The room was dim, illuminated only by the cold glow of monitors lining the walls. Cassius sat at the center, his hands clasped tightly in front of him, his sharp eyes fixed on the data scrolling across one of the screens. Despite the stillness of the room, his mind was racing. Durante's words replayed over and over in his head: "Washu. Red hair, green eyes. Confident. Sharp. Curious."

Cassius leaned back in his chair, his jaw tightening. Of all people, Durante had to be the one to cross her path. For years, Majestic Twelve had tried to monitor her movements, along with the rest of the Masaki household. Every attempt had been thwarted—signals disrupted, operatives discovered, even advanced AI systems rendered useless. Washu Hakubi wasn't just another anomaly; she was a wild card, someone who could change the game entirely. And now she was engaging with Durante.

A soft chime broke through his thoughts. The monitor before him displayed the MJ-12 emblem, signaling an incoming transmission. Cassius straightened and pressed a button, bringing up a holographic image of one of the council members, their features partially obscured by shadows.

"Cassius," the council member began, their voice clipped and authoritative. "I've reviewed your preliminary report. Elaborate more on the Hakubi situation."

"It's worse than we expected," Cassius replied bluntly. "She's surfaced. Durante encountered her in what appears to be a chance meeting."

The council member's head tilted slightly; their tone skeptical. "Chance meeting? Impossible. That woman doesn't leave anything to chance. What's her angle?"

"That's what I intend to find out," Cassius said. "But there's more. She…" He hesitated, the words almost ridiculous even to him. "She kissed him. At his place."

The council member's pause was palpable, their voice sharpening with disbelief. "You're telling me that Washu Hakubi—a being we've been unable to even track properly—is now fraternizing with one of your operatives?"

"It's not that simple," Cassius said, his voice firm. "She's testing him. For what, I don't know yet, but I intend to find out. We need to escalate surveillance on Durante. Whatever she's doing, it's tied to him now."

The council member was silent for a moment before responding, their tone measured. "What about the Nero operation? Is it compromised? Can Durante be trusted to remain focused?"

"He's a professional and no it's not," Cassius said, though a flicker of doubt crossed his mind. "He told her nothing of the operation as far as I can tell. But Hakubi's involvement complicates things. If she interferes…"

"Interference isn't something we can handle lightly," the council member said sharply. "Hakubi isn't a threat we can confront head-on, and you know it. She operates on a level beyond anything we've dealt with. Keep her contained. Distracted, if possible. But above all, do not antagonize her."

Cassius's expression hardened. "Understood. But you and I both know keeping Washu Hakubi contained is easier said than done."

"Then focus on Durante," the council member said. "If she's taken an interest in him, use that to our advantage. Learn everything we can through him. And Cassius, don't underestimate her. We've made that mistake before."

The transmission ended abruptly, leaving Cassius alone once more. He exhaled sharply, his gaze returning to the monitors. He needed answers, and he needed them fast.

Back in his apartment, Durante stood in silence, staring at the paper map spread out on the small table. His fingers traced the route to MCAS Iwakuni, calculating the time it would take to get there. The cool, quiet night outside pressed against the windows, wrapping the moment in stillness. His mind wandered briefly to Washu's teasing smirk, her piercing green eyes, and the way she had looked at him—as though she already knew more about him than she was letting on.

He shook his head and muttered under his breath. "Focus."

Washu, observing through her micro-drones, tilted her head as she watched him study the map. "A paper map? Really?" she said softly, her tone carrying a mix of amusement and curiosity. "Who even uses those anymore? Old-fashioned, but thorough… interesting."

He checked his watch, noting the time before folding the map with practiced precision and slipping it into his jacket pocket. Grabbing his keys from the table, he headed out, locking the door behind him. The cool night air greeted him as he approached the small, weathered pickup truck. It was beat to hell, sure, but it was cheap, reliable, and inconspicuous. Sliding into the driver's seat, Durante turned the key slightly to power the radio and tuned it to a station playing soft blues and jazz. The low, soulful melodies filled the cabin as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one with his zippo lighter. The small flame briefly illuminated his rugged features as he inhaled deeply.

The engine growled to life as Durante shifted into gear and pulled onto the quiet street. For the first leg of the drive, his mind remained sharp, focused on the mission ahead. The familiar tones of the blues accompanied the rhythm of the road, blending into a calming background. But as the journey continued, his thoughts began to stray. Washu's image crept into his mind unbidden—her sharp wit, her confidence, and the way her vibrant green eyes seemed to peel back layers he had long kept hidden.

He exhaled a plume of smoke, chuckling softly to himself. "Damn broad's still on my mind. Cute, though."

Back in her lab, Washu froze for a moment as his voice came through the audio feed. Her eyes narrowed, though her lips curved into a faint smirk. "A cute broad? Really? That's the best you've got?" she muttered, leaning back in her chair. "You're lucky I'm in a generous mood tonight, Durante."

The truck continued its steady pace down the winding roads, the countryside giving way to distant city lights. Durante's thoughts shifted again as the name Nero surfaced in his mind. The memories came unbidden—a crowded amphitheater, the acrid smell of burning wood, and Nero's laughter echoing through the corridors of power. Durante sighed deeply, the weight of history pressing heavily on his shoulders. "Almost 3,000 years," he murmured, his voice low. "And Nero… still the same smug, manipulative bastard."

Washu perked up at his words, leaning closer to her monitor. "Almost 3,000 years?" she repeated softly, her curiosity intensifying. "Just who are you, Durante?"

After a few hours, the lights of MCAS Iwakuni eventually came into view, and Durante's focus sharpened. The base was alive with activity, the hum of aircraft engines and the buzz of personnel creating a familiar backdrop. He approached the security checkpoint, handing over his ID with practiced ease. The guard waved him through after a quick inspection, and Durante drove toward the designated parking area.

