REVEALED TRUTH

A soft clinking noise pulled Dante's attention. One of the younger mechanical villagers approached him cautiously, its tiny metal hands clutching a steaming cup. The little bot's glowing eyes blinked unevenly as it held the drink out.

"For you," it said in a stuttering voice, gears clicking with every syllable.

Dante stared at the cup, then at the bot. "Uh… thanks?" He hesitated, sniffing the drink suspiciously. It smelled… metallic. He raised an eyebrow at Nana, silently asking if it was safe.

She didn't look up. "Drink it or don't. Won't kill you."

"Comforting," Dante muttered, setting the cup aside. The mechanical child watched him expectantly, then shuffled away, shoulders slumped as if disappointed.

Silence returned, broken only by the occasional creak of the old house. Then, without looking at him, Nana spoke.

"I grew up here."

Dante blinked, caught off guard. "Here? In this… scrapyard?"

Her eyes narrowed. "It wasn't always like this."

She leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees. The firelight cast flickering shadows across her metallic limbs, making them glint like polished steel.

"These people… they were human once. Just like you."

Dante scoffed lightly, glancing at the mechanical beings moving around in perfect rhythm. "Doesn't look like it."

"That's because they aren't anymore." Her voice dropped, heavier now. "The U.S. made sure of that."

Dante's smirk faded. "What are you talking about?"

Nana exhaled slowly, the memories crawling back. "Years ago, when the war started, the government decided this region wasn't worth protecting. Too isolated. Too… inconvenient. So they ran their experiments here. They turned people—families, children—into this." She gestured toward the mechanical villagers. "Machines. Weapons."

Dante shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the walls as if they were listening. "Why? Why would they do that?"

"Control." Her tone sharpened. "Bodies that don't break. Soldiers that don't disobey. It started with volunteers… then it wasn't voluntary anymore."

Dante's throat tightened. "And you? You were part of this?"

Nana's gaze darkened. "My family tried to run. So did others. We built this village deep in the snow, hiding from them. But it was too late. Most of us were already… changing."

Her fingers unconsciously brushed the metal of her forearm, the coldness biting her skin.

Dante looked away, guilt gnawing at him. "And the U.S.? They just… let this happen?"

"They made it happen."

Silence swallowed the room again. The fire cracked and popped, its warmth now feeling distant.

Dante shifted uncomfortably. "So, what now? You just… stay here? Hide forever?"

Nana's eyes glimmered with something between exhaustion and defiance. "I didn't come back here to hide."

Outside, the storm screamed louder, but inside, the fire continued to burn.

Dante stared into the fire, the orange glow flickering in his eyes. Nana's words hung heavily in the air, pressing down on him.

"The U.S.?" he muttered, his voice uncertain. "They did this?"

Nana shook her head slowly, a bitter smirk curling on her lips.

"No." She leaned back, arms crossed. "It's easier to blame a nation, isn't it? But this… this wasn't the U.S. government."

Dante frowned. "Then who?"

Her eyes darkened. "A man. Someone who claimed to serve the U.S., but he was never loyal to anyone but himself. He built his own organization—deep, hidden. Twisting technology for his own satisfaction. Power, control… maybe even curiosity. Who knows?"

Dante's brows knitted together. The weight of her words gnawed at him.

Nana's voice softened but carried a razor's edge. "That organization still exists. They're the ones pulling strings from the shadows."

She glanced at him, sharp and knowing. "And nowadays… you're part of it."

The words struck him like a hammer.

"What?" Dante's eyes widened, his back straightening. "What the hell are you talking about? I—I don't even know what this is! I was—"

But Nana only let out a quiet, dry chuckle.

"Relax." Her smirk deepened. "I wasn't talking about you."

Dante's mouth opened, but nothing came out. His face twisted between confusion and annoyance.

"I knew someone once," she continued, her voice distant now. "Someone named Dante. He was part of them. Or maybe… he thought he wasn't."

Dante scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Great. So I share a name with some shady guy. Wonderful."

Nana didn't laugh this time. She just stared into the fire.

"Names have weight," she murmured. "Maybe it's not a coincidence."

The flames crackled, shadows dancing along the walls.

Dante leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Alright, fine. Let's say I believe you. What happened to your Dante?"

Nana's smirk faded.

"He made his choice."

Her words were quiet, but they sliced through the room like ice.

