips twitched into a small smile, though it was gone as quickly as it appeared. "Good. You ever played Kingdoms of Rage? It's an old one, but the combat mechanics are pretty solid. If you like fantasy stuff, you'd probably dig it."
Alex hesitated, his mind flicking back to the moments of calm he used to enjoy, sitting in front of a screen, lost in another world. It felt like a lifetime ago. But he nodded anyway, trying to play along. "Yeah, I've heard of it. I never really got around to playing it, though."
"Shame. You should try it sometime. It's got a pretty intense storyline." Bob's gaze returned to the road, his expression hardening again. "The plot's got this cool twist at the end, though it's got nothing on the chaos going on in your life right now, huh?"
Alex chuckled weakly, the tension in his chest loosening just a fraction. He looked out the window, watching the passing trees blur in the night. "Yeah. I think my life's a bit crazier than any game right now."
Bob nodded, his tone surprisingly soft. "Fair point. But you gotta admit, real life's got more stakes than any video game. Not to mention, you can't respawn when you die." He threw a sidelong glance at Alex. "So, you know, try not to get yourself killed, okay?"
Alex managed a small laugh, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Yeah, no promises. But I'll try."
The truck hummed steadily on, and for a moment, the sound of the engine filled the quiet. Bob's attempt at small talk had done something—albeit small—to ease the tension. Still, it wasn't enough to make the situation any less terrifying. Bob could tell Alex was still processing everything. Hell, Bob was too.
He glanced at the rearview mirror, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You know, if we were in a movie right now, this would be the part where the bad guys show up with the ominous music playing in the background."
Alex raised an eyebrow, looking over at him. "Is this… are you trying to make a joke? Because it's not really working."
Bob snorted, the sound of it oddly normal considering the circumstances. "Yeah, probably not. I'm not great at jokes. But hey, I tried." His eyes returned to the road, scanning the horizon, always on edge. "Anyway, you should probably try to get some sleep. The next few hours are going to be rough. We'll need you at your best."
Alex, already exhausted, nodded. His eyes felt heavy, but he wasn't sure he could sleep. Not after everything that had happened. But the gentle hum of the engine, combined with Bob's steady presence, made him feel like it was possible. Maybe.
After a long silence, Bob spoke again, quieter this time, as if talking to himself more than Alex. "You know, you're lucky. Most people—most kids—would've completely lost it by now. They'd be hysterical, freaking out. But you're… you're holding it together."
Alex shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the praise but grateful for the acknowledgment. "I'm just trying to survive, I guess."
Bob's gaze flicked to him, his scarlet eyes softer for just a moment. "Surviving's good. It's enough. For now."
They drove on in silence after that, the truck eating up the miles with steady determination. Alex's head nodded against the seat, his eyelids heavy, but he fought to stay awake, not wanting to miss anything. Bob was in a similar state of alertness, his eyes scanning the road, his mind working in overdrive, but his focus never straying too far from the kid next to him.
Eventually, Alex's exhaustion overtook him, and he finally let his eyes close, the rhythmic hum of the engine and Bob's steady presence lulling him into an uneasy sleep. Bob looked over at him, a rare sense of protectiveness flickering in his chest as the kid's breathing slowed.
For a moment, Bob allowed himself a brief moment of peace. But in his gut, he knew the calm wouldn't last. Not until Alex was safe, not until they were safe.
But for now, they could pretend, just for a few moments, that things were normal.
"Sleep tight, kid," Bob muttered under his breath, though Alex didn't hear. Bob's voice was low, almost to himself. "We've still got a long way to go."
The truck's headlights cut through the darkness as they neared the end of a narrow alleyway, lined with dilapidated buildings that seemed to lean in closer with every passing second. The road was narrow, and the walls of the buildings were grimy and cracked, a far cry from the safety they were desperately seeking. Bob's grip on the wheel tightened as the truck approached the dead end, the streetlight above flickering sporadically.
Alex, still bleary-eyed from exhaustion, looked out of the window, trying to make sense of their surroundings. It didn't look like a safe house. It looked like they'd driven into a forgotten part of the city, abandoned and void of any sign of life. "Are we… are we sure this is the right place?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
Bob didn't answer immediately. He slowed the truck to a crawl as they reached the dead end, scanning the alley with a practiced eye. His scarlet gaze flicked from the rearview mirror to the darkness behind them. There was no sign of pursuit for now, but he wasn't taking any chances. His hand hovered over the door handle for a moment, his eyes focused on the back of the alley.
"Stay close," Bob murmured. He wasn't talking to Alex so much as to himself, trying to steady his nerves. They were so close, but Bob could feel the weight of every second stretching out. The air was thick, charged with the knowledge that their enemies were still out there, still hunting them.