Shutting off the engine, he stepped out of the truck, taking a deep breath of the crisp night air. His mind was clear now, every thought centered on the mission ahead. The stakes were high, and there was no room for distraction.

Meanwhile, back in her lab after setting her drones to passive monitoring once she got bored watching Durante drive, Washu sat back down after getting the notification he had stopped. "Iwakuni, huh? A US Marine Corps base," she mused. "Well, let's see what you're up to, Durante. Almost 3,000 years you said… this just keeps getting better."

The hangar buzzed with activity, the hum of engines and distant chatter blending with the occasional clatter of tools. Outside, the cool coastal air carried the faint scent of saltwater, mingling with the metallic tang of machinery. Durante stepped through the entrance, flashing his credentials to a Marine guard stationed by the door. The guard nodded, gesturing toward a nearby building—a temporary operations center set up for the mission.

Inside, the briefing room was starkly lit, with rows of chairs facing a large projection screen. The screen flickered to life, showing an aerial view of the target compound: an isolated facility on the rugged Japanese coastline, disguised as a desalinization plant. Pipes snaked outward from the main structure, and large storage tanks dotted the perimeter. To the untrained eye, it looked entirely mundane.

Durante entered quietly, taking a seat near the back. He checked his watch. Somehow, he'd made it on time, despite the evening's distractions. As more personnel filtered in, the room began to fill with a mix of JSDF (Japanese Self-Defense Forces) officers, US operatives, and support staff. The atmosphere was tense but focused.

A sharp voice broke the low murmur of conversation. "Settle down. We're starting."

The speaker was a JSDF officer, Colonel Nakamura, a man in his late forties with a commanding presence. He strode to the front of the room, his uniform crisp and his demeanor no-nonsense. Standing beside him was an American counterpart, Major Briggs, a burly man with a perpetually furrowed brow and a stack of papers tucked under one arm.

"Good evening," Nakamura began, his tone clipped. "Our target is the facility you see here." He gestured toward the display, which shifted to a detailed map of the compound. "Officially, it's a desalinization plant. In reality, it's a front for an illegal operation involving weapons research and other illegal activities. Intelligence suggests ties to rogue elements operating across multiple regions, and we have confirmed the presence of high-value targets within the compound."

Major Briggs stepped forward, taking over. "The mission will be a joint operation between JSDF and US forces. Each team has its designated objectives. JSDF will secure the perimeter and neutralize external defenses. US operatives will breach the main facility, focusing on gathering intelligence and apprehending key personnel."

The screen clicked over to the next image of specific sections of the compound. "The facility is split into several primary zones," Briggs continued. "Above ground, you've got the desalinization infrastructure—mostly for show, but there's likely a security presence there. Underground, we suspect multiple levels housing laboratories, barracks, and storage for classified materials."

Colonel Nakamura gestured to the screen. "The main assault will proceed in two phases. JSDF forces will approach by sea to secure the perimeter and prevent any escapes by water. Concurrently, air teams will deploy to the upper levels of the facility, drawing attention and securing above-ground structures."

Briggs added, "Ahead of this, Operative Vanguard will be inserted via HALO jump to infiltrate the southern perimeter. His objectives are to locate our primary target, Dominic Gray, disable critical systems, and provide reconnaissance for the assault teams."

Back in her lab, Washu observed the briefing through her micro-drones, her curiosity piqued. She tilted her head, her expression a mix of curiosity and bemusement as terms flew past her. HALO jump? Southern perimeter? Humans really do love their unnecessarily complicated strategies, she thought, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

Her drones pinged silently, feeding her information in real-time. She skimmed the details: High-Altitude, Low-Opening. A military parachuting technique. Oh, so he's jumping from a plane. Primitive—but I'll admit, it takes guts.

Her gaze lingered on Durante, calm and composed amidst the sea of jargon and tension. "Vanguard," huh? A leader, charging into danger. I wonder—how many times has he done this? Or is he just pretending to be fearless?"

"Rules of engagement (ROE) are straightforward," Briggs said. "Neutralize any hostile forces. Minimize collateral damage. Priority targets are to be taken alive if possible. And remember, this is Japanese soil. All actions must comply with local protocols."

Durante raised a hand, his voice calm but direct. "What's the ROE for my infiltration?"

"Lethal force is authorized against armed combatants," Briggs replied. "Avoid detection wherever possible, but if you're compromised, eliminate immediate threats quietly. Non-lethal methods are preferred for unarmed personnel. The priority is maintaining the element of surprise."

"And if I'm made?" Durante pressed, his tone even.

Briggs's jaw tightened slightly. "If you're made, terminate the immediate threat and withdraw to an alternate position. Do not engage the entire facility alone. We need you operational for the extraction phase."

Durante gave a slight nod, his focus shifting back to the map. The facility's southern approach looked straightforward, but he knew better than to trust appearances.

Washu's lips twitched into a grin. "Terminate immediate threats," they say. Oh, I'm sure you will, Mr. Vanguard. You seem like the type who doesn't leave loose ends."

As the briefing continued, a tablet on Durante's lap vibrated softly. He glanced down, unlocking it to reveal a separate message flagged as "Classified." The text was brief and to the point:

Target: Dominic Gray

Objective: Locate and confirm identity. Capture or terminate as necessary. Extract all relevant intelligence.

Secondary Directive: Secure advanced research personnel and technology. Priority Alpha.

Durante's jaw tightened. The orders were clear, yet vague enough to leave plenty of room for improvisation. Typical.

Meanwhile, the screen shifted to display grainy surveillance footage. A figure appeared, moving through the compound's underground levels: Dominic Gray. His face was obscured, but Durante recognized the gait, the calculated movements. It was unmistakable.