And then there was only the storm outside and the fire between them.

Dante shifted uncomfortably, still chewing on Nana's words. The fire crackled between them, casting long shadows on the walls.

Then, breaking the heavy silence, Nana tilted her head slightly, a sly smirk creeping onto her lips.

"So," she drawled, her tone suddenly lighter, "you got another name I can call you?"

Dante blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

She chuckled, leaning back against the wall. "I mean, Dante doesn't exactly have the best reputation right now." Her eyes glinted playfully. "Unless you want me to keep thinking you're some secret agent here to stab me in my sleep."

Dante scoffed. "Yeah, because that's exactly what I'm doing. Freezing my ass off in the snow with you."

She raised a brow. "Didn't answer the question."

He huffed, glancing away. "I don't know. I've never really thought about it."

Nana tapped her chin mockingly. "Hmm… how about Tiny? Or maybe Snowpants?"

Dante snapped his head toward her, face twisted in disbelief. "Snowpants? Are you serious?"

Nana grinned. "Dead serious."

He groaned, running a hand down his face. "You're impossible."

"Oh, come on." She leaned forward, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Give me something better, or I'm sticking with Snowpants."

Dante opened his mouth, thought for a moment, then sighed in defeat.

"…Fine. Call me… Ash."

Nana raised an eyebrow. "Ash?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. It sounds cool. Mysterious. Like someone who doesn't freeze to death in a snowstorm."

Nana stared at him for a beat—then burst into laughter.

"Oh, wow! Yeah, so cool. So edgy." She wiped a tear from her eye. "Okay, Ash. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Dante grumbled, crossing his arms. "Better than Snowpants."

"Debatable," she teased, the warmth in her voice briefly chasing away the cold.

And for a moment, the storm outside didn't feel so loud.

The cold wind bit at Nana's face as she quietly moved to the back of the small house. The mechanical villagers inside were still murmuring among themselves, and Dante—or Ash, as he insisted—was probably still brooding by the fire.

Nana sighed, pushing herself off the creaky wooden chair. "I need something stronger than this," she muttered, eyeing the lukewarm drink in her hands. The mechanical villagers buzzed quietly in their corners, and Dante—Ash—was still brooding by the fire.

Without a word, Nana slipped on her boots and coat, heading toward the back door.

"Where are you going?" Dante called after her.

"Making my own drink," she tossed over her shoulder, letting the cold air swallow her words as the door creaked shut behind her.

The snow crunched beneath her boots as she ventured deeper into the frozen woods, the trees looming like silent sentinels. The storm had quieted into a slow, steady fall of snow, casting everything in a pale glow.

"I'll be back," she murmured to herself, though no one was around to hear.

She wasn't going to make a drink. Not really.

Her boots crunched softly in the snow as she moved deeper into the forest, the biting air slicing through the thin blouse under her coat. The trees thickened, towering and bare, branches clawing at the sky. Nana didn't waver. She knew where she was going.

The path twisted and stretched endlessly under the weight of the snowstorm, but eventually, the shadows parted to reveal an old iron gate, rusted and sagging. Its black bars stood crooked against the pale backdrop of snow.

The graveyard.

Nana's breath caught for a moment.

But she wasn't alone.

There, standing still before a lonely gravestone, was an old woman. Fragile but unyielding. The wind tugged at her thin shawl, yet she didn't move.

Nana froze behind the gate, gripping the icy bars.

Linda Sullivan.

The woman lingered in silence, staring down at the stone. Nana couldn't hear her words, only the faint rustle of wind between them.

Minutes passed. Maybe longer.

Then, slowly, Linda turned and began her quiet, deliberate walk away, vanishing into the trees without ever noticing Nana's shadow lingering behind the gate.

Only when Linda disappeared entirely did Nana move.

She stepped forward carefully, the snow crunching beneath her.

Andy's grave was simple, weathered by time.

Nana knelt before it, the cold bleeding into her bones.

"Andy…" Her voice trembled, barely more than a whisper.

Her metal fingers traced the worn letters of his name.

"I woke up. A long time ago… but you didn't know, did you?"

Her breath wavered in the frigid air.

"I didn't know either. Not about… what they did to you. About how he sabotaged you."

Nana's fists clenched, the metal of her joints creaking softly.

"I only got the report that you failed the mission. They told me you were gone. And then…" Her voice faltered. "They put me back under. Experimented again. Twisting my mind, tearing me apart piece by piece."

