Chapter: Hanged Man

San's sleep was a battleground. Flames devoured his childhood home again, his mother's screams echoing as the masked figure from the void loomed over him. "You can't outrun what you are," it hissed, its mirrored face reflecting San's bloodied hands. He woke drenched in sweat, the sterile scent of antiseptic replaced by the faint aroma of coffee and old paper. Sunlight filtered through moth-eaten curtains in the Vasquez living room, where he'd collapsed on the couch.

"Rough night?" Mia leaned against the doorway, holding two steaming mugs. Her hair was tousled, her smirk softer than the neon-edged defiance she'd shown hours earlier.

San sat up, wincing as his bandages pulled taut. "You could say that."

She handed him a mug. "Black, no sugar. Figured you'd need it."

He sipped, the bitterness grounding him. "Thanks."

Mia perched on the armrest, studying him. "Leo says you're fighting the Syndicate. That true?"

"Trying to." San's grip tightened on the mug. "They're not exactly handing out invitations."

"Good." Her voice hardened. "They took my dad."

San froze. Leo had never mentioned

"Three years ago," she continued, staring into her coffee. "He was a mechanic. Fixed up Awakener tech on the side. Syndicate wanted his shop. He refused." She traced the rim of her mug. "They made it look like a gate accident."

Before San could respond, Leo stumbled in, yawning. "Since when do you two have cozy coffee dates?"

Mia rolled her eyes. "Since you sleep like a corpse. Mom's at the clinic. We've got the house."

Leo dropped onto the couch, eyeing San. "System still giving you hell?"

San's gaze flicked to the translucent screen only he could see:

[System Update: Case Progression - Drakar Salin]

Status: Resolved (???) | Pending Review

New Objective: Investigate the Black Syndicate's Involvement

New Evidence Unlocked: The Awakening Enhancement Ring (Stored in Inventory)

San exhaled, rubbing his temples. The screen pulsed faintly before vanishing. The system never gave him a straight answer, only cryptic hints wrapped in bureaucratic vagueness. Resolved, but pending? That meant the case had concluded, but not in the way he wanted.

Before he could dwell on it, Leo's phone buzzed. He swiped the screen, and whatever he saw drained the grogginess from his face. "You need to see this," he muttered, turning the screen toward San and Mia.

The headline burned into San's mind like a fresh wound.

"DRAMATIC SUICIDE OR EXECUTION? AWAKENER DRAKAR SALIN FOUND HANGED IN HIS CELL."

San's grip on the mug tightened until the ceramic threatened to crack. The attached photo showed Salin's limp body dangling from the ceiling of his holding cell, a tattered bedsheet wrapped around his neck. His face was untouched but his eyes were missing.

A cold dread settled in San's gut.

This wasn't a suicide. This was an extraction.

__________

The Holding Cells – Two Hours Earlier

Drakar Salin sat in the dimly lit cell, staring at the cold stone wall. The flickering light above him buzzed like an insect caught in a web. He should've been terrified, but all he felt was numbness.

He could still feel the ring's phantom weight on his finger, even though they had taken it. The surge of power, the raw dominance it had been ripped away. Now, he was nothing but a broken beast waiting to be put down.

A whisper slithered through the silence.

"Drakar..."

His head snapped up. The cell was empty. The guards weren't due for another hour.

"Did you think we'd let you rot in here?"

The voice coiled around him, thick with amusement. It was them. The Black Syndicate.

He pressed himself against the wall, his pulse hammering. "You can't be here," he hissed. "Not in this place."

A shadow detached from the corner, stepping into the weak light. The figure wore a sleek, obsidian mask expressionless except for the cruel tilt of its mouth. An Executor.

Drakar swallowed. "I didn't talk. I swear ..."

A blade flashed.

He never saw the strike, only the warmth of blood trickling down his cheek. The Executor moved like liquid shadow, pressing a gloved hand to Salin's forehead.

"The ring was a gift. You failed us."

Something cold stabbed into Salin's skull, pain igniting like wildfire. He gasped, thrashing as invisible claws tore through his mind. They weren't just killing him they were taking something.

His body convulsed as his vision blurred. A sickening squelch filled the room. He barely registered the sensation of his own eyes being removed.

"No loose ends," the Executor murmured.

Darkness swallowed him whole.

City Morgue – Later That Night

San stood over the lifeless body of Drakar Salin, the harsh fluorescent light casting jagged shadows across the room. The corpse lay stiff on the slab, a hollow shell. His empty eye sockets stared into nothingness, dried blood crusted around them like an unfinished ritual.

This wasn't a simple execution. This was an extraction.

Leo stood beside him, arms crossed. "They made sure he couldn't tell us anything."

San clenched his fists. "No. They made sure we knew exactly who did this."

Leo swallowed. "So what now?"

San exhaled sharply. The Syndicate wasn't just cleaning up loose ends they were making a move. The ring, the experiments, the executions this was bigger than one rogue Awakener.

He turned toward the door, his voice a low growl. "Now? We find out what the hell they're planning."

And we burn them down.