Chapter 3 Into the Unknown

The wail of sirens filled the air—police, ambulance, all blending into the chaotic aftermath.

Sergeant May sat inside the ambulance, a thin blanket draped over her shoulders. The world outside was a blur of flashing lights and distant voices, but she barely noticed. Her mind was stuck in a loop, replaying every moment. Every shot. Every scream.

Inspector Lee stood before her, notepad in hand, his pen moving swiftly.

"Is that everything, Sergeant?" His voice was calm, almost detached.

May exhaled, her grip tightening around the edges of the blanket. "Yeah... that's all."

Lee studied her for a moment, then his phone rang. He answered without hesitation.

A voice on the other end spoke. "So, Inspector. Did you get everything we need?"

A slow, knowing smile crept onto Lee's face. "Yeah, Director. I got everything."

The line went silent for a beat. Then—

"Good."

A Few Days Later

"Aim—fire!"

A synchronized volley of rifle shots cut through the crisp morning air.

The honor guard stood solemnly, their rifles lowering in unison. Officer Mary's casket lay before them, draped in the department's flag. Mourners whispered among themselves, their grief a quiet weight on the wind.

Sergeant May stood among them, but the air around her felt heavy. Not just with sorrow, but something else.

Stares.

She could feel them. The weight of Mary's family's eyes on her back, filled with unspoken questions. Accusations.

Then—

"Mommy is sleeping."

A small voice.

May turned.

A little girl stood before her, clutching a stuffed bear. Her eyes, wide and hopeful, searched May's face for reassurance.

The words hit harder than any bullet.

May swallowed, forcing a smile. "Yeah… she's sleeping."

Tears welled in the girl's eyes, and before May could stop herself, she pulled her close, holding her tight.

The service ended. One by one, people faded into the background. The casket was lowered. Mary was gone.

May turned to leave—

And froze.

A chill ran down her spine.

A presence.

Something—or someone—was watching her.

Then, a whisper, close to her ear.

"If you want the truth, come to District 2. Warehouse 5. The port."

Her breath hitched. She spun around—

Nothing.

Her fingers twitched toward her holster, but there was no one. Just empty space.

Her car was waiting. She slid inside, hands gripping the steering wheel.

She had a choice.

Her foot pressed down.

The engine roared to life.

She made her decision.

The docks were quiet. Too quiet.

Only the distant sound of water slapping against rusted metal filled the night.

May parked at a distance, eyes scanning the surroundings. Nothing but warehouses, stacked containers, and the occasional flickering street lamp.

Her fingers brushed the cold steel of her gun as she stepped out.

She moved forward, boots crunching against gravel.

"One… two… three… four…"

She stopped.

"Five."

The warehouse loomed ahead.

Gun drawn, she pushed the door open.

Hinges groaned.

Darkness. Silence.

The space was empty. Dust floated in the dim glow of a single overhead light.

Her grip on the weapon tightened.

A setup? A wild goose chase?

Then—something.

A symbol.

Painted behind the door, barely visible in the shadows.

A world encased in a shield.

She stepped closer—

BANG!

The warehouse door slammed shut.

A force crashed into her from behind.

Pain exploded in her skull.

Her vision blurred.

Figures in tactical gear loomed over her, faces hidden behind masks. The same emblem—a world with a shield—marked their uniforms.

The world faded to black.

A dull, throbbing ache pulled her back to consciousness.

White walls. A metal table. A single door.

Her gun was gone.

She sat in a chair, unrestrained but watched.

The door clicked open.

A woman entered. Mid-thirties. Sharp features. A sleek black suit. She carried a briefcase, setting it down before folding her hands neatly.

She studied May for a moment before speaking.

"I am Dr. Lynn of Sector 5, UNC. Beginning interrogation of the person of interest."

Her tone was smooth. Practiced.

"As I said, I am Miss Lynn. Now, let's start." She tilted her head slightly. "What were you doing in that warehouse, Sergeant?"

May's eyes met hers, unwavering.

"I was looking for the truth."

Lynn's pen moved across the paper, the scratch of ink the only sound in the room.

A knock at the door.

A guard entered, uniformed in the same tactical gear as those who had taken her. He handed Lynn a file, whispering something before stepping back.

Lynn skimmed through it, then looked up.

"Your background checks out. Sergeant May Hartmann. Your police record is… impressive."

Her expression remained unreadable.

"But let me ask again." She leaned in slightly. "Why were you really there?"

May didn't blink.

"I told you. I was looking for the truth."

Lynn exhaled lightly. "It also seems you have a connection to one Corporal Dante Alvarez."

May's brow furrowed.

"Corporal?"

Her heart skipped.

"What do you mean, corporal? Is he one of your men?"

Lynn's gaze didn't waver. "No. He is not one of ours."

The room felt colder.

May clenched her jaw. "Then… who are you people?"

A pause.

Lynn gave a small, polite smile.

"Sorry, Sergeant. That's classified."

She stood, closing her briefcase.

"Thank you for your time."

May shot up. "Hey, I'm not done here!"

Lynn ignored her, walking to the door.

"Wait a second—!"

The door shut.

Behind the one-way mirror, two figures watched the interrogation unfold.

One of them—a man in a gray suit—turned to Lynn as she entered.

"So… are you going to report her to the Director?"

Lynn smirked, setting her briefcase down.

"Of course."

She glanced back at the mirror, watching May through the glass.

"She seems… useful to our cause."

She turned away, the faintest smirk lingering on her lips.

"I'm sure the Director would be glad."