As Erion blends into the busy market area, the chase intensifies, with enemies closing in from all sides. Using his skill in evasion and a high-tech cloak device, he navigates through tight spaces, avoiding capture. But as time runs out, he finds himself in a lovers' park, desperate to escape. Just as he prepares to disappear into the crowd, his path crosses with a woman carrying a box, whose life is unknowingly tied to the same mission.
The door of the large delivery truck swung open with a heavy creak.
"Who sent the newbie?" Erion voice was calm, but the disappointment in his tone was palpable. It was the kind of disappointment that curled into the chest, making it hard to breathe. His icy blue eyes swept over the room, and no one dared meet his gaze.
Erion Macquiade Major General of the Grand Covenant Order for Zone 4: Y'Ruen.
At 26 years old, he had already commanded this zone for three years—years that had shaped him into a figure of respect, and fear, in equal measure.
Inside the truck, the usual cargo was nowhere to be found. Instead, four high-resolution monitors lined the walls, each one displaying a live feed from different corners of the city. They were connected to hidden cameras—discreet, well-positioned, all with the highest frame rates and crystal-clear resolution. Below the monitors, a row of knobs and switches glowed faintly, tended by two men at their stations. Behind them, three others spoke into microphones, their voices muted and sharp through the headset communications.
"I'll take full responsibility, Major," a petite man said, his voice full of regret. He bowed his head, the weight of failure pressing on his shoulders. "I didn't expect this simple operation to go this badly."
The man was the head captain of The Cloak—a covert division within the Grand Covenant Order, specializing in intelligence gathering and analysis. They didn't fight in the frontlines. Their battlefield was one of secrets, shadows, and surveillance. They tracked political movements, intercepted communications, and analyzed enemy military activities. Their work provided vital insights, shaping the strategic decisions of the Order. But the Cloak wasn't built for combat. It was never supposed to get this messy.
The mission had seemed simple enough: obtain intel on the location of the main office for a notorious drug syndicate. But for a new recruit, that was a task far too dangerous to handle alone. The enemy they were up against didn't hesitate to kill to protect their operations. It was a mistake that could cost lives. "I'll fix it, Major." The captain started toward the door, but Erion's hand shot out like lightning, gripping his shoulder firmly.
Erion didn't raise his voice, but there was an unmistakable authority in his words. "I'll deal with this. Give me the duplicate cloak. Rescue him from the rendezvous point."
The captain's eyes widened, but he quickly saluted. "Yes, Major!"
Without wasting another second, Erion turned on his heel and stormed out of the truck. The door slammed shut behind him with a finality that resonated through the air, leaving the rest in silence.
Y'RUEN'S MAIN STREET
"Can you hear me? Seven-two-one, cloak." Erion's voice cut through the silence as he pressed a small device into his left ear, his tone calm but purposeful.
CLOAK 721
"Ma-major General..." The voice crackled back, a young man's voice filled with fear and uncertainty. "I-I'm still running... they're still chasing me." The words were rushed, stammering, as the sound of hurried footsteps echoed in the background. Surrounded by a sea of pedestrians, the rookie knew he couldn't lose his pursuers in the crowded street.
"I'm sorry! It was my fault, I didn't mean to mess up... I never—" The young man's voice broke, his panic evident. Erion could hear it, but he was unmoved, his focus unwavering.
"Calm down," Erion interjected sharply, his voice slicing through the chaos of the street like a blade.
"Avoid the police. Stay in crowded areas. Blend in." His instructions were concise, firm—he didn't have time for hesitation. Erion's grip tightened on the cloak he'd just received from the head captain, and with a swift motion, he pulled it around his shoulders. "Yes, Major!" The voice on the other end trembled. The rookie's nervousness was palpable—not from the chase itself, but from speaking to the Major General. The young man, with his skinny frame, blond hair, and boyish face, couldn't seem to shake the weight of failure, even in the midst of the most critical moment of his life.
"Meet me at the market center," Erion commanded, his tone brokering no room for argument.
He wrapped the duplicate cloak tightly around himself. The fabric was dark, its hood deep and concealing. As he fastened it, the cloak began to shift—slowly at first, then with increasing speed.
The edges blurred, the details refined. The fabric took on an uncanny resemblance to the one worn by the rookie on the other end of the line. The cloak seemed to meld with his body, as if it were alive, reshaping him.
Within seconds, Erion's appearance had vanished. In place of the Major General stood a figure nearly identical to the rookie—his hair darkened and reshaped, his features altered, even his body language mimicked to perfection. Like a chameleon, Erion thought, blending in with the surroundings.
With the latest technology at their disposal, everything was possible. In mere moments, he'd erased all traces of his true identity.
"Once you see me, turn your cloak off," Erion instructed, his voice still commanding but more reassuring now.
"Affirmative, Major," came the reply from the other side.