Alex watched him carefully, confused but trusting, though part of him still felt like he didn't fully understand what was going on. Bob had been his protector for hours, but in this moment, Alex realized there was so much about him—and this life—he hadn't been prepared for.
The truck came to a stop at the end of the alley. Bob's eyes flicked once more to the rearview mirror before he leaned back, glancing over at Alex. "Keep your head down. It's about to get a little tricky."
Alex nodded, glancing around nervously as the shadows seemed to close in around them. The street was eerily quiet, save for the sound of the distant hum of city life beyond this forgotten part of town.
Bob sighed, leaning forward slightly as he turned off the engine. The silence that followed was almost suffocating. After a beat, Bob opened the door and stepped out, his shoes crunching against the gravel. He moved swiftly to the back of the truck, his eyes scanning the darkened alleyway once more. Then he nodded to himself, a barely perceptible movement, and motioned for Alex to stay put.
Bob approached the dead-end wall, his fingers brushing lightly against the grimy bricks. He knew what was hidden there. The safe house was built into the alley's very structure, a hidden entrance behind the wall that was easily overlooked if you didn't know where to look. The illusion of a dead end, the silence—it was all part of the design.
But just before Bob reached for the hidden door, he stopped. His sharp eyes flicked back down the alley, toward the road they'd just come from. His jaw tightened. The silence felt wrong, too quiet. He didn't want to risk going in until he knew they had a clear entry.
He stepped back from the wall, looking up at the faint glow of a security light over the alley. He sighed, then turned his gaze toward the rearview mirror, scanning the road one last time.
"Jack!" he called out in a low voice, knowing his ally was nearby. His voice echoed in the alley, but the night swallowed it whole. He knew Jack had been following them, cloaked in camouflage, keeping a safe distance. It was Jack's job to keep watch and ensure that Bob and Alex wouldn't be ambushed.
A moment later, a shape moved from the shadows, the figure of Jack materializing out of the dark with eerie precision. Jack was a ghost, blending into the night with his camouflage gear, his movements fluid and silent. He had been a step behind them for the entire ride, but now he was right where Bob needed him.
Jack approached, his face hidden beneath a black tactical mask. His eyes, though hard, held a hint of recognition as he nodded toward Bob. "All clear?"
Bob's gaze flicked over to the dead end again. "Not yet. Open the door, Jack. They could be close."
Without a word, Jack nodded and moved toward the alley's wall. He slid a hand over the bricks with practiced ease, finding a specific crevice and twisting it. A low rumble echoed as the wall shifted, a hidden door sliding open with the faintest of sounds.
Alex's eyes widened as he saw the entrance revealed—nothing more than a shadow against the wall, a thick, reinforced steel door that opened to reveal the safe house behind it. The doorway was small and inconspicuous, just like the rest of the alley, designed to blend in with its surroundings.
"Get inside, Alex," Bob ordered quietly, his voice firm.
Alex hesitated for just a moment, still taking in the surreal nature of it all. He glanced at Bob, who was already moving into the entrance. Then he followed suit, stepping inside with a sense of relief, but still weighed down by the questions that swirled in his mind.
Once inside, the door slid shut behind them with a soft click, leaving the world outside behind. The safe house was dimly lit, but its walls were lined with the quiet hum of security equipment—flickering monitors, radar systems, and an arsenal that was more than a little intimidating. There was no comfort here, only a sense of cold efficiency.
Bob shut the door behind them, taking a long breath. He glanced over at Alex, who was standing by the entrance, eyes wide as he tried to take it all in. Bob gave him a small nod, the weight of their situation settling on his shoulders once again.
"We're safe for now," Bob said, his voice steady but laced with an edge. "But we're not out of the woods yet. We've got to stay vigilant. Got it?"
Alex nodded, his mind still racing but at least grateful for the moment of respite. "Got it."
Jack led them deeper into the facility, the faint hum of machinery the only sound as they passed through several hallways lined with dimly lit overhead bulbs. The atmosphere inside was sterile, utilitarian—an odd contrast to the chaos they'd just left behind in the alley. The walls were a cool gray, punctuated by doors that looked no different from the walls themselves. The air felt thick with tension, a feeling that made Alex's skin prickle despite the safety of the place.
Bob's footsteps echoed loudly behind them as Jack moved with purpose, his silhouette sharp in the low light. Every so often, a guard would step into their path, saluting Jack or simply acknowledging him with a subtle nod, their faces hidden behind dark visors. The guards' movements were coordinated and precise, as if every action was rehearsed.