"This individual," Nakamura said, pointing to the image, "is believed to be the primary orchestrator of the operation. He's operating under the alias Dominic Gray, but his true identity remains unconfirmed. His capture is critical."

Limited intelligence? Durante stifled a smirk. They didn't know half of what they were dealing with. Nero wasn't just a mastermind; he was a survivor, a manipulator, and far more dangerous than any of them realized. He was an immortal, just like Durante.

Washu leaned back in her chair, her fingers drumming lightly on the desk. Her focus shifted from the tactical overview to Durante himself. You're no ordinary human, are you? I wonder how much of this is an act. How much are you hiding, Durante?

As the briefing wrapped up, Nakamura and Briggs fielded a few questions from the operatives. Durante remained silent, his mind already working through the details. He stood as the room began to empty, slipping the tablet into his jacket. Outside, the night air was crisp and bracing, a stark contrast to the tension simmering inside him.

Washu watched him leave the briefing room, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "Let's see how you pull this off," she said softly, her eyes gleaming with intrigue as the feed transitioned to real-time monitoring of his movements.

"Here we go again," Durante muttered under his breath, heading toward the staging area.

The interior of the aircraft was dimly lit, a stark contrast to the roaring hum of its engines as it sliced through the night sky. The faint red glow of the cabin lights illuminated Durante's face, his expression calm and focused. He sat near the rear ramp, the cold bite of high-altitude air still evident even through the skin of the plane. Around him, gear was neatly secured, leaving just enough room for him to finalize his preparations.

His fingers moved with practiced precision, checking every strap and securing his equipment. The parachute harness was snug, the altimeter on his wrist glowing faintly, and his oxygen mask rested against his chest, ready to be donned. He gave his weapons a final once-over: a suppressed MK18 rifle with a red dot, its matte surface dull under the dim light, and a suppressed M9 pistol holstered at his side. Lastly, his hand hovered over the sheathed sword secured along his back. He adjusted it slightly, ensuring it wouldn't interfere with his movements during the descent.

The pilot's voice crackled over the comms. "Five minutes to drop zone. Wind conditions are stable. You're clear to jump."

Durante acknowledged the update with a nod, though his eyes remained fixed on his gear. His fingers tightened the straps one last time before he reached for the oxygen mask, securing it over his face. The rhythmic sound of his breathing mixed with the hum of the engines as he stood, his movements fluid despite the bulky equipment.

Far away, in the solitude of her lab, Washu watched the scene unfold through her micro-drones. Her vibrant emerald eyes narrowed as she observed Durante's methodical preparation. "A sword? Really?" she muttered, leaning back in her chair. The smirk on her lips was equal parts amused and impressed. "You're full of surprises, Vanguard."

Her gaze lingered on his face, illuminated by the soft red light of the cabin. Despite the tension of the moment, he exuded a calm that even she had to admire. Washu drummed her fingers on the desk, her mind racing. He's jumping from a plane at night, alone, with only his wits and weapons. Either he's incredibly brave or ridiculously reckless. Maybe both.

The ramp began to lower, the cold air rushing in and revealing the vast expanse of the night sky. Stars glittered against the inky blackness, and the faint outlines of mountains and coastline appeared far below. Durante stepped closer to the edge, the wind tugging at his gear and pressing against his body like an invisible force.

Washu's drones captured every detail, streaming the data back to her lab in real time. Her brow furrowed slightly as she noticed the subtle movements of his hands, the way they gripped the straps on his harness. "No hesitation," she murmured. "Even now, you're completely focused. I wonder, Vanguard, what's going through your mind right now?"

In truth, Durante's thoughts were clear, almost mechanical. He visualized the descent, the landing zone, and the first steps of his infiltration. There was no room for doubt or distraction—not even the faint echo of Washu's voice in his mind, teasing and curious. But as he looked out into the endless night, he allowed himself a brief, fleeting thought: What would she think if she saw this in person?

The green light above the ramp blinked on, signaling the drop. Durante took a deep breath, his hand gripping the edge of the ramp as he stepped forward. Without a moment's hesitation, he leapt into the void, the rush of wind engulfing him as gravity took hold.

Washu leaned forward in her chair, her emerald eyes wide with fascination. The feed from her drones followed his descent, capturing the precision of his movements as he stabilized in freefall. "You're insane," she whispered, though there was a hint of admiration in her tone. "But I can't look away."

The altimeter on Durante's wrist ticked steadily downward, the numbers glowing faintly in the dark. At 3,000 feet, he reached for the ripcord, his fingers steady as he pulled. The parachute deployed with a sharp snap, the sudden deceleration tugging at his body. He adjusted his grip on the toggles, steering himself toward the designated landing zone—a narrow clearing just beyond the compound's southern perimeter.

Washu's drones shifted their focus, mapping the terrain below as Durante descended. Her analytical mind noted every detail: the faint outlines of patrols, the positioning of cameras, the subtle contours of the landscape. "I've got eyes everywhere, Durante. Let's see how well you navigate this world," she said with a smirk.

As his boots touched the ground, Durante landed with practiced ease, quickly detaching the parachute and rolling it into a tight bundle. He secured it beneath a nearby bush, his eyes scanning the surroundings. The night was eerily quiet, save for the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze. He crouched low, his hands instinctively raising his rifle to an alert to the dirt stance as he moved toward the compound.

Far above, the aircraft disappeared into the distance, leaving Durante alone in the dark. Washu leaned back in her chair, a satisfied grin on her face. "Now, let's see what you do next."

The quiet rustle of leaves and the distant hum of the ocean were the only sounds accompanying Durante as he crouched low, his boots crunching softly against the dirt. His landing zone was concealed by dense foliage, providing ample cover as he surveyed the terrain ahead. The compound's outer perimeter loomed in the distance, illuminated by pale floodlights mounted on tall poles. Shadows danced across the rugged landscape, distorted by the uneven terrain.

