Chapter 2. Project Striker

Chapter 2. Project Striker

Kai stepped out of the hospital room, now dressed in a crisp white tracksuit. The fabric felt foreign on his skin—he never imagined he'd ever wear their colors.

Natasha stood by the doorway, arms crossed, her sharp gaze hidden behind reflective shades. She didn't bother turning to face him fully.

"Follow me," she said flatly.

Kai hesitated, his feet refusing to move. Something about the entire situation felt wrong. Too clean. Too controlled.

"No," he said, his voice firm. "Not until you tell me what the hell is going on."

He had just been given a second chance—a rebirth. This time, he refused to let life slip through his fingers like before. He wasn't going to be pushed around. If he was alive, then there had to be a reason for it, a purpose.

Natasha let out a sigh, her expression unreadable behind her shades. Then, with a snap of her fingers, chains of pure silver light materialized out of thin air. They coiled around Kai's body like living serpents, wrapping around his arms and torso before yanking him into the air.

"What the—?!" Kai struggled, but the chains tightened, binding him in midair. His mouth was covered before he could curse.

Natasha scoffed, shaking her head. "I can't believe I was pulled from my vacation for this." She strode forward, and the chains followed, dragging Kai effortlessly behind her.

Kai was forced to float after her like a captured criminal. He couldn't control his body, couldn't speak, couldn't even fight back. The realization made his pulse quicken. His captor was strong— far stronger than him.

The walk through the facility was eerily quiet, save for the echo of Natasha's boots against the polished floor. They passed several doors, each marked with strange symbols and high-tech security locks. Whatever this place was, it wasn't a normal hospital.

Finally, they reached a massive steel door and entered into a huge room. Once inside Natasha flicked her fingers, and the chains holding Kai unraveled, sending him crashing onto the cold floor with a grunt.

"Ugh, damn bitch," Kai muttered under his breath as he picked himself up.

Natasha raised her foot, ready to stomp his head into the ground, but a low voice interrupted her.

"Enough."

The words carried a quiet authority that made her stop instantly.

Kai looked up to see a man sitting in the center of the room, lounging in a high-backed chair. His white hair was slicked back, and despite the elegant black suit and crimson tie he wore, there was something dangerous about him. He radiated an aura of quiet menace, like a wolf in the skin of a businessman.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "Natasha, I told you to bring him here gently. Where's your woman's touch?"

Natasha scoffed, clearly unbothered.

The man turned his gaze toward Kai, studying him carefully before speaking again.

"Mr. Nero, I trust my dear Natasha has filled you in on a few things?" He didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "Good. Then let's get to the important part. Tell me— who do you think we are?"

Kai frowned. The old man's presence was suffocating, his stare dissecting him like a specimen under a microscope.

He took a breath. "You're the Hero Organization, right? I mean, you work for them, don't you?"

The man let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

"No, boy. We operate under the Hero Organization, but we are not heroes—not in the way you think. But you do know the heroes organization is merely a business brand and not a real organisation."

With a snap of his fingers, the walls of the room shifted. In an instant, they became massive screens, displaying footage from battlefields all over the world. Heroes fighting villains. Buildings collapsing. Corpses littering the ground like discarded puppets. The sheer scale of destruction was staggering.

Kai's stomach twisted. This wasn't the kind of footage they showed on public news broadcasts.

The old man continued, his voice calm yet firm. "We are a secret agency of covert operatives that go by the name of Project Striker. Our purpose is to contain threats before they reach the public eye. Sometimes, that means dealing with villains. Other times… it means dealing with rogue heroes."

Kai's breath hitched. "Rogue heroes?"

The screens shifted again, displaying masked figures slaughtering civilians. Others showed heroes defecting, handing over classified information to criminals. One image showed a supposed 'hero' executing a captured enemy without hesitation.

The old man leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "The world sees heroes as beacons of justice. But in reality? They're just people. And people are unpredictable. Some go rogue. Some sell their powers to the highest bidder. When that happens, we take care of it. Quietly. Our organisation founded the heroes so it is outlr duty to contain them if need be."

Kai clenched his fists. He barely had time to process what he was seeing.

But none of this was his problem.

"Whatever you guys do isn't my concern," he said. "I'm not a hero. I have no powers. I'm useless to you."

The old man's expression darkened. "I'm afraid you don't have a choice, Mr. Nero."

Kai felt his chest tighten. "What do you mean?"

The man steepled his fingers. "While you were in a coma, we studied your body. At first, we found nothing. But when you woke up, something changed. Your cells started regenerating—just for a brief moment. We believe you were experimented on. That you have a latent healing ability. We don't know the extent of it yet or if it was something else."

Kai swallowed. "I don't get it. What does that have to do with me working for you?"

The old man smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "Think about it. Our operatives fight battles that aren't meant to be seen. Many don't come back. But if we had someone with healing abilities on our side… well, that would be invaluable."

Kai's mind raced. They wanted to use him. They didn't even know if he actually had powers, but they were willing to gamble on it.

He let out a dry laugh. "So what, I become some government lab rat? No thanks."

The old man's gaze sharpened. "It's not just about us, Mr. Nero. It's about your survival."

Kai stilled.

"The place where we found you was a secret lab. A lab owned by a powerful crime family. If they find out you survived, what do you think they'll do?" The man's smile faded. "You'll be back on their operating table before you even know what happened."

Kai felt cold all over.

"You're saying I'm a target," he murmured.

"Not just a target. A priority." The old man leaned back. "You can leave, of course. Walk right out that door. But understand this— out there, you're a loose end. In here, you have protection. Resources. A place to belong."

Kai exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his head. His options were… terrible. Either he stayed and became their pawn, or he left and got hunted down.

"Do I at least get paid?" he muttered.

The old man chuckled. "Of course. And no taxes."

Kai groaned. "I'm gonna regret this."

He had no idea just how right he was.

None of them realized just how much Kai was going to regret it. Because beneath the surface, something was changing within him— something neither he nor Project Striker fully understood yet.

And soon, he was going to be thrown into a world where survival was never guaranteed.