While Namkhai was telling his story, a raid of armored vehicles arrived at the prison. Their steel sides reflected the spotlights, and the wheels kicked up dust across the road. The van doors swung open almost at the same time: soldiers in green segmented armor jumped out with quick, sharp movements, holding heavy carbines. Only after them, slowly and calmly, stepped out a dark-skinned man in a yellow shirt and black glasses. His walk was steady and commanding — someone who was used to being in charge.

  Andok - the overseer of Sector Thirteen.

  The prison staff were already waiting for him at the gate, lined up in a row.

  “Sir Andok, good evening,” one of them said, giving a formal bow.

  “Hello. How’s my prisoner? I hope you didn’t torture him. I need him in good condition.”

  “He’s in Block E, sir. Do you want to see him?”

  “No, I’ll see him later. First, load him into the truck. And right now, I need your chief. I want to talk to him.”

  “Of course, follow me.” The worker led him inside.

  Andok walked toward the entrance without slowing down. As he moved, one of his subordinates carefully approached him:

  “Sir, I have a suggestion. Since we have some time, maybe we should let the kid out of the capsule… he’s been lying still all day. It could cause problems later.”

  Andok lifted his chin a little, thinking:

  “Hm….. if he promises not to cause trouble, let him walk around the holding cell.”

  At the command, the soldiers pulled a heavy sealed capsule out of the van. On the side panel, the marking #1991 stood out in bright letters. Next to it were oxygen tanks, status sensors, and several blinking indicators that clicked from time to time. A few people carefully placed it onto an anti-gravity platform. The noise of the machinery faded, and the capsule floated smoothly after the squad.

  A prison worker, noticing the device, asked in surprise:

  “Is that, another prisoner you’re transporting?”

  “Yes,” Andok answered calmly without even looking at it. “A stubborn one. They gave him to me for free, said he’s too much trouble, but strong. I need people like that.”

  The procession moved deeper into the building.

  Meanwhile, a few kilometers from the prison, on the edge of an abandoned construction site, Samson was standing still. He watched the convoy arrive through his binoculars. The green armor suits, Andok’s yellow shirt - everything was clear.

  “Shit,” he muttered under his breath. “The sector chief is here too, very bad timing. No choice. We’ll have to move even faster.”

  ______

  “That’s how I ended up here,” Namkhai finished, lowering his head tiredly.

  Silence.

  “Hey,” he said irritably, “why did you go quiet? You don’t believe me again?”

  “No,” the man finally replied. “Your story doesn’t sound fake. Too many details for it to be a lie.”

  “Oh, so now you believe I’m actually a monk?”

  “I still doubt that part,”

  “What the hell? I basically poured out my whole soul, and you STILL think I’m lying?!”

  “I said I doubt it,” the neighbor corrected calmly. “But that’s not important right now. You mentioned the killer appeared… out of some kind of black slime behind you?”

  “Yeah. You know that bastard?”

  “Not personally, but there are rumors - about a clan killer who comes out of the shadows. They call him Phobos. It means he’s like fear itself.”

  “Whoa, that little guy is that famous?”

  “Yes. And you fought him? That’s crazy.”

  “Heh, yeah. But he wasn’t that scary. Just an ugly face, that’s all.”

  “That’s exactly why they threw you in here,” the neighbor said. “Normal guards can’t handle someone like you.”

  “Let them try. I’ll break every bone they’ve got.”

  “Heh. And you call yourself a monk. What kind of monk likes hurting people?”

  “My grandpa taught me that in secret from the elders. He always said it would be useful one day. And he was right.”

  “Hah, sounds like the old man knew you well. He sensed you’d run away from the monastery.”

  “Yeah.” Namkhai’s voice suddenly turned strangely quiet, almost sad. “He knew..”

  “All right… is there anything you want to know? I’ve been here for a long time. I can give you some info if you need it.”

  “Yeah, maybe. But first I want to know… Who are you, anyway? What’s your name, and why are you here?”

  “My name isn’t important. And I’m here because I refuse to admit to something I didn’t do.”

  “What do you mean? Why so secretive? What are you even accused of?”

  “I can’t say.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  “Years. I stopped counting.”

  “What is wrong with you…” Namkhai began, but stopped when he heard footsteps coming closer down the hallway. He got up and went to the slit in the door.

  “They’re bringing another one,” the neighbor said calmly. “Busy day, huh.”

  Namkhai pressed his face to the door. In the distance he heard the hum of a platform. Soldiers in green armor were guiding capsule #1991.

  The platform stopped at the very end of the hall. The soldiers looked at each other and slowly began lowering the cargo.

  The platform stopped completely. The soldiers took positions and started unlocking the clamps, preparing to open the hatch. One of them raised his hand - a signal to freeze.