Durante's hand rested on his suppressed rifle, its matte-black finish blending seamlessly with the darkness. His other hand tapped his wrist-mounted display, cycling through a map of the area. The southern perimeter was dotted with patrols and stationary guards, but there were gaps—brief windows of opportunity he could exploit. Timing and precision would be everything.

From her lab, Washu leaned closer to her monitor, her emerald eyes flicking between the drone feeds and Durante's movements. Her drones hovered at a safe distance, capturing the scene with impeccable clarity. "All alone in the dark," she murmured, her tone a mix of curiosity and amusement.

Durante pressed himself against the ground as a patrol passed dangerously close, their boots crunching against gravel. He held his breath, his rifle trained on the two guards as they exchanged quiet conversation. His finger hovered over the trigger, but he waited, counting their steps until they disappeared into the night. Only then did he rise, moving swiftly and silently toward the perimeter.

Washu smirked, noting his restraint. "Smart. No unnecessary noise. But you're cutting it close, aren't you?" she whispered to herself.

Reaching the perimeter fence, Durante crouched behind a cluster of rocks, scanning for cameras. A rotating spotlight swept across the area, forcing him to freeze. His eyes tracked its rhythm, counting the seconds between each pass. When the light shifted away, he moved, clipping a small device to the fence. A faint blue glow pulsed as it short-circuited the section, disabling the alarm before he cut into it.

Sliding through the gap he created, Durante pressed against the cool metal of a storage container, his rifle raised. The compound's outer layer was deceptively quiet, but he knew better than to trust appearances. His gaze swept the area, picking out cover and potential threats with the precision of someone who had done this countless times before.

Inside her lab, Washu frowned slightly. One of her drones picked up movement ahead—a guard stationed near a maintenance shed, scanning the area with a flashlight. She tapped a command into her console, zooming in. "Looks like you've got company," she said under her breath. "Let's see how you handle this one."

The guard's beam swept dangerously close to Durante's position. He waited until the flashlight moved past, then shifted silently along the container's edge. As the guard turned, Durante stepped forward, his movements fluid and deliberate. His knife flashed in the dim light, a swift and silent movement that ended with the guard collapsing to the ground without a sound. The flashlight clattered softly, but Durante quickly snatched it up, ensuring the noise didn't carry.

Durante dragged the body into the shadows, ensuring it wouldn't be discovered easily. He retrieved the guard's radio, adjusting the volume to its lowest setting before tucking it into his gear. Always know what the enemy is saying, he thought.

Washu's brow arched as she observed. "Efficient. You've obviously done this before," she muttered. Despite herself, she felt a twinge of unease. The ease with which Durante moved, the precision of his actions—it spoke to a life spent navigating danger. But there was something else, something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Further into the compound, Durante reached the outer edge of the main structure. The building's concrete walls were stark and unadorned, broken only by a few narrow windows. A camera swept the entrance, its movements predictable but precise. Durante crouched, waiting for the right moment. When the camera turned away, he moved swiftly to the door, producing a small device from his gear. It emitted a soft beep as he connected it to the keypad, bypassing the lock in seconds.

The door hissed open, and Durante slipped inside, his rifle raised. The hallway was dimly lit, the fluorescent lights flickering faintly. It smelled of disinfectant and metal, the sterile atmosphere doing little to mask the tension in the air. He moved carefully, his footsteps silent against the tiled floor.

Washu's drones tracked his progress, their feeds painting a detailed picture of the facility. Her curiosity deepened as she noted the facility's design. "Advanced for humans," she murmured, her fingers tapping lightly on the desk. "But not advanced enough to keep you out, Vanguard."

As Durante rounded a corner, he paused. Voices echoed faintly from a nearby room. Pressing himself against the wall, he inched closer, his ears straining to catch the conversation.

"We've got to move this equipment tonight. They're saying the higher-ups are getting paranoid."

"Paranoid about what? Nobody's getting in here."

Durante smirked faintly, his grip tightening on his rifle. Famous last words, he thought, inching closer. The voices faded as the men moved away, their footsteps receding into the distance.

He continued deeper into the facility, his movements precise and deliberate. Every step brought him closer to his objective—and deeper into the unknown.

Back in her lab, Washu leaned forward, her emerald eyes narrowing. "You're good, Vanguard," she said softly. "But let's see how you handle what's waiting for you ahead."

Further into the compound, Durante spotted a dimly lit building with reinforced walls and a bank of antennae on its roof. He recognized it from the briefing. A pair of guards stood outside, rifles slung over their shoulders. Their postures were relaxed, but their presence marked the building as significant. Durante crouched low, studying their patterns. When one guard turned away to light a cigarette, Durante moved swiftly.

The first guard didn't see him coming. Durante's knife found its mark, and the man crumpled silently. The second guard barely had time to react before Durante's hand clamped over his mouth, the tip of the blade finishing the job. Both bodies were dragged into the shadows, their weapons unloaded and radios disabled to prevent accidental transmission.

Entering the building, Durante found himself in a control center. The room was dimly lit by the glow of monitors displaying live feeds from cameras around the compound. Three technicians sat at their stations, focused on their work. None of them noticed him until it was too late.

His movements were swift and decisive. The suppressed rifle in his hands hissed three times in quick succession, each shot precise and lethal. The technicians slumped forward at their stations before any of them could react, the muted gunfire blending into the hum of the electronics.

Washu's drones captured everything. Her lips tightened as she watched, her usual smirk faltering. "No hesitation," she murmured, her voice tinged with unease. "Six lives, just like that. You're ruthless, Durante. Practical, but ruthless." She leaned back slightly, her fingers drumming against the console as she let out a soft sigh. "What kind of life has he lived that makes this feel so casual for him?" Her emerald eyes lingered on the screen, caught between admiration for his precision and discomfort at his cold efficiency.