As they reached the end of the hall, a tall, broad figure stepped out of the shadows, blocking their way. Alex instinctively stiffened, but Bob didn't flinch.
The figure was a guard, dressed in the same tactical gear as the others, but this one stood at attention, his posture impeccable. His eyes, though hidden beneath his helmet, were trained on Jack as he approached. Without a word, the guard lowered his head in a deep bow.
"Sir," the guard said, his voice crisp and formal. "Welcome back."
Jack gave a small nod, a barely perceptible acknowledgment. "At ease. Is everything secure?"
"Yes, sir. All systems are green. No breaches." The guard straightened, his eyes momentarily flicking to Bob and Alex before returning to Jack. "The facility is ready."
Jack didn't waste any time. "Good. Open the door."
The hidden door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a vast, open room that stretched far beyond the walls, filled with a range of impressive and intimidating training equipment. The hum of machines and the faint clink of metallic weights created an almost sterile, clinical atmosphere, as if this place was designed solely for combat, survival, and refinement. There were walls lined with weaponry, targeting systems, and high-tech devices that Bob had never seen before—stuff that looked far more advanced than anything he'd encountered.
But despite the grandeur of the space, something gnawed at Bob's instincts, a sense of unease. It wasn't just the cold efficiency of the room or the heavy atmosphere that felt like it was suffocating him. It was the fact that they weren't alone.
At the far end of the room stood four individuals—two men and two women—who didn't seem like the type of people who would be here by accident.
One of the men stood rigid, his posture disciplined. He was dressed in a standard military uniform, dark and severe, the kind that screamed authority. His hair was cropped short, and his eyes were steely, as if he had been trained for something far beyond normal combat. The second man, standing next to him, had a completely different vibe. He wore a worn leather biker jacket, a slight smirk on his lips, and a rebellious air that didn't match the rigidity of the room. He was leaning casually against a weight rack, his arms crossed, but Bob could tell the guy was sizing them up—measuring the distance, gauging the danger.
The two women were even more of a mystery.
One of them was dressed provocatively—her outfit designed to draw attention, her confidence radiating in a way that seemed like she was more at home on the streets than in this militarized environment. But Bob wasn't fooled. There was a coldness in her gaze, something calculating beneath the surface that made him wary. The other girl, on the other hand, was dressed simply in casual clothes, her sneakers slightly worn and her hoodie hanging loosely on her frame. She appeared the most innocent of the group, but there was something about the way she held herself, her stance, the way she watched everything with sharp eyes, that made Bob suspicious.
As soon as the door slid open, Jack stepped inside, his tone businesslike, but there was an underlying tension in his posture. Bob followed him, but his gaze never wavered from the group in the center of the room. His eyes narrowed, lips twitching with annoyance.
"Jack, who are they? And why are they here?" Bob's voice had a sharp edge to it, though it was clear he already had an idea of what was happening. Alex seemed to catch on as well, his lips curling into a quiet chuckle beside him, though there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.
Jack, ever calm, shot a glance at the group before looking back at Bob. His face hardened, and for a moment, he didn't say anything. It was almost as if he was weighing his words, deciding just how much to reveal.
"First of all, call me Mr. Smith. Second of all, they are your students," Jack said, his voice low and grim, the words hanging heavily in the air.
Bob stopped in his tracks, his gaze snapping to Jack, the surprise on his face quickly morphing into frustration. His fists clenched, the muscles in his jaw tightening with barely contained rage.
"Hell no," Bob snarled, his voice rising just slightly. "I'm not teaching anyone, except for this little guy. I didn't sign up for this shit."
He stepped forward, his eyes flicking to the group, who all stood with varying levels of expectation. The guy in the military uniform seemed unbothered, but the guy in the biker jacket raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his gaze. The two girls exchanged glances, one looking amused, the other more confused, though neither one moved an inch.
Alex, who had been silent until now, stepped closer to Bob, his hand resting lightly on his arm. "Bob," he said softly, trying to defuse the tension, though his voice had a tremor of disbelief in it. "Maybe this is what we need. It would be easier for me if i had friends to train with."
Bob shot a hard look at Alex, not out of anger but more out of a sense of helplessness. He was tired—tired of running, tired of fighting, tired of being forced into situations where he had no choice. And this? This was the last thing he wanted to deal with.
Jack, for his part, didn't seem to be surprised by Bob's reaction. He crossed his arms, his face unreadable. "It's not an option, Bob. We need you to teach them. You know what's coming. They don't. And it's not like you'll be teaching toddlers. all of them already are masters on their abilities. And all of them have an GE [1]score of above 900."
