REBIRTH PROTOCOL
Chapter 2: Ruins of the Past
A World in Ruins
The massive steel doors groaned as they slid open, revealing a world Zephyr Cain barely recognized. He took a cautious step forward, his boots crunching against cracked concrete. The cold air stung his face, thick with the scent of rust, decay, and something unnatural.
Before him stretched what remained of his city—a place that once pulsed with neon light and technological marvels, now reduced to a corpse of steel and glass.
Towering skyscrapers lay in ruin, their skeletal frames jutting out like the ribs of a long-dead beast. The roads were cracked and split apart, overgrown with creeping vines and pools of stagnant water that reflected the blood-red hues of the storm-heavy sky.
Zephyr inhaled deeply. This city had once been his masterpiece, the pinnacle of human advancement. Now, it was a graveyard, a world stripped of its former glory.
His cybernetic HUD flickered to life, scanning his environment. Data scrolled across his vision:
Radiation levels: Minimal Oxygen quality: Poor but breathable Structural stability: 36% risk of collapse Lifeforms detected: Unknown
That last reading made his stomach tighten.
A moment later, heat signatures flared on his display—scattered movements among the rubble. Not human. Not predictable.
Zephyr's grip on his plasma sidearm tightened.
This world didn't belong to him anymore.
And he wasn't alone in it.
The First Threat
Zephyr moved swiftly and silently through the deserted streets, his cybernetic limbs adjusting to the uneven terrain.
He spotted a half-collapsed NovaCorp supply outpost ahead. If anything inside was still functional, it could hold answers—or weapons.
As he approached, a sound cut through the silence.
A low, guttural growl.
Zephyr froze.
His HUD registered movement—twenty meters to his left.
A shadow shifted behind a rusted-out vehicle. Something large. Something breathing.
Then, it stepped into view.
The Mutant
It had once been human—probably. But now, it was a twisted abomination of flesh and decay. Its right arm was grotesquely oversized, fingers curled into jagged claws. The left side of its body looked melted, skin fused with scraps of tattered clothing.
Its eyes locked onto Zephyr—hollow, hungry, and filled with mindless rage.
Then it charged.
Zephyr reacted instantly, his enhanced reflexes kicking in. He dodged left, rolling behind a shattered street pillar as the mutant slammed into the ground where he had stood moments ago.
Concrete exploded on impact.
Fast. Too fast.
Zephyr pivoted, raised his plasma pistol, and fired.
A bolt of searing blue energy struck the mutant's chest. It staggered—but didn't fall.
His tactical HUD recalibrated.
Vital organs compromised. Threat level: High. Primary weakness: Base of skull.
The mutant roared, lunging again.
Zephyr moved in a blur of precision, twisting his body mid-air. His cybernetic arm locked onto the target, adjusting for the perfect shot.
He fired.
The plasma bolt tore through the back of its skull.
The mutant convulsed violently, then collapsed in a twitching heap.
The air filled with the stench of scorched flesh and ozone.
Zephyr remained motionless for a moment, scanning for more threats.
Nothing.
Not yet, at least.
He exhaled.
This world wasn't his anymore.
And he wasn't the only one fighting for it.
The NovaCorp Ruins
Pushing forward, Zephyr reached the supply outpost and forced the rusted service hatch open. He slipped inside, his cybernetic eye adjusting to the darkness.
The facility was partially intact. Dim, flickering emergency lights cast eerie shadows along the walls. If there was still power, there was still data.
Zephyr approached the main terminal, brushing dust from the interface. He placed his hand against the biometric scanner—a faint hum signaled a weak but functional system.
His neural link synchronized with the database, and lines of code flooded his vision.
Then he saw it—
"Project Rebirth - Contingency Plan Status: INCOMPLETE""Cryosleep Pods Activated: 6/10""Survivors Detected: UNKNOWN"
Zephyr's stomach twisted.
The Awakening of Others
Six.
Six others had awakened. Like him.
But who were they?
Former allies? Rivals? Scientists? Mercenaries?
People who had once stood beside him… or tried to kill him?
Four pods remained unaccounted for. Were they dead? Or still trapped in cryosleep?
His thoughts were interrupted by a new alert.
"Signal detected. Incoming transmission."
Zephyr's pulse quickened.
The screen flickered, and then—
A voice crackled through the speakers.
"NovaCorp's king has returned."
Zephyr stiffened.
Who was this?
The voice continued, smooth and calculating.
"But tell me, Zephyr—are you here to rebuild, or to conquer?"
Then—silence.
The transmission cut out before he could respond.
Zephyr clenched his jaw.
Someone knew he was awake. Someone had been waiting for him.
He exhaled slowly, forcing his mind to focus.
This wasteland was not empty.
And the real game had just begun.