Durante set to work, connecting a device to the main console. The monitors flickered briefly as he disabled the camera feeds and looped footage to disguise his actions. Perimeter alarms were deactivated, and several electronic doors were unlocked, paving the way for the main assault teams. He also inserted a secondary drive, copying encrypted files and system logs.

Washu's fingers tapped rapidly on her console as her drones intercepted the data stream. Her curiosity deepened as the files began to decrypt. "What secrets are you hiding in here?" she whispered, her eyes narrowing at the schematic diagrams and personnel logs appearing on her screen.

With the systems disabled and his objectives complete, Durante activated a secure communication device from his gear. His voice was calm and measured as he transmitted the update. "Control center neutralized. Systems offline. Date downloaded. Proceeding to locate primary target."

Washu's head tilted slightly as she intercepted the communication. "Neutralized. That's how you describe killing six people," she said softly, her tone a mix of fascination and unease. "Efficient, but cold. What are you hiding beneath all that professionalism?"

With the transmission complete, Durante scanned the room one last time before slipping out. He left no trace of his presence beyond the bodies, which he had hidden in a storage closet. Outside, the night was as quiet as before, but the compound's defenses were in disarray.

Washu leaned back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. "Efficient and brutal," she said softly. "But what's driving you, Durante? And how far are you willing to go?"

The dimly lit hallway stretched ahead of Durante, its stark fluorescent lights flickering sporadically as he moved deeper into the facility. The air was oppressively still, carrying a faint metallic tang that hinted at the machinery below. In the distance, the occasional echo of dripping water added to the eerie quiet, punctuated only by the faint hum of unseen systems working tirelessly in the background. His suppressed rifle was raised, his movements fluid and calculated, each step carrying him closer to the unknown depths of the compound.

Washu's drones followed at a discreet distance, their cloaked forms flitting silently along the edges of the ceiling. Her emerald eyes tracked the live feeds in her lab, her cheek resting lightly on her fist as she observed. "You're getting closer," she murmured, her voice a mix of anticipation and curiosity. "But what are you walking into?"

Ahead, Durante spotted a junction in the corridor. He paused, pressing himself against the wall as the faint hum of distant machinery mingled with the occasional drip of water continued echoing through the sterile halls. Voices came from around the corner—two male guards in conversation, their tones casual but alert. The rhythmic clicking of heels against the tiled floor punctuated their chatter. A third figure emerged into view: a woman in a white lab coat, flanked by the two guards.

Her composed demeanor and confident posture suggested she was accustomed to authority. She adjusted her glasses with a deliberate motion, her gaze sweeping the corridor ahead as if calculating every potential obstacle. The subtle tapping of her fingers against her clipboard betrayed a flicker of impatience, a hint of human frailty behind the otherwise mechanical facade. Her white lab coat was pristine, and she moved with a controlled precision, yet there was something almost robotic about her. Unlike Washu's fiery vibrancy, this woman's presence felt cold and methodical, as if every step and glance had been calculated in advance. But it was her green eyes that caught Durante's attention, glimmering under the harsh lights. They were strikingly familiar, reminiscent of Washu's, yet lacked the depth and vibrancy he couldn't forget. These eyes were coldly calculating, almost mechanical, a stark contrast to the fiery intelligence that lingered in his mind.

He didn't hesitate. As the trio neared the junction, Durante moved with lethal precision. The first guard barely had time to register the dark blur before a suppressed shot ended him. The second spun, his rifle rising, but Durante was faster. Another muffled shot, and the hallway fell silent save for the faint hum of the ventilation system.

The scientist froze, her green eyes widening in shock as she stared at the black clad figure, her mind racing through a flood of panic and disbelief. Every nerve screamed at her to flee, but her body remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the lethal certainty in his gaze and the cold efficiency of his movements. Her breath hitched, and a faint tremor ran through her raised hands as she realized there was no escape. He closed the distance quickly, his rifle trained on her. "Don't scream," he said, his voice low and cold. "If you value your life, you'll stay quiet."

Her lips trembled, but she nodded, her hands raised slowly in surrender. Washu, watching intently, leaned forward in her chair, her expression sharpening. "What are you doing, Durante?" she murmured, her tone edged with both intrigue and concern.

Durante gestured toward the elevator at the end of the hall with the barrel of his rifle. "Move," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. The scientist obeyed; her footsteps hesitant but steady as she made her way to the elevator. Durante followed closely, his eyes scanning the corridor for any sign of reinforcements.

As they reached the elevator, Durante transitioned to his pistol, letting the rifle hang loose from its single point sling as he stuck the suppressed sidearm into the woman's back. She reached into her pocket with trembling hands, pulling out an access card. She swiped it against the panel, and the elevator doors slid open with a mechanical hiss, revealing a sterile, empty car. "Inside," he ordered. She stepped in cautiously, her eyes flicking nervously between Durante and the control panel.

Inside the elevator, she hesitated for a moment before swiping her card again to access the lower levels. The panel lit up, and Durante motioned her to press the button. The doors closed with a soft chime. The scientist's breathing was shallow, her hands still raised slightly as she stood in the corner, her back against the wall. Durante studied her briefly, his sharp gaze taking in every detail.

"What's your name?" he asked, his tone as much an interrogation as it was a demand.

"Dr. Evelyn Kato," she replied, her voice trembling but clear.

"What's down there, Evelyn?" Durante asked, nodding toward the illuminated button for the lower levels.

She hesitated, her green eyes flickering with fear and calculation. "Research labs. That's all I know."

Durante's lips pressed into a thin line before jamming the pistol into her back. "Try again. Lying won't end well for you."

Kato swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. "There are restricted zones. High-level projects. I… I don't have clearance for some of them."

