Timeline: Present (1,000 Years Later)
Location: Beast Clan, Research Facility, Bottom Floor, Room #11
Inside the empty room. The sounds of fear echo against the pitch-black walls,
carving tension into the silence.
"We are under attack! Requesting backup immediately!" - Facility Guard #1 frantically writes into a scroll
Facility Guard #2 peers through a slightly cracked door, eyes scanning the hallway
"They're still out there."
He pulls back and turns toward Guard #1.
"!?"
Facility Guard #2 (shocked)
On the ground, Facility Guard #1 lies beheaded
Blood seeps into the floor, still warm.
Beside his fading corpse, two figures stand in silence—
their gazes locked on Guard #2.
One breath.
Then The Woman moves.
A blur. A shadow.
Guard #2 reaches for his sword—
SPLURT
The sound of limbs being torn echoes through the room
Amidst the guard's scream of agony, an arm hits the floor with a dull thud.
With nothing more than a palm strike,
The Woman had severed his right arm—
clean, precise, merciless.
The Man now stands beside the woman, looking down at the guard.
"If you want the pain to stop—answer our question."
Guard #2 says nothing.
His lips tremble, but no words come out.
Only the sound of his ragged breathing fills the silence.
The man's expression doesn't change.
Not anger. Not impatience.
"His left leg."
SLICE!
SLICE!
With a single, effortless command, a lifetime of strength is stolen in an instant.
Guard #2, now legless, screams in horror
"I—I'll speak! I'll speak!!"
"The baby. Where is she?" - Says The Man
Guard #2 (to himself): (So they're after the lab rat...)
Guard #2: "I—I don't know what you're talking about…"
His voice trembles in pain.
Man: "His right leg."
SLICE!
Guard #2: "ARGHHHHHH!"
---
A few moments later...
The doors to Room #11 open. Five people enter. They examine the carnage before them.
The Leader of the group speaks to The Man: "We received your messenger scroll."
The Leader eyes Guard #2, barely breathing in the corner.
"I assume you're Gustov?"
He walks up to the mutilated man, boots echoing against the blood-stained floor.
The Leader clears his throat, voice steady, authoritative:
"Gustov Larenitch.
Beast Clan.
Head of Security, Facility #11.
An unsanctioned research site conducting illegal experiments on foreign materials."
He straightens, eyes sharp.
"I, General Kennedy—K47 Squad Leader—hereby declare:
You and your staff are under arrest."
Then, without missing a beat, he turns to a squad member:
"Stop the bleeding. Then contain him."
K47 Member:
"Yes, General."
General Kennedy turns to the "man and woman".
"Did he give the location?"
"Basement." - The Man replies
General Kennedy:
"MAP!"
A K47 member rushes forward, unfurling a scroll with practiced speed.
General Kennedy leans in, eyes narrowing as they sweep across the map—
each hallway, each sealed chamber, each marked sector.
His finger traces a route—precise, deliberate.
A brief pause.
General Kennedy narrowed his eyes: "John, stay here...
Once you're done stabilizing him, make sure the arrest is secure—
Then join us in the basement.
The rest of you—follow me."
"Yes, General."
- The K47 Members Yell
---
On the way to the basement...
Screams echo through the halls.
Blood paints the black walls red..
---
After relentless bloodshed, they finally arrive at the basement.
The K47 members move with caution, eyes sharp—
navigating the dark, narrow halls of the lower floor.
In the distance ahead, a majestic door looms—
its surface lined with glowing runes, pulsing faintly in the dim light.
General Kennedy (sharp):
"Halt."
The squad freezes.
Kennedy steps forward, scanning the intricate symbols.
"A formation.
Low-level.
Concealment type."
His gaze lingers—
Calculating, wary. No threat in sight… but instincts sharpened by war keep him on edge.
After a brief moment ..
General Kennedy:
"Your turn, Wayne."
Wayne steps forward, crouching. He presses a palm to the floor.
"Earth Essence: Earth's Sensory."
A few seconds pass…
"One presence. Alone." - Wayne says to the K47 Members
General Kennedy: "Sabrina."
The team parts.
Sabrina steps forward, raising her hand.
A glowing mark ignites on her palm—burning bright with Essence.
Before she can begin her chant, General Kennedy glances at the young woman beside him.
"Solange, stay close. Stay vigilant."
Solange nods, her expression tightening with focus.
Sabrina:
"Fire Essence: Volcanic Eruption!"
BOOM!
The door explodes in a blast of molten flame—
Without a moment's hesitation—
The team charges in—
boots hammering against the metal floor,
eyes locked forward.
They descend into the unknown.
General Kennedy (commanding):
"Fan out!"
Without hesitation, they split—
each operative darting in a different direction,
clearing rooms, scanning corners, sweeping the hallways with trained precision.
Solange: "Clear!"
Sabrina: "Clear!"
Wayne: "Clear!"
With the coast clear, they follow protocol—
lowering their arms, each marked with Essence Palm Dots,
the very source that allows them to manifest Essence into existence.
Eyes still sharp, they scan the area and regroup at the center of the room.
Before them sits a small containment pod—
untouched amidst the wreckage, humming faintly with residual energy.
To their surprise...
"A... baby?" - Solange Says
The "man and woman" who had tortured the guard remained outside,
Now, with the dust finally settled,
they peer into the basement.
The woman flinches.
The man notices.
He walks in. She follows.
As they approach the pod, General Kennedy steps in their path.
"Unauthorized."
General Kennedy pulls out a scroll, scribbles, then tosses it into the air. The scroll vanishes.
"And if I choose to proceed?" - The Man says
General Kennedy hesitates.
But then—he remembers who he is. Straightens his stance.
"I may not be your opponent—
But I am the shield of this kingdom.
And I will stand, regardless of the cost."
The Man's dead eyes stare coldly at the honorable general.
Unblinking. Emotionless.
After a long, silent pause, he speaks—calm,
"Shannon."
In an instant, The Woman (shannon) responds.
From her palm, a black blade erupts—
Forged of pure shadow. Pure darkness.
Shannon hurls the spear toward General Kennedy.
WHOOSH!
A blur of shadow ripping through the air—
Closing the distance in the blink of an eye.
CLANG!
Kennedy just barely deflects the spear, his legs buckling under the impact. With a roar, he swings upward, sending the spear spinning into the air.
The Man vanishes—then reappears mid-air beside the weapon, catching the spinning spear with practiced ease.
Shannon then teleports to his side.
From her back, a black, oozing substance slithers outward—
writhing and twisting until it shapes itself into a throne of shadow.
As if time itself begins to slow…
General Kennedy, now just barely able to follow their movements, looks upward—
eyes narrowing as he tracks the figure above.
High above, suspended mid-air near the ceiling—
the man sits calmly upon his throne,
twirling the spear in his hand with quiet deliberation.
slowly—like a game of Russian roulette.
He stops.
The sharp end
He spins it again.
Stops.
The blunt end this time.
A pause.
Then again, it spins—
the weapon dancing between death and mercy with every turn.
Each stop, a silent question.
Each spin, a judgment waiting to be made.
He repeats this several times—
Until finally, with an emotionless expression:
"To kill, or not to kill..."
Before the weight of his words can settle—
Shannon conjures another shadow spear—
this one erupting even faster, more violently, from her palm.
A jagged blur of darkness.
Without hesitation, she hurls it—
WHOOSH!
Straight toward the containment pod.
CRACK!
The glass shatters.
The Man turns—
and meets the eyes of the baby within.