She let out a shaky breath.

"But you were there. Through all of it. You stayed with me. Even when I was nothing but a broken shell, you didn't leave."

Her throat tightened.

"And you… you saved me during the war. You pulled me out when no one else would."

The snow swirled around her, settling gently on the gravestone.

"Thank you," she whispered. "For staying. Even when you weren't here."

Silence hung between them, heavy and fragile.

Then, slowly, Nana rose to her feet.

"I swear to you," she said, steady now, "I'll stay alive. As long as I can. And I'll be happy. Even if it kills me."

She turned away, the wind catching in her coat as she took her first step back into the woods.

But for a moment, she thought she felt warmth behind her—as if someone was still there, quietly watching.

The sky darkened, swallowing the last pale light of day.

Nana hadn't made it far from Andy's grave when the first sound tore through the stillness—a low, distant rumble.

Then came the sharp crack of something breaking.

Her head snapped toward the village.

Smoke.

Thick, black smoke rising into the sky, twisting with the snow.

No.

Her legs moved before she could think, snow spraying beneath her boots as she sprinted back through the trees. Branches clawed at her coat, biting into her skin, but she didn't slow down.

Then—boom!

The ground shuddered beneath her.

She stumbled, catching herself against a tree. The air stank of burning metal and gunpowder.

Bursts of gunfire echoed in the distance.

Nana burst through the trees, her breath freezing in the air.

The village was in chaos.

Flames licked the rooftops of mechanical houses, casting jagged shadows across the snow. Mechanical villagers scrambled in all directions, their metal limbs glinting in the firelight. Sparks flew as some collapsed, riddled with bullets.

Armored soldiers swarmed the streets—bearing the insignia she knew all too well.

The Organization.

Her eyes darted wildly, searching for Dante.

"Nana!"

His voice cut through the noise. She turned sharply, spotting him across the wreckage, crouched behind an overturned cart. His arm was bleeding again.

They locked eyes.

But before she could move—whiz!

A bullet sliced past her cheek.

She dropped, rolling behind a pile of smoldering scrap.

"You can't hide forever!" a voice snarled behind her.

Heavy boots crunched through the snow

"They are haunting me"

Heart pounding, Nana scanned the burning village. There was no escape through the main road—it was crawling with soldiers.

Her breath hitched.

The old tunnels.

She bolted.

Dodging between collapsing houses, she ducked behind what remained of a mechanical smithy. The air was thick with smoke and metal dust.

A flash of movement—one of the soldiers lunged at her.

She spun, slamming her metal fist into his helmet. The crunch of steel meeting bone was sickening. He dropped.

But more were closing in.

"She's heading for the north exit!" one of them barked.

No, I'm not.

Nana feinted right, then dove left, slipping through a narrow alleyway.

Bullets ripped through the walls beside her, spraying sparks.

She didn't stop.

Sliding into a half-collapsed house, she kicked aside debris until she found it—the rusted hatch in the floor.

Her fingers tore at the frozen latch.

Come on, come on!

It snapped open.

She dropped in, landing hard in the dark tunnel below.

The cold, stale air closed around her.

She didn't wait.

Footsteps pounded above as the soldiers swarmed past, unaware she had vanished underground.

Nana sprinted through the narrow passage, boots echoing against the stone.

But even here, in the suffocating dark, she knew they wouldn't stop hunting her.

Not until she was dead.

Or worse.

She gritted her teeth.

Not today.

And she ran.

The tunnel stretched endlessly, swallowing Nana in damp darkness. Each step echoed off the stone walls, mixing with the distant hum of chaos above. The cold gnawed at her skin, but she pushed forward, breaths ragged and shallow.

A faint noise pricked her ears—drip… drip… water leaking from cracks above. But beneath that… footsteps.

Not alone.

Nana pressed herself flat against the wall, barely breathing. A flicker of light danced at the far end of the tunnel. Shadows stretched long and thin.

They're down here too.

Her fingers instinctively brushed the cold metal at her hip—the pistol still warm from the earlier shot. She drew it slowly, the metal creaking in her grip.

The footsteps grew louder. Closer.

Then—silence.

"Nana?"

The voice was strained, raw.

Dante—no,—Ash.

Her grip tightened. For a moment, she considered staying hidden.