The elevator shuddered slightly as it came to a stop, the panel flashing with an ominous red glow. The doors slid open, revealing a gleaming corridor bathed in pale, sterile light. The air was colder here, the hum of machinery louder, almost oppressive.

Durante's gaze swept the corridor, noting the biometric scanners mounted beside reinforced doors and the faint red light of a camera tracking their position. He pressed the pistol into Dr. Kato's back. "Keep moving," he ordered.

She hesitated, her breath hitching. "This… this is a secure zone. If they see me with you—"

"They won't see us," Durante interrupted, his voice low and cold. He gestured to the closest security camera, already pulling a compact device from his gear. With practiced ease, he attached it to the panel beside the door, the camera feed looping to show an empty corridor.

Dr. Kato's steps faltered as they approached the first door, her hands shaking as she swiped her card against the scanner. The lock clicked open, and the door slid aside to reveal another corridor lined with unmarked doors. Durante's grip on his pistol tightened as he moved forward, his eyes scanning for any signs of movement or hidden threats.

"Where's Nero?" Durante demanded sharply.

Kato blinked, confusion flashing across her face. "Nero? I don't—"

"Dominic Gray," Durante corrected coldly. "Where is he?"

Realization dawned in Kato's expression, and she swallowed hard. "He's in the restricted sectors deeper in. But I don't have clearance for those areas. No one does except his team."

"What's in the restricted sectors?" Durante asked, his tone sharp as his pistol stayed trained on Dr. Kato.

She hesitated, her green eyes darting nervously between him and the bulkhead. "Antimatter research," she stammered. "They're working on prototypes for… something dangerous. I don't have clearance for the labs."

Washu froze in her lab, her emerald eyes widening as the words registered. "Antimatter?" she repeated aloud, her voice tinged with a rare note of alarm. Her fingers flew across her console, pulling up historical data and schematics related to antimatter technology. "If they're working on antimatter prototypes, that's not just dangerous—it's catastrophic."

She leaned back in her chair, her mind racing. "Antimatter isn't something you 'experiment' with lightly. Even a microgram could level a city if mishandled. What are they doing with that kind of power? And why?"

Her gaze returned to the feed of Durante making his way deeper into the facility. "And you're walking right into it, aren't you?" she muttered, her tone a mix of exasperation and reluctant admiration. "You reckless, impossible man. Let's see if you even realize what you're getting into."
Durante leaned in slightly, his voice cold. "Then how do I get in?"

"There's… there's a maintenance route," Kato admitted reluctantly, her voice trembling. "Through the reactor cooling system. But it's hazardous—deadly, even. You wouldn't make it ten feet in there."

"Let me worry about that," Durante replied flatly. "Where's the entrance?"

Kato swallowed hard, pointing toward a nearby bulkhead with shaking fingers. "There's a hatch behind that panel. But the radiation—"

"Open it," he interrupted, motioning her forward with his pistol.

Washu, observing from her lab, leaned back slightly, her expression a mix of intrigue and disbelief. "She's terrified, but she still thinks he'll listen. That's almost cute."

Kato hesitated at the panel, her hands fumbling with the access card. The lock disengaged with a mechanical hiss, revealing a narrow passage lit by faint, flickering lights. Warning signs plastered the walls: EXTREME RADIATION—AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.

Durante's gaze shifted to Kato. "That's all I need from you," he said, his tone emotionless, though his eyes carried a flicker of cold calculation. Kato's breath hitched, her pulse racing as she realized the gravity of his words. Her lips parted as if to protest, but the unwavering intensity in his gaze silenced her, leaving a sharp chill of fear in its wake.

Kato's eyes widened in realization, her breath catching as he holstered his pistol. "Wait, you can't just—"

Before she could finish, Durante moved, his arm wrapping around her neck in a practiced motion. Her struggles were brief before she slumped unconscious in his grip.

Washu lips curved into a faint smirk before speaking with a tinge of sarcasm. "How chivalrous of him."

Gently lowering Kato to the floor, Durante glanced around, spotting a utility closet nearby. He dragged her to it, securing her inside before turning back to the hatch. Adjusting his rifle, Durante turned back to the bulkhead. His eyes narrowed as he studied the panel beside the hatch, ready to move forward alone.

Pushing open the hatch, Durante stepped into the reactor cooling system without a moment's hesitation. His unwavering confidence came from years of experience navigating hostile environments, and an almost unsettling certainty that nothing this facility could throw at him would be beyond the limits of his body. A blast of hot, metallic air hit him as the faint hum of machinery grew into a dull roar. Red warning lights flickered along the walls, accompanied by bold text: WARNING: EXTREME RADIATION LEVELS—PROTECTIVE GEAR REQUIRED.

In her lab, Washu's eyes widened, her fingers freezing mid-tap. "Wait, what are you doing?" she muttered, leaning closer to the monitor.

Data streamed across her console: radiation levels spiking well into lethal ranges. Seven sieverts per hour. Enough to kill an ordinary human in minutes. "You're walking into a death trap!" Washu exclaimed, her voice rising with alarm.

Durante moved calmly through the chamber, his expression unchanging as he navigated the maze of pipes and vents. The soft glow of coolant fluid cast eerie reflections on the walls, the air heavy with heat and danger. Each step brought him closer to the lower levels, the faint rumble of machinery growing louder as he descended. The radiation warning signs became more frequent, their bold text screaming danger, yet he pressed forward without hesitation, his focus razor-sharp.

Washu, back in her lab, leaned closer to her monitors, her emerald eyes darting between the live feed and the streams of data pouring in. The radiation levels were climbing beyond survivable limits for most known species, yet Durante moved as if unaffected by it. Her fingers danced over her console, pulling up enhanced scans of his vitals.

