The hallway lights flickered faintly overhead as Riven handed in his request for a leave of absence. It was signed, sealed, and stamped with barely a word exchanged. No one questioned him—not even Cigar.
The silence said enough.
Two days.
That's all he needed.
Death Protocol might've decided not to sanction a hit on the rogue Executor, but Riven had his own justice to deal. Moses' death reminded him of his sister, Kira.
But someone else was watching.
From across the hall, Lucy leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her B-rank badge glowing faintly blue from her jacket lapel.
"Let me guess," she said, as Riven passed by. "You're going after him."
Riven paused.
"I need time to clear my head," he said flatly.
Lucy pushed off the wall. "Same. I'll come with you."
She knows.
The alley where Moses died still reeked of scorched metal and ash. The walls bore the faint traces of corrupted binary—lines of glowing glitches shimmering like broken neon across the concrete.
Riven crouched near the spot where the Moses had died. He pressed his palm to the ground, summoning a ripple of binary light that scanned the area.
Nothing.
Just echoes.
"You're not going to find anything here."
Riven looked up to see Lucy stepping out of the shadows, her boots crunching softly on broken glass.
"That bastard fire left no trail," she continued. "He's not a rookie"
"I wasn't just looking for him," Riven muttered. "I wanted to understand what he was."
Lucy looked at him quietly. "If this is about Moses…"
Riven's fist clenched. "Of course it's about Moses."
She sighed. "Then let's stop wasting time."
The bar was tucked in a grimy corner of the Bronx. No signs. No windows. Just a neon OPEN sign blinking with a dying pulse.
Inside, the air smelled of whiskey, oil, and secrets.
Lucy walked confidently to the back wall, tapping a rhythm on an old vending machine. A panel slid open with a click. Behind it—an elevator. They stepped in.
"Access code?" the machine's voice asked.
Lucy smirked. "Secrets."
The elevator buzzed downward into darkness.
At the bottom, they entered a room lit only by hanging bulbs and the faint flicker of blue monitors. At the center sat a hulking man with rich, dark skin, dreadlocks tied back, and cybernetic rings around his forearms. He looked up slowly.
"Olu," Lucy greeted, pulling down her hood.
The man cracked a smile. "Still dragging trouble behind you, eh?"
Riven kept silent.
"We need information," Lucy said. "We're looking for a rogue Executor. Uses corrupted binary fire."
Olu's expression hardened. "And why the hell would I help you with that?"
"Because he's already killed one of ours," Riven cut in.
Olu grunted. "Death Protocol's always bleeding."
"Please, Olu," Lucy added. "Just this once."
Silence.
Then Olu reached into a drawer and tossed a file onto the table.
"He's been using a warehouse in Queens as a safe house. But don't thank me yet. You're not ready for what you're about to face."
The warehouse stood like a tombstone against the skyline, wrapped in mist and humming with dormant power.
They entered silently, blades of binary forming in their hands—Riven's dull red, Lucy's sharp and glowing blue.
"Thanks for coming with me and showing me how to summon weapons" Riven said in a low voice.
Then—
He appeared.
A slim, shirtless man stood atop the upper catwalk. Muscular, sinewy, pale skin gleaming under the flickering lights. A plague-doctor mask covered his face.
"You shouldn't have come," he said. His voice echoed like distorted audio.
Binary flared around him. Blue fire—corrupted code, burning through steel like acid.
Riven charged first, blade whistling through the air. But the rogue moved like lightning, ducking under, spinning behind Riven, and sending him flying with a single kick.
Lucy's digital sword clashed with the rogue's flaming binary claws—blue vs blue, code vs corruption.
Riven stood up.
Rage exploded in his chest.
His blade burned brighter, system pulsing—
[SYSTEM LIMIT: PUSHED]
He struck again, faster, harder. Lucy backed him up, but even together, they could barely keep up. The rogue parried each blow with inhuman grace.
Then suddenly, the rogue leapt back, standing still.
"Stop," he said, holding out a hand.
Lucy hesitated.
Riven didn't.
He charged—only to have his blade caught mid-swing.
"I'm not your enemy," the rogue said.
Riven frozen.
"What the hell are you talking about? You killed Moses!"
"He was a casualty. Just like me. Just like you."
"What?"
The rogue removed his mask slowly.
He looked human—young, intense eyes, scar running down his jaw.
"You think this system is divine? That it chooses only the wicked to die?" He laughed. "No. It kills whoever they want dead."
"They?" Lucy asked, frowning.
"The ones who control Death Protocol. The ones who own the system. The ones above even your boss, Cigar. I used to believe it too. Until I found out the truth."
Riven's hand trembled. "What truth?"
"That we're tools. Assassins. Nothing more. They dress it up with words like 'judgment' and 'justice.' But the system doesn't care. It obeys its masters. Not morality."
He stared hard at them.
"You're dogs on a leash. Just like I was."
Lucy stepped forward. "Then why are you still using it?"
"To find the root. To tear it down. I don't know everything yet. But I know enough."
Riven's blade dimmed. His mind spun.
Was it true?
Could it be?
"What do you want?" he asked.
The rogue extended his hand.
"Not your death. You two seem like you could be useful. I need your help."
A pause.
"I'm Cipher."
Riven looked at the hand.
The system pulsed faintly.
He reached out—
And shook it.