Erion exhaled sharply, his eyes scanning the street. "Turn sub-zero on," he added, "It'll disable all your devices. There's a chance you're being tracked."
"Understood, Major."
"Head back to the rendezvous point," Erion continued. "I'll deal with them." His voice was unwavering, exuding the calm assurance of a man who had seen countless battles. "Yes, Major!" The rookie's voice, though still shaky, carried a sense of resolve now. With that, the call ended, and Erion moved swiftly, vanishing into the crowd as if he had never been there.
Market Center - 7 PM
Erion's plans never failed. Everyone who worked under him knew that. Whether it was a high-stakes operation or a last-minute escape, his success rate was flawless. His precision was unmatched.This will be the last step... he thought as his mind focused on the task ahead.
"Pardon!" A man in a dark blue jacket and black pants weaved through the bustling street, dodging pedestrians left and right. His crimson red hair and slim-framed glasses were barely visible beneath the face mask he wore.
"Coming through!" he called out again, just loud enough to grab attention, narrowly avoiding a collision with a child and her mother.
"Sorry!" he shouted, not looking back as he sped ahead.
"Watch it, young man!" the mother scolded, but her words were lost in the noise of the busy street.
"That's him!" A voice shouted from behind, cutting through the crowd.
They saw me. Good.
With a swift glance over his shoulder, Erion pushed forward, his legs carrying him in the opposite direction of the cloak member he had just rescued.
Five men in black suits were still hot on his trail, cutting through the crowd, their footsteps growing louder with each passing second. The streets of the market were alive with activity—families shopping, couples strolling, and groups of colleagues chatting. It was the perfect place to lose a tail.
I need to lure them away from him—give him time to get out.
Erion's crystal-blue eyes flashed in the night, the intensity of the chase clear in his gaze. He darted between people, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease, drawing just enough attention to keep the men following him.
"Stop, you!" one of the men shouted, but the throngs of people in the plaza made it difficult for them to close the gap.
Right on schedule.
He veered off into a less crowded section of the plaza, his mind calculating every move. He glanced down at his wristwatch—just a few more seconds to go.
"Two more minutes."
But as his eyes flicked back up, a new group of men in matching black suits came into view from the opposite end of the street, heading straight toward him.
I knew they were too few for this job.
Erion didn't hesitate. Rather than backtrack or try to outrun them, he slid sideways into an alley, his body twisting to fit through a narrow gap just wide enough to slip through. He pressed himself into the tight space, moving slowly and quietly, blending into the shadows.
Behind him, the footsteps of the men faltered. They paused, confused, unsure of where he had gone.
Come on now...
Erion smirked, his heart pumping with adrenaline. You've got to chase me for just a few more seconds.
Then, suddenly, the sound of running footsteps picked up again. They were back on his trail, more determined than before.
Just as I planned.
But then, something unexpected happened. At the end of the narrow alley, a solid brick wall blocked his path. Without missing a beat, Erion leaped upward, his hands grabbing the rough surface of the wall. His body propelled upward with ease—no hesitation, no effort.
As he reached the top, the rain hammered down, soaking him instantly. He glanced over his shoulder at the men who had now reached the alley, their frustration evident.
One of them raised a gun, aiming it at him.
"One minute!" Erion muttered to himself, the words barely audible over the sound of the rain. He jumped down from the wall, landing with a soft thud, then immediately broke into a sprint again. They're getting desperate.
"Thirty more seconds." He kept his pace steady, his eyes scanning his surroundings. He was now in a lovers' park, the kind of place where couples wandered hand in hand, too engrossed in their own world to notice the man running through their midst.
"I saw him run here!" One of the men shouted, just as he passed a group of laughing couples.
I just need to disappear... blend in.
Erion's heart raced, but his expression remained calm. As he ran through the park, he moved with the fluid grace of a predator in its element—silent, efficient, and nearly invisible. Looking around, he prepared his final disguise. 3... 2... 1...
Erion clicked the button, deactivating the cloak device. In an instant, his appearance shifted back to his usual attire: a black leather jacket, a gray shirt, dark-colored pants, and white sneakers. The sleek transformation erased the layers of deception, and once again, the true Erion Macquiade was revealed. His dark hair contrasted sharply with his cold, ocean-blue eyes, and his face, small and sharp, held a nonchalant expression—perfectly crafted for blending in.
Meanwhile, in the midst of the crowded market, a woman in an orange dress stood frozen, her eyes wide as she heard the sound of heavy footsteps splashing through the rain. A man was running toward her with unstoppable speed. The chaos of the market seemed to disappear, and all she could focus on was the approaching figure.
He looks serious and frightening, she thought, panic creeping up her spine.
She tried to move out of his way, but in her hasty attempt, the box in her hands slipped from her grasp and hit the ground with a loud thud. The sudden movement threw her off balance, and she felt herself falling.
Her heart raced, and in a split second, she closed her eyes.
I don't want to die.