"His cellular regeneration is almost instantaneous," she muttered to herself, her voice a mix of awe and disbelief. "This isn't just resilience—it's complete biological adaptation. Who are you, Durante? What could you possibly be?"

The speed at which his cells repaired themselves defied every scientific law she knew. Radiation that would reduce a normal human to jelly in minutes barely left a mark on him. For the first time in a long while, Washu felt truly stumped, her mind racing to connect the dots.

Meanwhile, Durante continued through the labyrinthine reactor, his gaze scanning every corner for potential threats. He reached a grated platform overlooking a vast chamber filled with glowing coolant tanks and conduits stretching like veins into the facility's depths. A single stairwell spiraled downward, its railings worn and slick with condensation. Without breaking stride, he began his descent, his focus unyielding.

Washu's voice broke through the silence of her lab as she murmured, "If you're this durable, what else are you capable of? And what exactly are you chasing down there?"

Washu ran a quick calculation, her emerald eyes narrowing as the numbers confirmed her fears. "This isn't possible," she murmured. "At those levels, your cells should be disintegrating. But your vitals…"

She glanced at the feed from one of her drones, which tracked his movements closely. His breathing was steady, his heart rate a measured rhythm. No signs of stress, no signs of pain. A sudden hiss of steam erupted from a nearby valve, the superheated vapor slicing across his arm with a sharp sizzle, filling the air with the acrid stench of burnt flesh and metal. Durante flinched, his jaw tightening as his arm instinctively pulled back, but he pressed forward, his steps deliberate. The skin blistered and blackened, only to ripple and knit itself back together within seconds, leaving no trace of injury by the time he had taken two steps. The wound was gone.

Washu froze, her breath catching as she stared at the feed. "That's not human," she murmured, her tone sharp with disbelief. "Not even close."

She quickly pulled up more data from the drones, watching as his vitals remained steady. "He's healing—regenerating in real time. But how?" Her fingers hovered over her console as she whispered to herself, equal parts alarmed and fascinated. "What the hell are you, Durante?"

The reinforced door hissed open, revealing a darkened corridor that stretched into the unknown. Durante adjusted the grip on his rifle, his eyes scanning for movement as he stepped into the lower levels. The air was colder here, heavy with the metallic tang of coolant and the faint hum of energy pulsing through the walls.

Behind him, the hatch sealed shut with a mechanical clang, leaving him with only the faint glow of emergency lights to guide his way. His boots echoed against the polished floor; the sound swallowed by the oppressive hum that seemed to emanate from every surface. He moved with practiced precision, his breathing steady as his eyes darted between the shadows and the faint glimmers of machinery further ahead.

Washu leaned closer to her monitor, her gaze darting between the live feed from her drones and the energy readings pouring in. "What is this place?" she murmured, her tone laced with unease. The energy signatures spiked erratically, far beyond what she'd anticipated. "This isn't just a lab or a reactor—."

Durante paused at a branching hallway, his sharp eyes catching the faint glow of a security camera mounted in the corner. Without hesitation, he pulled a compact device from his belt, aiming it at the camera. A quick pulse of static overtook the feed before it looped to show an empty corridor. Satisfied, he pressed on, his steps deliberate and silent.

The lower levels were unlike the upper facility. The walls were reinforced with thick steel plating, lined with cables that pulsed faintly with an eerie blue light. The air felt charged, a static sensation prickling at the back of his neck. Panels of glass revealed glimpses of rooms beyond: sterile laboratories filled with strange equipment, glowing containment chambers, and data servers humming with activity.

Washu's voice broke through the silence of her lab as she murmured, "They're not just containing antimatter… they're harnessing it. But for what?" Her fingers flew across her console, enhancing the drone feeds to analyze the equipment in the labs. "This isn't just research. This is production."

Ahead, Durante reached another security checkpoint, this one guarded by two armed men stationed beside a heavy blast door. Their posture was tense, their eyes scanning the corridor with disciplined focus. Durante pressed himself against the wall, observing their patterns before retrieving a small mirror from his vest to check the area beyond the door. The corridor past them led to a massive chamber, its entrance marked by bold warnings about radiation and high-energy containment.

Durante's gaze narrowed. This was it—the heart of the facility.

He slid the mirror back into his vest, his mind already calculating his approach. With deliberate movements, he adjusted his rifle and retrieved a flashbang from off his vest. Timing the guards' movements, he pulled the pin and lobbed the device around the corner. The blinding flash and deafening crack disoriented the guards instantly. Before they could recover, Durante moved with lethal precision, taking them down with two quick, suppressed shots.

Washu leaned back in her chair, flinching slightly as the flashbang detonated on her monitor, the sudden burst of light and simulated sound through the feed catching her off guard. She blinked a few times, her expression shifting to a mix of unease and fascination. "Well that went off with a bang," she muttered, her tone carrying a hint of sarcasm as she steadied herself. "But a little warning would've been nice." But her attention quickly shifted back to the massive chamber visible through the drone's feed. "What's waiting for you in there?"

Durante approached the blast door, his movements unhurried but purposeful. The control panel blinked red, demanding both a keycard and biometric verification. He retrieved the stolen keycard from earlier, swiping it against the reader. The first lock disengaged with a soft beep. For the biometric scan, he produced a compact device that mimicked fingerprints and retinal data, placing it against the scanner. After a tense moment, the panel flashed green, and the heavy door rumbled open.

The chamber beyond was massive, a cavernous space dominated by a glowing core suspended in a reinforced containment field. Before Durante could move further, the faint rumble beneath his feet became a deafening roar as alarms blared throughout the facility. Red emergency lights pulsed, bathing the corridors in a menacing glow. Explosions echoed in the distance, followed by the unmistakable staccato of gunfire. Durante stiffened, his sharp eyes scanning the chamber for signs of movement.

