Chapter 1: Awakening

A sharp, metallic scent filled his lungs as consciousness crept back into his body. Elias Vance’s first sensation was pain—a dull, persistent ache radiating from his skull down to his spine. His fingers twitched against the cold, uneven surface beneath him. Concrete. Broken, jagged. The air was thick with dust and something rancid, like metal left too long in the rain.

His eyes fluttered open to a ceiling of twisted steel beams and cracked concrete, barely holding together. Sunlight trickled in through the gaps, casting jagged shadows along the walls. His body felt heavy, as if he had been asleep for far too long. A sense of wrongness clawed at the edges of his mind, but he couldn’t quite grasp why.

He pushed himself up, wincing as a sharp pain shot through his left arm. That was when he saw it—the device embedded into his forearm.

It was sleek, metallic, with thin lines of blue light running along its surface. It pulsed faintly, synchronized with the rhythm of his heartbeat. Elias sucked in a breath. His mind scrambled for answers, for memories—but all he found was a void. Who was he? How did he get here? And what the hell was this thing in his arm?

A sound. Footsteps.

His body tensed instinctively. The steps were cautious, deliberate. Whoever it was, they were approaching slowly.

Elias pressed himself against the nearest wall, his breathing shallow. His surroundings became clearer—a ruined building, probably once an underground bunker or a collapsed subway station. Rusted pipes lined the ceiling, some leaking murky water onto the cracked floor. There were remnants of old technology scattered around—hollowed-out terminals, shattered glass screens, and wires that led nowhere.

The footsteps stopped.

“Come out,” a voice called, deep and laced with suspicion. “I know you’re there.”

Elias remained still, his fingers curling into fists. His pulse pounded against his skull. His mind screamed at him to move, to fight, to run—but he had no weapon, no idea where he even was.

A moment of silence. Then, a low sigh.

“Suit yourself.”

The next second, something slammed into the wall beside him—a bullet, embedding itself deep into the concrete. Dust exploded into the air, making Elias cough as he staggered back.

That was all it took. His instincts roared to life. He bolted, feet pounding against the cracked floor as he ran. The second shot missed him by inches, ricocheting off a rusted pipe.

“Shit!”

Elias dove behind a broken terminal, his breath ragged. He needed a plan, fast. His attacker wasn’t some scavenger firing at random—there was precision in those shots. Whoever they were, they wanted him dead.

A flicker of movement in his peripheral vision. He turned just in time to see a shadow moving along the debris. His fingers brushed against something hard on the ground—an old pipe, jagged at one end. Not ideal, but better than nothing.

He waited. Listened.

The next footstep was his cue. Elias swung the pipe with all his strength, connecting with something solid. A grunt of pain followed, and his attacker stumbled back.

A man, dressed in tattered black armor, his face partially hidden behind a cracked visor. He recovered quickly, raising his gun again, but Elias was faster. He lunged forward, slamming his shoulder into the man’s chest. They both went crashing to the ground, wrestling for control.

The gun clattered away.

Elias grabbed the attacker’s wrist, twisting it until he heard a snap. The man let out a strangled cry before Elias shoved him aside and scrambled for the weapon.

His fingers barely closed around it before the attacker tackled him from behind, sending them both rolling across the debris-strewn floor.

Elias landed hard, pain jolting through his ribs. The man was on him in an instant, pinning him down. A knife glinted in the dim light.

Panic surged through Elias as he struggled, but his strength was fading. The blade pressed against his throat—

And then the device in his arm pulsed.

A shockwave erupted from his skin, invisible but forceful, sending his attacker flying backward. The man crashed into the debris, groaning.

Elias gasped, staring at his own arm in disbelief. The blue lights along the device flickered erratically before settling back into their slow, rhythmic glow.

“What the hell…?”

He didn’t have time to question it. Grabbing the fallen gun, he forced himself to his feet, legs shaking. His attacker was still conscious but dazed, trying to push himself up.

Elias aimed the weapon at him. “Who are you?”

The man coughed, wiping blood from his split lip. He let out a hoarse laugh. “You really don’t remember, do you?”

Elias frowned. “Remember what?”

A slow grin spread across the man’s face. Despite the blood, despite the broken wrist, he seemed… amused.

“Oh, you’re in for a treat,” the man rasped. “They’ll be coming for you soon.”

A chill ran down Elias’s spine. “Who?”

But the man just chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ll see.”

Before Elias could react, the man bit down on something—an object hidden in his mouth. A second later, he convulsed, foam spilling from his lips. His body went limp.

Elias took a step back, stomach twisting. Suicide. Whoever this guy worked for, he’d rather die than talk.

His gaze drifted back to his arm. The device was still glowing, faint but steady. He exhaled shakily.

No memories. No idea who was after him. A strange technology embedded in his body.

One thing was certain—he needed answers.

And he needed them fast.

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