Chapter 11: The Prototype

They reached the central elevator. Cipher jammed a hacking spike into the control panel. The screen flickered, then displayed a single warning message:

[SUBJECT: CIPHER - ACCESS RESTRICTED]

Luna glanced at him. "That’s... unsettling."

Cipher didn’t react. "They knew I’d come."

Before she could respond, the entire facility shook.

The elevator doors opened.

Inside stood a figure—tall, broad-shouldered, clad in a sleek, experimental combat suit. His silver-gray eyes mirrored Cipher’s own, but where Cipher was a weapon honed through battle, this man was something... different.

A successor.

Luna’s breath caught in her throat. "Is that—"

Cipher took a step forward. "Designation?"

The figure tilted his head, voice eerily similar to Cipher’s. "Requiem."

Luna tensed. "Oh, that’s not good."

Cipher remained still, analyzing the man in front of him. "You are here to kill me."

Requiem’s expression didn’t change. "You are obsolete."

The two stared at each other in absolute silence.

Then, in the blink of an eye, they moved.

The clash was instant, violent, precise.

Cipher and Requiem exchanged blows at speeds no normal human could follow. A knife flashed—Cipher dodged by a fraction of an inch, countering with a calculated strike to the throat.

Requiem blocked it.

Cipher pivoted, firing point-blank. Requiem twisted his body, avoiding the shot before delivering a brutal kick to Cipher’s ribs.

Cipher slid back, unfazed.

Luna watched, stunned. "You’ve never missed before."

Cipher didn’t reply. His mind was already processing the fight.

Requiem wasn’t just strong.

He was Cipher’s equal.

The prototype versus the perfected model.

Only one of them would leave this place alive.

The world blurred as Cipher and Requiem clashed, their movements too fast for any normal human to comprehend.

A knife slashed—Cipher dodged by a hair’s breadth, countering with a precise elbow strike to the jaw. Requiem took the hit without flinching, twisting Cipher’s arm in an attempt to snap it.

Cipher shifted his weight, breaking free and landing a kick to Requiem’s ribs.

Impact detected. No damage sustained.

Cipher’s mind processed the data instantly. Requiem’s body wasn’t just enhanced—it was reinforced. He wasn’t just better. He was designed to win.

Luna watched in horror from behind cover. Cipher had never struggled before. Never been matched. But now—

He wasn’t the only predator in the room.

Requiem took a slow step forward. "You were the blueprint. I am the final product."

Cipher’s expression remained blank. "You are flawed."

Requiem’s eyes narrowed. "How so?"

Cipher holstered his empty pistol and drew a second knife.

"Because I don’t lose."

The fight escalated into a deadly storm of metal and violence.

Cipher weaved through Requiem’s attacks, calculating, adapting. He aimed for joints, weak points, anything that could slow the enhanced assassin down.

Nothing worked.

Requiem moved with mechanical precision, countering every strike, blocking every bullet. This wasn’t a fight. It was an execution.

For the first time, Cipher realized—this was what it felt like to be hunted.

Requiem drove his fist into Cipher’s ribs, sending him crashing through a reinforced glass wall.

Luna gasped. "Cipher!"

Cipher rolled to his feet, blood trailing from his lip. His body screamed in protest, but he ignored it. Pain was irrelevant.

Requiem stepped through the shattered glass, his expression as unreadable as Cipher’s own. "You were a mistake."

Cipher exhaled slowly.

Adapt. Overcome. Kill.

If direct combat wouldn’t work, he’d find another way.

His eyes flickered to the exposed power conduits along the wall.

A plan formed.