  But before the lid could open, a muffled voice came from inside…

  And at that exact moment, a loud explosion rocked another part of the prison. The walls shook, dust fell from the ceiling. The soldiers and Namkhai staggered from the shockwave.

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  “What’s that noise?!” one of the soldiers shouted.

  A siren echoed through the hallway in response.

  “Possible escape. Wrap it up, now!”

  Two soldiers reacted instantly: they shut the capsule hatch, reactivated the locks, and reattached the clamps. The platform shook as the mechanism lifted the capsule.

  “Move, faster!” the senior ordered, and the squad hurried back down the hallway, the way they came.

  Their footsteps faded. Namkhai was still standing there, pressing his forehead against the cold metal door.

  “Did you hear that? Someone tried to escape,” he said to the guy next to him.

  “I heard. All the guards are going to rush there now. I haven’t heard an explosion like that here before.”

  “That means we can get out of here while everyone’s busy,” Namkhai’s eyes lit up with excitement.

  “Heh. Only if you can break down this thick door with your bare fists…”

  “You think I can’t? I got some rest while talking to you, so wait for me.”

  ______

  At the site of the explosion stood Samson, Delilah, Rull, Gendilheim with a huge coffin on his back wrapped in heavy chains, Arthur, Darkblock, and a young fair-haired guy in a cap - Pilgrim. They formed a half-circle in front of the ruined wall they had just broken through. Fire raged everywhere, wires sparked, and the alarm noise was already rising through the corridors.

  Samson clapped his hands to get their attention:

  “Alright, guys, we’ve entered the prison. Now - Delilah and Arthur, you go look for our targets in that hall. Pilgrim, you take that one. And I, Rull, Gendilheim, and Darkblock will hold the soldiers until you return. Good lu--”

  “We will hold them?” Rull cut him off at once. “You’re going to hold off the military? Go hide somewhere before you catch a bullet.”

  “Ah… right, thanks Rull. Anyway, do your thing, everyone,” Samson nodded without a hint of shame. He turned to Darkblock. “Colleague, can you help me hide from death?”

  “Of course,” Darkblock said calmly as he opened his heavy duffel bag. “Which block do you want this time, chief?”

  “Give me… a rectangular one, if you have it. With a small notch, so I can watch you guys.”

  “Hm. One moment…” Darkblock began digging through the massive black stone blocks inside the bag.

  But there was no time left. Soldiers and prison staff burst into the corridor. Shouting mixed with gunfire.

  Rull, Arthur, Delilah, Gendilheim, and Pilgrim moved at the same moment. Each in their own direction, switching to action.

  Delilah tore off her gloves. She slid between bullets, touching soldiers wherever she could find even a bit of exposed skin. They screamed in pain instantly. Arthur stayed beside her, covering her with fire from his hands. Together they disappeared into the corridor Samson had pointed out.

  Pilgrim dashed through the opposite door. He was short, but incredibly fast. His legs, bent and powerful like a grasshopper’s, pushed off the floor with huge force. He jumped forward in bursts and easily dodged bullets while cutting enemies down with two axes.

  Rull and Gendilheim fired back, covering Samson and Darkblock. Rull carried a compact submachine gun, short bursts cutting through the air. Gendilheim held a heavy machine gun. The enemy’s bullets hit them, but neither Rull nor Gendilheim even blinked. The shots didn’t hurt them.

  “Rull, left!” Gendilheim barked.

  “Got it!” she shouted back, shifting her position and firing, pushing the soldiers back.

  Gendilheim swept his machine gun in a wide arc, forcing the enemies into cover, but the heavy rounds were punching through the concrete.

  From the corner of her eye, Rull noticed one of the soldiers pulling out a rocket launcher.

  “Fck.. my skin won’t save me from that,” a wave of worry hit her. She whipped around toward Samson - and there he was, still standing next to Darkblock, who was digging through his bag.

  “You’re STILL here?!”

  “Rull, wait. Darkblock is looking,” Samson said calmly, pointing at the cyclops rummaging through his bag.

  “Darkblock! Give him ANYTHING already!”

  “Hold on, hold on, I remember I had exactly the block the chief wanted… ah!” He pulled out a rectangular artifact. “Here it is!”

  But he didn’t get the chance to use it. The soldiers had already raised the rocket launcher, aiming it right at Samson and Darkblock. When Rull saw this, she jumped forward. The ground shook under her as she rushed ahead, trying to push Samson out of the line of fire, but she didn’t make it the shot had already gone off. The explosion filled the corridor with a blinding flash.

  Rull, expecting the blast wave to tear her apart, instinctively covered Samson with her own body. The next moment she heard Samson’s calm voice:

  “Thanks, guys!”

  She opened her eyes and saw Gendilheim standing in front of them, turned with his back toward the explosion. His huge coffin, chained to his back, had taken the full impact. The metal was only slightly smoking.

  Gendilheim lowered his head toward her.