Then she stepped forward cautiously. "Dante?"

From the shadows, Dante stumbled into view, clutching his side. His clothes were torn, and soot stained his face.

"You're alive," he muttered, half in disbelief.

"Of course I am," she shot back, though her breath betrayed her relief. "How did you—"

"Old man with metal arms shoved me through a trapdoor," he grunted, leaning against the wall. "Didn't think I'd see you again."

"Yeah, well, we're not dead yet," she said, moving past him. "Come on."

They moved deeper into the tunnel, the air growing colder, thinner.

"Where does this even go?" Ash asked, his voice bouncing off the walls.

"Out," Nana said flatly. "If we're lucky."

"And if we're not?"

Her silence was answer enough.

The tunnel began to slope upward, the air shifting.

Then—BOOM!

The ground trembled. Dust rained from the ceiling.

"Keep moving!" Nana barked.

But Dante stumbled. His wound was worse than she thought.

Nana cursed under her breath. Without thinking, she slipped under his arm, propping him up.

"You're heavier than you look."

"Not my fault you're tiny," he shot back weakly.

They reached a rusted metal door. Nana kicked it hard. Once. Twice. The hinges groaned, then gave way.

Cold air blasted them as they emerged into a frozen ravine.

Behind them, the tunnel mouth collapsed in a shower of stone and dust.

No going back.

They staggered forward into the snow.

Above them, the sky was burning red from the village's destruction.

Nana didn't look back.

Neither did Ash.

The storm was far from over.

The wind howled through the ravine, sharp and biting, carrying flecks of snow that stung Nana's skin. She tightened her grip around Ash's waist, half-carrying him through the waist-deep snow.

Every step felt heavier, the cold clawing deeper into their bones.

"We need shelter," Nana muttered, scanning the desolate expanse ahead.

Dante groaned beside her, barely conscious. His weight sagged more with every step.

The storm thickened. Snow swirled violently, swallowing the path ahead.

Then—something dark in the distance. A jagged silhouette breaking the endless white.

Nana narrowed her eyes.

A cave.

Without another thought, she dragged Ash forward, the snow crunching beneath their boots.

By the time they reached the mouth of the cave, her arms trembled with exhaustion. She half-dragged, half-dropped Dante against the rock wall.

"Stay awake," she snapped, slapping his cheek lightly. "Don't pass out now."

He let out a weak chuckle. "Bossy."

Ignoring him, Nana scanned the cave. It was deep enough to shield them from the wind but offered little else.

We need heat.

Her mind raced. No fire, no fuel.

Then, an idea.

Without hesitation, she peeled off her ruined coat, exposing the thin blouse clinging to her skin.

"What—" Ash started.

"Shut up," she muttered.

She tore the fabric into strips, wrapping it around a scrap of metal she pulled from her belt. With a spark from the flint she kept hidden, flames sputtered to life.

A small fire, but enough.

The flickering light cast long shadows across the cave walls.

Dante's eyes followed her as she sat down, holding her mechanical arms close to the fire.

"You're freezing," he mumbled.

"So are you," she shot back, tossing what little fabric remained over his shoulders.

For a moment, silence hung between them, broken only by the crackle of flames.

Then, quietly—

"Why are you helping me?" Ash's voice was barely above a whisper.

Nana didn't answer right away. She stared into the fire, watching the flames dance.

Finally, she spoke.

"Because once… someone didn't give up on me."

The wind howled outside, but inside the cave, the fire burned steady.

And they sat there, survivors in a war neither of them fully understood yet.

The fire crackled softly, casting fleeting shadows on the damp cave walls. The storm outside raged on, howling like a wounded beast, but in the flickering glow, there was a fragile stillness.

Ash's eyes drooped, his body giving in to exhaustion. Nana sat close to the fire, arms wrapped tightly around her knees. The heat barely reached her, but it was enough to keep the cold from gnawing at her bones.

Her mind wasn't here.

It drifted—back to the village, to the faces of those mechanical survivors she couldn't save. To Andy. To the grave she left behind.

How many times will I run before everything is taken away again?

A sudden cough snapped her back. Dante shifted uncomfortably, grimacing in pain.

Nana leaned over. "Hey, stay with me. You're not dying on me now."

His eyes fluttered open, unfocused. "I'm fine," he muttered, clearly not fine.

"You're bleeding through the bandage."

