A Mysterious Past That Condemns Those Who Pretend to Forget
Smith was initially surprised that no one else had noticed this before. Mr. Lynch had called Alfred "Sir" several times, and the same went for Hans, who called him "Friend," but never by any name or surname...
— Hey!
— Mr. Smith?
— This could be a trap! Stay alert! Don't relax!
— Sir, why the sudden concern? — Alfred asked.
— Didn't you notice that he never called you by name?
— Now that you mention it, Sir... He really didn't ask for anyone's name, nor did he even call Alfred by his fake last name.
— H.K., I'm not talking to you!
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— Mr. Smith, perhaps it would be wise for us to prepare, then. I noticed that he spoke strangely and threateningly when he said the boss was coming...
Suddenly, Alfred was interrupted as the door they had entered through swung open.
A shadowy figure emerged from the darkness. Curiously, everything outside was pitch black.
It was still raining.
— I see you've all made yourselves comfortable.
Alfred stood up from the couch where he had been sitting and went straight to hug Hans.
SMACK!
Alfred was slapped on the left side of his face. It hurt more than he could have imagined, given that Hans was wearing a silver ring.
— DON'T TOUCH ME! Mr. Alfred Belfort… Isn't that right?
Alfred's face took on an expression of fear and anguish, a terror seizing the gentleman.
The group immediately stood up and gathered in the room, all drawing plasma weapons—ones they had opportunely purchased while heading to the Kontinental.
— I knew it! Close ranks, he could do anything. At the slightest move, kill him!
The whole group nodded.
— Alfred, don't move! — Smith shouted.
Hans began taking slow steps toward Alfred, who instinctively stepped backward in sync—fear and anger warring within him.
WHINING!
WHINING!
WHINING!
POW!
POW!
WHINING!
Chaos erupted in the room. Smith fired at Hans, and at the same instant, Hans shielded himself with the overcoat he was wearing. Apparently, it was one of the garments reserved for VIP clients of the Kontinental—outfits with various versions, ranging from bulletproof and plasma-resistant technology to the most expensive laser-resistant ones.
At that moment, a firearm emerged from the corner of the wall where the bookshelf stood.
It fired three shots—one at Smith and two at Shawn, who shielded the old man. It seemed that Smith and Alfred were the primary targets.
Alfred drew his weapon, but Hans fired first—straight at his head.
Alfred collapsed to the ground, bleeding immediately. And then, the floor beneath the group gave way.
They fell into a void.
Everything happened so fast...
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2099, Antiqua Tellus. April 12.
— Smith, come on, man. I want to get the money...
— Hans! Shut your mouth, you wretch. I have to carry this alone.
They were in an abandoned city. Hans was covered in blood, and Smith was dragging what appeared to be a dead body.
— This is your fault, Smith! You should never have pulled a Vincent Vega and shot the guy in the head. We were supposed to bring him in alive. Now we're the ones who are going to die!
— Shut up!
— And on top of that, you shot me from behind. Now I'm drenched in innocent blood...
— SHUT UP, YOU MISERABLE FOOL!
Smith dropped the body on the ground and strode toward Hans, who stood a few meters away.
— I'm done with you! Now you die! And it won't be an accident!
Both drew their guns and fired at each other.
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The group fell at an incredible speed. The fall lasted only about two seconds.
They landed on a hard surface. The place was completely enclosed, with iron walls of immeasurable thickness.
Smith flew into a rage, punching the ground while still lying there. The force of the blow tore the skin on his hand instantly. He stared at the blood dripping onto the smooth, chrome floor, reflecting back at him.
Shawn was in the worst condition. He was severely wounded from the bullet shot.
H.K. was anxious, frantically searching for a way out.
Burton and Harvey were paralyzed in shock, sitting against the wall, their backs pressed against the cold surface.
Heinrich was helping Shawn, taking off his shirt to tend to the wound.
The group had also just realized that the holographic disguise devices of Heinrich, Shawn, Smith, and H.K. had shut down. They were momentarily surprised to see those familiar faces again. The others deactivated their devices and removed them from their throats.
Smith stood up, growing even more agitated when he realized there was no apparent way out of the cubicle. He began to frantically feel around for an exit, stumbling into H.K.
— Screw you, kid!
H.K. punched Smith in the face, only to enrage him further. Smith lashed out, venting nearly all of his fury on H.K., knocking him unconscious.
Smith let out a deafening scream.
— AHHHHH!!!!!
The group was shattered. They felt deceived, questioning: How could this have happened?
Their minds were in chaos, unable to process anything. They felt watched—Hans was observing them from somewhere.
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2099, Antiqua Tellus. April 11.
— Hans!
— What?
— We need to be careful—this area is radioactive...
— You think I don't know that? Stop treating me like I'm an idiot!
— Then stop acting like a child! Let's go! Get in the car...
— You're too old to be bossing me around!
The two got into an old car—an SUV from the 2020s.
— This was all you could afford, old man?
— Shut up! It was free, and it was one of the best of its time.
— I doubt it! A rusty junk heap made to scam customers.
— SHUT UP!
Smith started the car and drove off.
The place was utterly devastated. The setting was apocalyptic. Small piles of debris and garbage were scattered everywhere. The stench in the air was unbearable.
There were no buildings in sight, only a vast wasteland of wreckage—remnants of what had once been great structures, either homes or skyscrapers.
The two remained silent in the car… Smith focused on the road, carefully avoiding anything that might puncture a tire, while Hans stared melancholically out the window, taking in the cruel landscape.
A portrait of destruction itself. A testament to the evil humanity had inflicted upon itself. There was no right side in the world anymore. It was every man for himself. People did whatever it took to survive.
Life, no matter how decayed, still mattered.
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Suddenly, a screen emerged from one of the iron walls. A holographic display.
The moment two men appeared on the screen, Smith's face twisted into a mix of panic and shock. His eyes widened as if he had seen a ghost.
On the display, the menacing figures of Taejun and Hans stared back at them.
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