  “Don’t worry, Rull. As long as I’m here, nothing will happen to the chief.”

  “What is that coffin even made of…?” one of the shocked soldiers muttered.

  Rull’s eyebrow twitched. She yanked Samson to the side with one pull.

  “Darkblock, quickly seal this idiot.”

  “Uh… of course!” Darkblock finally pulled a small artifact from his bag, one that fit in his palm. He threw it at Samson’s feet.

  The block flashed and expanded into a full massive barrier-wall that nothing could break through.

  “Perfect!” Samson said happily, already hiding behind the wall.

  “The kid is safe now,” Rull muttered as she cocked her weapon. “Alright, let’s give these bastards a fight while Delilah and the others search for the targets!”

  Delilah and Arthur rushed through the prison, taking down enemies as they went. They moved almost in sync: Delilah - silent, fast, and deadly accurate, Arthur - roaring with fire and fury.

  Soldiers jumped out from around corners, but Arthur raised his hands, and fire burst from his palms. Metal melted under the heat, and the enemies fell before they could even aim.

  One of the corridors lit up red - an automatic turret activated on the ceiling. It turned toward them, its barrels spinning up.

  Arthur only sighed.

  “These things annoy me so much.”

  He thrust one hand forward a fierce stream of fire hit the turret. The metal glowed white-hot, and the whole thing fell down. Delilah spun under the falling pieces, touched another soldier’s bare skin with her open palm, and he collapsed with a scream, passing out from the pain. She rose again, covering Arthur with her quick movement.

  “Delilah, how’s it look? Do you feel anyone like them nearby?” Arthur asked, scanning the branching halls.

  Delilah tribe came from a world where people could sense the breath of life - every vibration of energy, every heartbeat within dozens of meters. If she knew the description of a target, she could tell them apart from everyone else without fail.

  She closed her eyes for a moment and gave him a short gesture: no one yet.

  “Got it,” Arthur exhaled, flames rising in his hands again. “Then we go deeper.”

  Pilgrim, on the opposite side of the prison, wasn’t wasting time either. He moved so fast that the soldiers barely noticed him.

  But then something unusual caught his attention. A group of soldiers was walking down the corridor, escorting a heavy capsule. He stopped right in front of them.

  The soldiers stumbled for a moment and quickly raised their weapons.

  “Who the hell are you? What are you doing here?” the leader barked.

  Pilgrim stayed silent. He only tilted his head slightly, looking at the capsule behind them. The number on its side was clear: #1991.

  “Oh… another government experiment?” he muttered to himself. “The boss will definitely want to know who’s inside.”

  “Hey! What are you mumbling about?” one of the soldiers asked.

  Pilgrim didn’t answer. He simply rushed forward and attacked them in the same instant.

  At that moment, Delilah felt a familiar signal - something that reminded her of their mission’s target. She motioned to Arthur to speed up. They ran down the corridor, and when they saw a door ahead, Arthur jumped, kicking it open with both legs. The door flew wide.

  Behind the bars sat Dana and Dinar.

  “Finally, you showed up. We’ve been waiting too long,” Dinar said.

  “Hey, we came without proper prep, so don’t start complaining,” Arthur replied, melting the bars with his fire to free them.

  Dinar helped his mistress stand, and the two stepped out of the cell.

  “I’m paying you for your services, so don’t whine.”

  “Your boss is paying us, you leech,” Arthur wanted to shout, but kept it in.

  Delilah met Dana’s eyes. In front of her stood a wounded, exhausted girl. Dalila simply gave her a warm smile. Dana smiled back and quietly said:

  “Thank you for coming for me.”

  Arthur used a small transmitter to inform the whole group that he and Delilah had found the targets and were ready to leave.

  “Got it, good job. We’re waiting for you at the exit,” Samson replied through the device.

  They moved to regroup with the others.

  Samson stuck his head out from behind the cover and shouted to Rul and the others, who were still in a shootout:

  “Hold on, friends! Arthur said they found the targets - just a bit more and this mission is done!”

  “Get your head down! They’ll shoot it off!” Rul yelled at him.

  “HEY, BOSS!” someone screamed from afar.

  Samson turned and saw Pilgrim racing toward them on a levitating platform with a capsule mounted on it. He was speeding straight at them.

  “Look! I found another poor guy the government was torturing! Maybe we should keep him?” Pilgrim shouted.

  Samson lit up with excitement.

  “Pilgrim! You’re awesome as always! Bring it here, let’s see who’s inside!”

  “Heh, heh, grea--” Pilgrim didn’t finish. Losing control of the platform, he crashed into a broken pillar, and the capsule snapped free, falling right onto the battlefield and breaking the locks.

  The soldiers instantly stopped shooting when they saw the capsule.

  “What’s wrong with them?” Rul asked, confused.

  Samson stared at the capsule with interest.

  It slowly opened, and out of it stepped…