Chapter 3: The Hunt

The wind howled through the ruined city, carrying with it the scent of rust and decay. Elias moved cautiously, his every step muffled by the layer of ash and debris coating the cracked pavement. The pistol he had taken from the dead man felt foreign in his grip, but he wasn’t about to discard it—not when danger lurked in every shadow.

His thoughts were a tangled mess. No memories, no past, only the burning questions clawing at his mind. Who was he? Why was he being hunted? And what was this device embedded in his arm?

A flicker of blue light pulsed beneath his skin, drawing his attention. It had activated before, back in the bunker. Had it saved him? Or had it merely reacted? He flexed his fingers, feeling the faint hum beneath his flesh. Whatever it was, it wasn’t ordinary tech. It was something more.

A distant sound made him freeze.

Voices.

He crouched behind the rusted shell of a toppled vehicle, straining to hear. The voices were low, tense—communication through short, clipped words. Military? Mercenaries? Whoever they were, they were getting closer.

Elias peered through the shattered window. A group of figures moved methodically through the ruins, their dark armor blending into the crumbling environment. Their faces were obscured by masks, glowing red visors cutting through the dusty air like hungry eyes.

"Spread out. He couldn't have gotten far."

Elias’s pulse quickened. They were looking for him.

He glanced around, searching for an escape route. Running blindly would get him killed. He needed a plan. The buildings around him were in various stages of collapse, some offering cover, others nothing more than unstable death traps. His best bet was the subway entrance ahead, partially buried under debris. If he could reach it without being seen—

A sudden burst of static from one of the soldiers’ radios sent a jolt through him.

"Confirmed pulse signature. The target is within fifty meters."

Damn it. They could track him.

Elias took a slow breath. If running wasn’t an option, he had to level the playing field.

Carefully, he gripped a loose piece of concrete and hurled it towards a rusted scaffold in the distance. The clang echoed through the ruins, and immediately, the soldiers snapped to attention.

"Movement! Sector three!"

They moved swiftly, weapons raised, sweeping toward the distraction. Elias took his chance, slipping out from cover and darting toward the subway entrance. He slid down the cracked steps, nearly losing his footing on the loose gravel. The darkness swallowed him as he pressed himself against the cold stone wall, heart hammering.

Above, boots crunched against the pavement.

"Nothing here."

"Keep looking. If he's close, he won’t stay hidden for long."

Elias remained still, every muscle coiled like a spring. The voices drifted farther away, but he knew better than to assume he was safe. They were hunting him. And now, they had a way to track him.

His gaze dropped to his arm.

If he wanted to survive, he needed to understand what this device was.

And he needed to do it before they found him again.

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