"Yeah? Well, I don't see you fixing it."

Nana scowled. "Idiot."

She rummaged through what little remained of her supplies and tightened the bandage on his side. He winced but didn't complain.

The fire sputtered as the wind outside roared louder.

Nana's head snapped toward the cave entrance.

Something's wrong.

The storm was too loud, too sudden. Like it was chasing them.

Slowly, she stood, brushing snow off her legs.

"What now?" Ash slurred.

Nana didn't answer. She crept toward the cave's mouth, careful not to disturb the snow. The wind howled, but beneath it… there was movement.

Crunch.

Crunch.

Footsteps.

Her breath hitched.

Then—a faint, flickering red light in the distance.

Drones.

Her pulse quickened.

They had followed them.

Nana spun back to Ash. "We have to move. Now."

He groaned, trying to sit up. "Are you serious? I can't even—"

"No time. They found us."

Panic flashed in his eyes, but Nana was already yanking him to his feet.

The fire hissed as snow blew into the cave.

Then—BZZZT.

A thin, red laser flickered across the cave wall.

Nana's eyes widened.

They're scanning.

She grabbed Ash's arm and bolted deeper into the cave.

Behind them, the drone's whirring grew louder.

Blades slicing through the wind.

Then—PEW!

A shot rang out, searing the stone where Nana's head had been a second before.

"RUN!" she screamed, dragging Ash with her.

The tunnel twisted and narrowed, forcing them to squeeze through jagged stone.

Ash stumbled. "Where the hell does this even go?!"

"I don't know!" she barked. "Anywhere but here!"

The drone squeezed into the tunnel, its metal arms scraping against the rock, sparks flying.

Another laser charged.

Nana spun, firing blindly. BANG!

The bullet ricocheted, but it was enough to send the drone tilting off balance.

They kept running.

The tunnel suddenly dropped into a steep slope.

Nana didn't stop. She dove, dragging Dante with her.

They tumbled, rocks tearing at their clothes, the drone shrieking above.

Then—WHAM!

They slammed into hard ground.

Air knocked out of them.

Nana gasped, rolling over.

A faint light glimmered ahead.

An exit.

"We're close!" she coughed, pulling Ash up.

But the drone was relentless, squeezing through the tunnel, sparks trailing behind it.

Nana fired again. Click.

Empty.

"Move!"

They sprinted toward the light, every muscle screaming.

Behind them, the drone whirred louder, charging a final shot.

They burst through the cave's mouth—

—And straight off a cliff.

Snow and wind swallowed them whole as they plummeted into the white abyss.

And then—

Darkness.

Nana's body slammed into the thick snow, the cold swallowing her whole. For a moment, everything was still—her breath stolen, her limbs heavy.

Alive… barely.

A groan beside her. Ash.

She forced her head up, blinking through the icy haze. Dante was sprawled a few feet away, half-buried in snow, coughing violently.

"You're… kidding me," he wheezed.

Nana dragged herself forward, snow crunching beneath her. "Get up. We're not safe yet."

Ash groaned, trying to roll over. "How are you still moving?"

"Because I don't have a choice!" she snapped, grabbing his arm and yanking him to his feet.

Above them, the shrill whir of drones pierced the air.

Nana's eyes darted upward.

More of them.

Swarming like vultures.

"No, no, no—"

PEW!

A red beam scorched the ground inches from her feet.

"Run!"

They stumbled forward, slipping and sliding down the slope, snow flying in every direction.

The drones weaved between the trees, lasers flashing.

A tree trunk exploded behind them, splinters slicing through the air.

Ash cursed, ducking instinctively. "This is insane!"

"Keep moving!"

They barreled through the snow, zig-zagging to avoid the deadly beams.

Then—a clearing.

In the distance, the faint outline of a building.

The village.

Nana's heart leapt.

"We're close!"

But the drones were closing in.

Nana's mind raced. No bullets. No weapons.

Think, think, THINK!

Her eyes locked on a low-hanging branch, thick with snow.

"Cover me!" she shouted, sprinting toward it.

Dante gawked. "WITH WHAT?!"

Ignoring him, Nana leapt, grabbing the branch and yanking it down with all her strength.

The built-up snow above dumped in a heavy avalanche.

The first drone didn't stand a chance.

CRASH!

Metal and snow exploded in the air.

The others veered wildly, trying to dodge.

