The ruins of the old Executioner memorial were quiet.
Too quiet.
Riven stepped over cracked stone, Cipher and Kira flanking him. Tony, Vincent, and Mark waited behind, eyes scanning the desolate terrain.
Cigar stood alone in the center. No guards. No weapons raised. Just the ember of his cigar burning in the dusk light.
"You found me," he said without turning. "Didn't think you'd get this far."
Riven didn't waste time. "Talk. Now. No riddles. No evasions."
Cigar nodded slowly, then turned to face them, the wind tugging at his coat.
"You want the truth?" he said. "Fine. But once you hear it… you'll wish you hadn't."
He looked directly at Kira.
"It didn't start with you. It didn't start with Riven. It didn't even start with the Council."
He took a breath, then began:
> "Twenty years ago, the military launched a classified program called GEN-X. It was a mutation experiment. They used an unstable formula — even I don't know what it truly was — to mutate animals of different species.
The results were monstrous. The test subjects became aggressive, unpredictable, and impossible to control.
So the military created a system to suppress them — the prototype of what you now know as the Execution Code. At the time, it was called Omega-Z.
But instead of control, it gave the beasts even more power. They became unstoppable. Not even the army could contain them.
In desperation, the military decided to try Omega-Z on humans.
Fifty test subjects.
Only three survived.
Omega-0, Omega-1, and Omega-2.
With their help, the beasts were forced into dimensional rifts. Omega-0 — the Rift Maker — tore reality open and sealed them away.
The war was brutal. And once the final beast was exiled, the Council betrayed the three survivors. They attempted to kill them, destroy all traces of Omega-Z, and rebrand the system entirely.
They called the new version the Execution Code. This time, they implanted it in children — believing it would bond better with undeveloped minds, especially if it remained dormant until awakened by trauma.
And it worked."
The group was silent.
Cigar's voice dropped.
> "But five years ago… something changed.
Omega-Z activated on its own. A spontaneous awakening. A new anomaly.
That was the warning sign.
If it happened once… it could happen again. And if the Code continued to evolve, the Endgate — the barrier between dimensions — might collapse.
So the Council began manufacturing more Executioners, preparing for that inevitable day."
He paused, letting the truth settle in.
"The Execution Code wasn't a weapon," Cigar said. "It was a leash. A control system."
He stepped closer, face grim.
"Steven Rael. Joe Kessen. Sasha Miri.
Omega-0. Omega-1. Omega-2.
They were the first. The only ones who survived the original system."
He gestured outward, as if seeing their faces again.
"Steven… could tear through reality. He made the rifts. But he wasn't controllable.
Joe became more weapon than man — forged blades from pure Code, commanded an arsenal with his mind.
Sasha was the failsafe. Her Code threads could bind targets across dimensions. She was terrifying.
And me?"
Cigar chuckled bitterly. "I was their handler. Their friend. I helped them become gods… and watched them fall."
The group remained still. Kira stared, pale. Cipher's jaw clenched. Riven's fists trembled.
"You experimented on them," Riven muttered. "Then you experimented on us."
"No," Cigar said quietly. "The Council did. I stayed quiet because I thought I could protect someone. I thought I could shape Death Protocol into something better… something that wouldn't repeat the same mistakes."
He looked directly at Riven.
> "But then you awakened the Code fully.
The only one who could level up.
The only one who kept evolving.
And now? It's reactivating the Omega Chain. Every time you fight — every time you level up — you're feeding it.
You're opening the Endgate."
Kira trembled.
"What am I?" she whispered.
Cigar's voice softened.
> "You were our greatest surprise.
A second-generation hybrid. Part Sasha, part something new.
An Executioner who can resurrect.
You can fight… and keep fighting, no matter what."
The weight of it crushed them all.
Cipher spoke, his voice tight. "And the Shadow Council?"
Cigar's face darkened.
"They know Steven is still alive. And they're terrified. Because if he returns… nothing will stop him."
Riven stepped forward. "Then help us stop them."
That's when Cigar's expression changed — from weary to cold.
"I already did," he said.
From the surrounding shadows, soldiers emerged — dozens of them. Death Protocol's elite. Armored. Silent. Surrounding the group.
Riven's eyes widened. "You—"
"I told you the truth," Cigar said, stepping back. "But truth doesn't mean loyalty."
He turned his back on them.
"I'm done choosing sides. Let the system decide who deserves to survive."
And then he walked away.
As the soldiers opened fire.