⚫ Chapter 6: Shadows Can't Bleed... Can They?

🕯️ Verdale City – Abandoned Safehouse, 4:26 AM

The storm outside hadn't stopped. Thunder cracked the sky, wind rattled broken windows, and the old safehouse groaned like it was alive — like it knew what was coming.

Liana paced. Her boots echoed against the cold concrete floor. Her fingers tapped her holster, restless. Every instinct screamed the same thing:

"Run."

But there was nowhere left to run. Not from this.

Daniel sat at a dusty table, dismantling a rifle with the kind of precision that only came from years of hunting... or being hunted. His eyes darted toward Liana, following her like a shadow follows the sun.

— "You've been quiet," he muttered, slotting a magazine into place. "That's never a good sign."

Her jaw tightened.

— "I'm thinking."

Daniel scoffed.

— "No. You're spiraling."

She spun on him, fire flashing in her eyes.

— "My father... My father is alive, Daniel. And not just alive. He's Revenant. He's the goddamn architect of the Zero Syndicate."

Her voice cracked, but the fury drowned the tremor.

— "All these years… I thought I was fighting monsters. Turns out..." she slammed her fist onto the table, "...the worst one created me."

Silence.

Daniel set the rifle down carefully.

— "You don't have to do this alone."

She met his gaze. "Yes. I do." Then softer, bitter. "I always did."

---

⚠️ Suddenly—

A high-pitched beep echoed from the tablet. Motion detectors. Multiple signatures. Closing fast.

Daniel cursed.

— "How the hell did they find us?!"

Liana grabbed her weapons, already moving.

— "Specter. It has to be him. No one else tracks like this."

The tablet flickered, cycling through security cams—then glitched. Static. Black screen. "Signal Jammed."

Daniel's face drained of color.

— "Oh, hell... you don't jam signals unless you want someone isolated... and dead."

A faint sound. Metal scraping metal. Then... silence.

— "Did you hear that?" Daniel whispered.

Liana's voice was ice.

— "Yeah. It's him."

---

🔥 The Hunt Begins...

A shadow slipped past the window. A flicker of movement. A glint of something—metal, smooth, fast.

Daniel backed toward the stairwell.

— "Back exit. We move on my mark—"

BANG!

A concussive charge blew the rear door clean off its hinges. Smoke flooded in. Laser dots danced across the walls.

— "DOWN!" Liana roared, diving behind cover as suppressed gunfire shredded through the air.

Taktaktaktaktak!

Splinters. Dust. Sparks.

She peeked out. Three operatives—armored head-to-toe, tactical gear, red visors. Not mercs. Syndicate hunters. But where was—

— "Where's Specter?!" Daniel shouted.

Answer: He didn't need to show... not yet.

Let the grunts bleed first.

Liana moved like liquid shadow. Two shots—one in the throat, another in the eye socket. The first man dropped before his finger fully tightened on the trigger.

Daniel tackled the second, drove his knife under the ribcage—angled up—piercing the heart.

The third pulled a grenade—bad idea.

Liana's boot shattered his wrist. She yanked the pin, shoved it back into his vest, and kicked him backward.

BOOM.

The explosion shook the building.

Silence... for two seconds.

Then—clank... clank... clank...

Heavy boots. Measured steps.

A silhouette emerged from the smoke.

Specter.

Armor blacker than midnight. A skull mask glinting under broken light. No emotion. No breathing sound. Just... death.

His voice, modulated, distorted, and devoid of humanity:

— "Morgan."

Liana's heart pounded. She raised her gun—

CRACK. Too late.

A flashbang detonated at her feet. White light swallowed her vision. Her ears rang—nothing but static.

Pain. A heavy boot smashed into her ribs. She hit the wall, gasping.

Daniel fired wildly—click. Empty.

Specter didn't even flinch. He caught Daniel's wrist mid-swing, twisted—SNAP. Daniel's scream was muffled by the sheer force that followed; Specter slammed him face-first into the floor.

Liana blinked through the white haze. Her vision sharpened just in time to see Specter pull a knife, gliding toward her like a phantom.

— "Subject: Liana Morgan. Directive: Terminate."

"Like hell."

Her boot lashed out, knocking the blade aside. A punch followed—useless. His armor absorbed it like air. He countered, driving his fist into her stomach—blunt force like a battering ram.

She staggered back, blood in her mouth. He moved in—no wasted motion. Precise. Efficient. A knee to her ribs. Elbow to her jaw.

She collapsed—vision blurring—gasping.

Specter stood over her, knife raised—

— "Goodbye, Echo."

Then—BANG.

A sniper shot. Direct hit. Specter's head snapped sideways—but didn't fall. Armor plating.

A second shot—this one to the joint of his shoulder—cracked the plating. Sparks. He flinched.

A voice crackled over a radio:

— "MOVE, Liana! You've got ten seconds!"

She didn't question it. She rolled, grabbed Daniel's limp body, and sprinted toward the fire escape as another barrage of sniper rounds pinned Specter down.

Bullets sparked against walls, but Liana pushed through. Down the alley. Into the sewer entrance. Gone.

Specter stood, turning slowly toward the sniper's last location.

He whispered through the comms, mechanical, menacing:

— "Unknown hostile detected. Target acquired."

He walked into the shadows.

The hunt was far from over.

---

✔️ End of Chapter 6

🩸 Next Chapter Preview:

Dragged underground, wounded and hunted, Liana and Daniel face their most dangerous gamble yet: reaching an old contact who may hold the key to stopping Specter... but trusting him could be just as fatal. And in the shadows... her father watches.