Nana didn't wait. "Go!"

They sprinted again, breath ragged, limbs aching.

The village was close now.

But something was wrong.

Smoke.

The air was thick with it.

As they stumbled into the outskirts, Nana's stomach dropped.

The village…

Burning.

Mechanical bodies, scorched and shattered, lay scattered in the snow.

The once-hidden sanctuary was nothing but smoldering ruins.

"No…"

Her knees buckled for a moment.

Dante's face was pale. "What… did this?"

Nana's fists clenched.

Not what.

Who.

A sharp crack echoed in the distance—boots on snow.

They weren't alone.

Figures emerged from the smoke.

Soldiers.

Black uniforms.

The insignia on their shoulders—twisted and cruel.

"Target located," one of them barked into a comm.

Nana's breath hitched.

They weren't here for the village.

They were here for her.

"Stay behind me," Nana growled.

Ash didn't argue.

The soldiers raised their weapons.

Nana raised her fists.

The snow around them seemed to freeze in place.

Then—

Chaos erupted.

Nana's eyes darted around as the soldiers closed in, the cold seeping deep into her bones, but her mind was racing faster than her heart. She needed something—anything—to turn the tide.

Dante stood beside her, but his posture was tense, his eyes flickering nervously from one soldier to the next. Nana could see the uncertainty in him. He had no idea what they were up against. But she did.

Think, Nana, think!

Her gaze locked on Dante's back.

The button.

The one she had pressed before—the one that had triggered his transformation earlier. If she could do that again, she might stand a chance.

"Dante!"

He looked at her, confused.

She didn't give him time to react. With lightning speed, she reached behind him, her fingers finding the familiar ridge where the button was hidden.

His body stiffened as her hand closed around it. "What are you—?"

She didn't waste time explaining. She pressed the button.

For a second, nothing happened. Then—

A loud click echoed through the air, and a surge of energy rippled through Dante's body. His form shimmered, shifting, morphing. The soldiers paused, confusion flickering in their eyes.

Dante's body twisted, contorted like it was being pulled apart, then reassembled. His face melted, replaced by something new. Something mechanical. Something… unstoppable.

The transformation wasn't smooth—there were jerky movements, like gears grinding against each other, but it worked. He was no longer the man she had known. He was… something else entirely.

A machine.

His eyes, glowing red now, turned toward the soldiers with a terrifying coldness.

"You're welcome," Nana muttered under her breath, stepping back just in time as Ash's body finished shifting into his new form.

The soldiers stood frozen, unsure of what they were seeing.

Then Ash moved.

It was fast. Too fast. His mechanical limbs whirred as he shot forward, his hands transforming into sharp, bladed instruments. One soldier didn't even have time to raise his weapon before Dante sliced through his gun with a single swipe.

"Holy—!"

The soldiers scrambled, shouting, trying to retreat, but Ash was on them.

He didn't hesitate.

He destroyed them.

One by one, they fell, the sound of shattering metal and sparking circuits filling the air.

Nana watched, wide-eyed. The power was unimaginable. The grace. The violence. Ash was a machine of war, a creation of the very forces that had torn her life apart.

And now, he was their weapon.

He turned to Nana, his red eyes glowing eerily in the dim light. "What now?"

For a moment, she didn't answer. The chaos around her had dulled, but the weight of what they had done lingered.

"We run," she said finally, her voice low. "We keep moving. And we find the answers."

She didn't wait for his response. She turned, her feet crunching through the snow, heading toward the smoking ruins of the village.

As Nana and Dante ran through the snow, their breath heavy in the bitter cold, a screech of tires broke through the chaos. The sudden sound sent a jolt through Nana, her heart leaping into her throat. She whipped around, her mind racing, thinking they were about to be cornered again.

A sleek black car skidded to a halt in front of them, the headlights blinding in the darkness of the night. The engine purred for a moment before cutting off, and the car door swung open.

Nana's instincts screamed at her to flee, but she froze when she saw who stepped out.

Linda.

She was dressed in a dark, expensive coat, her face eerily calm as she stood in the middle of the road, watching them.

Dante tensed beside Nana, his mechanical form still glowing faintly, like a predator sensing its prey.

"Linda…" Nana's voice was tight with disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

Linda tilted her head slightly, as if she hadn't just witnessed everything that had just happened. "You've been running for so long, Nana. You thought you could escape it?" Her voice was smooth, almost too calm. "You can't outrun what's already been set in motion."