Washu's voice cut in; her tone edged with wry amusement. "Looks like the cavalry has arrived. Though I'm guessing subtlety isn't their strong suit." Her satellite and other drone feeds displayed JSDF operatives breaching the facility's outer walls, firefights erupting as guards scrambled to respond. "They're drawing all the attention, which might work in your favor… or not."

Durante exhaled sharply, muttering, "They're early." He adjusted his rifle, moving quickly but cautiously toward the reactor. The chaos might buy him time, but it also meant the facility's internal security would be on high alert.

As he advanced, a side door burst open, and five guards stormed into the corridor, their rifles sweeping the space. Durante didn't hesitate. The air around him seemed to shift, a faint distortion rippling outward.

Washu leaned forward in her chair, her emerald eyes widening. "What… what is he doing?" she murmured, her voice barely audible. The feed from the drones flickered slightly, struggling to keep up with what came next.

Durante moved. To the guards, it was as though he vanished, reappearing between them in the blink of an eye. His movements were impossibly fast, his strikes precise and devastating. The sound of bone breaking and weapons clattering to the floor filled the air as one by one, the guards fell.

Flames—not literal but almost—seemed to lick at his skin, an ethereal aura that distorted the space around him. Washu stared at the screen, her breath catching. "That's… not teleportation," she muttered. "It's speed. He's moving faster than the human eye can track. Faster than the drones can process. Those flames… they're more than just energy. They're amplifying him."

Durante's focus remained unbroken. A guard lunged at him from behind, but with a flicker of motion, Durante had already moved, his elbow slamming into the man's chest with enough force to send him flying into the wall. The guard didn't get up.

Washu whispered, "What are you?" as her drones captured the aftermath—a corridor littered with unconscious and broken guards.

More enemy soldier poured in from another direction. Durante instantly raised his rifle, the first shot took out one guard cleanly, the suppressed report muffled by the chaos. A second guard turned, but Durante's rifle bucked again, the round cutting through his throat in a single, brutal motion before he fell to the ground, choking on blood. Durante twisted, firing two more suppressed rounds into the remaining guards. One dropped instantly, but the other managed to fire a burst, the bullets ricocheting off the walls. One round grazed Durante's side, but the wound healed almost instantly, the flames flickering brighter in response. He vaulted over a console, his movements impossibly fluid as he drove the muzzle of his rifle into the man's temple, the impact cracking his skull before he collapsed to the ground. More reinforcements poured into the corridor—six more guards in tactical gear, their rifles trained on him. Durante rolled into cover as they opened fire, taking another round to shoulder. He breathed steady despite the ferocity of the fire fight and worked through the pain as the fresh wound quickly healed. The flames licked at his body, shimmering brighter as he sprang back into action. He flashed from one spot to another in what seemed an instant, firing bursts from his rifle, the shots finding their mark with deadly efficiency. The air was filled with the metallic scent of blood and gunpowder as six more men were cut down.

Washu's voice cracked through the tension. "He's regenerating almost instantly, but…" Her brow furrowed as she analyzed the data. "The flames are dimming slightly. He's burning through his energy too fast. He's going to hit a wall if this keeps up."

A grenade sailed toward him, but he caught it mid-air like a baseball, hurling it back with such force that it detonated before the guards could scatter. The explosion rocked the facility, throwing what remained of the grenade's owners against the walls.

Washu's drones hovered above, their feeds continuing to capture the brutal fight. She stared at the monitors, her expression a mix of awe and genuine shock. "This isn't combat," she muttered. "It's a slaughter."

Washu leaned closer to her console, her fingers flying across the keys. "He's tearing through them," she murmured. "But his vitals… they're spiking." Her emerald eyes narrowed as the flames around him began to waver. "It's clearly taking a toll on his body."

Durante's chest heaved as he scanned the corridor. The last remaining guards exchanged glances before routing, their courage finally breaking under the weight of his brutal efficiency. Durante didn't pursue them. The fight was over. He leaned heavily against the wall, the flames around him flickering weakly before fading entirely. His shoulders sagged, and his breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps, the toll of his power finally catching up with him.

In her lab, Washu sat frozen, her emerald eyes locked on the screen. The feed showed the aftermath of the carnage: bodies strewn across the corridor, blood pooling beneath shattered helmets and crumpled forms. Her usual curiosity gave way to something sharper—an unsettling mix of awe and horror. "You're pushing too hard, Durante," she murmured, her voice low and steady, as if addressing the screen itself. "That power… it's not infinite. And it's going to kill you if you're not careful."

She leaned back in her chair, her gaze lingering on the monitor. For the first time in centuries, Washu felt a flicker of something unfamiliar—genuine concern and alarm. Not for the mission, not for the technology or the stakes, but for the man walking through the chaos as if he were carrying the weight of the world alone. Only he didn't show it. "What are you really, Durante?" she whispered, her fingers drumming lightly against her desk. "And how much more can you take before you break?"

Durante pushed off the wall, forcing himself upright. Each step felt heavier than the last, but his focus remained razor-sharp, his resolve unshaken. The corridor stretched ahead, lit intermittently by flickering lights, while the distant sound of reinforcements echoed through the steel halls. He wiped the blood from his knife against his pants before sheathing it with practiced ease. With deliberate movements, he cleared his rifle and slammed in a fresh magazine, the metallic click of sending the bolt home cutting through the oppressive silence.

He glanced back briefly at the devastation he left behind—broken bodies, scorched walls, and shattered weapons. Then, with a faint grimace, he turned his gaze forward, raising his weapon. The air was heavy with the tang of blood and burnt gunpowder, but Durante moved forward, undeterred. His mission wasn't over, and there was no turning back. As he disappeared into the shadows of the corridor, he left behind not just a massacre, but the undeniable truth of his power—evident not only to himself, but to the red-haired genius observing him from afar.