"Exactly!" Bob retorted, voice rising again. "I didn't go through hell and back to train a bunch of trainees who have no idea what they're getting into! This isn't a game, Jack!"
The biker guy pushed off the rack, his grin wide and unapologetic. "Hey, relax. We're not exactly 'trainees.'" He gave Bob a wink. "But if you're not in the mood for training, we can always just spar. I'm sure we'll have a great time with that."
The girl dressed in casual clothes sighed, a bored expression on her face. "Seriously, though, is this what we're doing now? We're not even allowed to train on our own anymore?"
The other girl—the one dressed seductively—tilted her head, her lips curling into a sly smile. "I think we're all here for a reason, sweetie. Maybe you'll be surprised by us. We have our own talents."
Bob glared at them, his patience already fraying. "I'm not here to babysit these guys, my only responsibility is Alex."
"Well, lucky for you," Jack said dryly, "I'm not asking you to babysit. I'm asking you to teach them to survive." He met Bob's gaze, his expression hardening. "We need every hand we can get, Bob. And that includes them. Now, are you going to do me this favor or not?"
Bob's muscles were tense, his mind racing, and frustration gnawed at his every step. He didn't want to be here, didn't want to be stuck in this bizarre situation with a group of strangers who had no business being in his world. He was trying to control his anger, but it was hard—every nerve in his body was on edge. He knew Jack was right, but that didn't mean he had to like it.
Turning his back on the group, Bob muttered under his breath, barely keeping the sarcasm at bay. "I'm not your teacher, but I'll show you the ropes." His voice was cold, biting, like the words were forced out of him. He glanced over his shoulder at Jack, eyes narrow with irritation. "Training will start at 6 A.M. I suggest you all go to sleep early tonight."
The biker guy, who had been leaning nonchalantly against a wall, snorted with laughter. "Ay, no way I'm waking up at 6 A.M." His grin was wide and unapologetic, clearly amused by Bob's attempt to establish authority. The military guy's face remained impassive, like he was used to these kinds of challenges. The two girls exchanged glances, neither of them fazed by Bob's demeanor, though the one dressed provocatively raised an eyebrow as if waiting for Bob to crack under the pressure.
Bob ignored the biker's comment, tightening his jaw as he focused on his next move. He needed to keep it together. They were going to be here for a while, and as much as he hated it, he had a responsibility to them now, whether he liked it or not. Without another word, he turned on his heel, motioning for Alex to follow him, his body language rigid as he walked away from the group.
But as he made his way toward the door, he suddenly stopped in his tracks, an almost imperceptible sigh escaping his lips. He hadn't thought about this—he'd been so focused on everything else, he hadn't considered where they were going to sleep. He shot Jack a pointed look, his voice dripping with barely restrained annoyance.
"Jack... where exactly are our rooms?" he asked, his tone sharp, almost a growl. It wasn't a request—it was an inevitable question that needed an answer.
The words hung in the air for a moment before Bob heard a small chuckle from Alex, who was standing just behind him. Alex's laugh was low, quiet, but genuine. Even Jack, who had been so stoic moments before, let out a small laugh, his lips curling into a faint smile at Bob's frustration.
Bob didn't turn around, but his frustration softened for a brief moment, and he let out a breath, rubbing his temples. "I swear to God, if I have to sleep in a closet…" His voice trailed off as he shook his head.
Jack, still amused, clapped Bob on the back, his smile more genuine now. "Don't worry. You'll have a proper room. The same goes for Alex. I'll have someone show you both to your quarters."
At this, Alex's laughter grew, his eyes sparkling with the kind of amusement that only came from seeing Bob flustered. It was a fleeting moment of levity, one that made Bob's frustration melt away for a second, but it didn't last long. He was still stuck in this mess—still stuck teaching people who clearly didn't need it.
Turning back toward the group, Bob shot them all a glare. "And don't think for one second that I'm not watching you. I'll make sure you're all up at 6 A.M. sharp, even if I have to drag you out of bed myself."
The biker guy shrugged, clearly not taking Bob's threat seriously, but the military guy gave a subtle nod, his lips pressed in a thin line. The two girls didn't respond—one was already tapping her foot impatiently, while the other stared intently at Bob, like she was analyzing him. Bob met her gaze, trying to read her, but she wasn't giving anything away. For now, though, they were all silent, taking Bob's challenge in stride.
Bob sighed once more, the weight of everything crashing down on him again. "Alright, whatever," he muttered under his breath, turning back toward Jack. "Lead the way."
Jack nodded, walking past Bob and Alex. "Follow me."
[1] Genetic Energy / How powerful is the individual