Nana clenched her fists. She could feel the familiar tension creeping up her spine, the dread of having her past catch up with her. "You're with them, aren't you?"

Linda didn't answer at first. Instead, she reached into the car, pulling out a small, silver device. She pressed a button, and a low hum filled the air. The ground beneath them vibrated as the car seemed to shift, its engine roaring back to life, as though something inside had come to life too.

Dante narrowed his eyes. "What is that?"

Linda's lips curled into a half-smile. "A little gift. For you, Nana. And for your friend here."

Before either of them could react, the ground beneath their feet shook violently. A loud crack echoed through the air, followed by the sound of machinery whirring.

The world around them seemed to distort, as if the very earth was responding to the signal Linda had triggered. From the shadows, dark figures began to emerge—mechanical soldiers, their eyes glowing a bright, unsettling red.

"We have no time for games anymore," Linda continued, her voice soft but filled with the weight of an inevitable truth. "You're either with me, or against me."

Nana took a step back, her mind racing. She had to think fast. She glanced at Ash, who was already calculating their options.

"Move," Nana snapped.

Before Linda could react, she grabbed Ash's arm, and they bolted toward the trees. The mechanical soldiers surged forward, but the snowstorm was on their side. The heavy winds slowed their pursuers just enough.

Nana didn't dare look back, but she knew Linda would be close behind, her plans unraveling as the chase continued.

As Linda stood in the center of the wreckage, her breath coming in shallow, frustrated bursts, she could feel the weight of failure pressing against her chest. The once-pristine plans she had crafted, the intricate systems, the legacies of people she had manipulated—everything was unraveling.

"Nana," she spat under her breath, her voice sharp with venom. "You've destroyed everything."

She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she paced back and forth. "You made sure no one would glorify me. Not my inventions. Not my ideas. Not my name. You made sure I was nothing."

She stopped and looked around, her eyes hard with fury. "I created all this. I made the world what it is today, and yet, in the blink of an eye, you destroyed it. You took away my legacy, Nana. You turned everyone against me. You made them believe I was a failure. A mistake."

Linda's hands trembled, but not with fear—no, it was with pure rage. "No one wants my inventions. No one wants to use my ideas. The government won't even mention my name in public anymore. Everything I worked for is in ruins because of you."

The storm raged around her, the winds whipping at her hair, as she gazed out into the distance, lost in thought.

"You've turned the world against me, Nana." Her voice dropped to a low, dangerous whisper. "You've taken my future, my legacy… And now, no one will ever bow to me again. Not like they were supposed to."

She turned her gaze to the empty, snow-covered village, the remnants of her designs scattered in the ruins. "I was supposed to be remembered. I was supposed to be the one who shaped the future. And now, because of you, I'll be nothing but a forgotten name."

Her eyes flared with madness. "I will make the world see me again. I'll make them use my ideas. They will worship me. They will remember who I am. Because I will make them remember."

She gritted her teeth, the corners of her mouth twitching with twisted resolve. "And it's all because of you, Nana. All because of you."

Linda's gaze hardened, and she began walking, her steps purposeful. "I'll fix this. I'll make sure the world remembers what it owes to me."

Her footsteps echoed in the emptiness, as the storm continued to howl in the distance, her wrath building like the thunderclouds above.

Nana's figure materialized from the shadows behind Linda, her presence like a ghost in the storm, cold and unyielding. The gun was steady in her hand, the barrel gleaming ominously as she aimed it with deadly precision.

Linda stiffened, sensing the shift in the air, but before she could react, Nana's voice sliced through the tension like a blade.

"Is that so?" Nana's tone was calm, chillingly detached, as though the words themselves were simply an observation—nothing more.

Before Linda could turn around, before she could even comprehend what was happening, Nana's finger tightened on the trigger. The gunshot rang out, sharp and final, cutting through the storm's roar. The sound echoed in the empty space like the toll of a bell.

Linda's body jolted as the bullet struck her head, her expression frozen in shock, the realization of her own defeat flashing across her face. For a moment, she stood there, suspended in time, before collapsing forward into the snow, her body crumpling like a discarded ragdoll.

Nana stood over her, unwavering. The gun still in her hand, her face an emotionless mask, as the storm raged around them, the winds howling louder in the aftermath of the chaos.