The locker room is freezing.Metal floor plates sting bare feet. The lockers are old, dented, names scrawled in ten different languages, some long dead. Mine is the last one in the back. Still locked. Still humming with old blood.
I key it open.
The armor’s there—war black, matte finish, Redscale insignia worn smooth from too many battles. I brush my fingers along the chestplate. The old war markings are still there. Etched deep. A language of loss.
My hands move automatically—buckles, seals, synaptic gel. The rig hisses as it syncs to my biometrics. Pressure clamps. Neural ports light up. My breath slows as the system pings awake. It remembers me.
It rememberswhat I am.
I catch my reflection in the broken mirror across the room. What stares back isn’t Mr. Kuraken. Not the charming schoolteacher. Not the fool trying to wear peace like a borrowed suit.
I'm Jav Kuraken.
Warlord. Enforcer. Son of ruin.
And for the first time in months—I let him surface.
Garkin storms in.“You’re out of your mind.”
I keep strapping on gear. “Yup.”
“You just got cleared off a field table an hour ago. You got three fractured ribs, a torn quad, and mild neuroshock.”
“I’ve gone in with worse.”
“This isn’t a mission—it’s a death wish.”
I slide the plasma holster into place. The click is final.
He grips my arm. “You think Kairo would want this?”
My eyes meet his.
“This isn’t about whatshewants,” I say, voice low. “It’s about whattheydid.”
He swears under his breath. “You walk in there solo, they’ll use her and the boy as bait. You’ll die before you even reach them.”
“Maybe,” I say. “But not before I take every last one of those bastards with me.”
He steps back like I slapped him. The silence between us is thick with history. I see it in his face—the old fear. The memories of the man I used to be.
He thinks I’m gone again.
Maybe I am.
He reaches into his coat and pulls out a comms chip.
“Encrypted channel,” he mutters, dropping it in my palm. “Our drone picked up a thermal surge on the League’s fallback base. Off the Trenell ridge. Deep tunnel. Heavily shielded.”
“Good,” I say.
“Jav…” His voice cracks.
I look at him.
He nods, just once. “Burn them all.”
As I step into the dropship, rain slicks the armor plating. The storm’s getting heavier. The sky flashes with lightning behind the clouds.
