Prologue: Project R

"Project R!"

The unsettling sound of bones fracturing echoed through the space, a sickening crunch that reverberated like a dark omen.

"Step back! You've shattered his ribs!" The command, harsh and urgent, cut through the gloom like a blade.

"Project R, do you hear us?"

"Come on, stay with us, Project R! Open your eyes!"

"Raven!" His name resonated through the tense atmosphere, a lifeline in the consuming darkness.

The weight of pressure intensified on his chest, each compression accompanied by a sense of urgency that hung heavy in the air like a storm about to break.

"Too weak, he's not breathing."

"Damn it! He shouldn't have finished this assessment! He has medical conditions! Why did you let him go through with it to the very end?" The voice, filled with a rage that bordered on despair, trembled through the thick silence.

The rhythmic cadence of resuscitation cut through the air, breaths forced into his unresponsive body, expanding his chest with each life-saving attempt. But the darkness clung to him, refusing to relinquish its hold.

"We got some requests, and they signed the agreement letter for it," someone said, their voice distant, dispassionate, like the bureaucratic murmurs of the damned.

"Project R collapsed. He's experiencing cardiac arrest, and we're attempting to bring him back."

The room seemed to hold its breath, the shadows closing in, as every effort was poured into reviving the fading spark of life within him.

"Do whatever it takes. He must come back," his father's voice, cold and unyielding, commanded from the shadows.

"Understood."

"Raven, I'm here. Come back," Alaric's voice pleaded, desperate, a rare crack in the usually stoic facade.

"Raven! Wake up! Rise, my child!" The desperate cries echoed from the distraught figure of his mother, her voice a mournful hymn in the flickering dark.

"Project R achieved the highest score, ranking first in all assessments. However, due to pushing himself in the endurance assessment, he experienced cardiac arrest," a brief report stated, detached and clinical, as if summarizing the inevitable fate of those who dared to chase the impossible.

…

BANG!

…

The sound of a gunshot echoed, sharp and final.

A thud followed as a body hit the floor with the grim finality of a life extinguished.

Someone was dead, and Raven could still hear and feel everything, caught in the grim irony of his own suspended existence.

The sudden shift from achievement to tragedy left an eerie silence, punctuated only by the lingering echoes of the fatal event.

"Didn't I make it clear? He only needed to assert his position, no need to reclaim the top spot," a voice seethed, tinged with frustration and something darker.

…

BANG!

…

Another shot, another heavy thud as a life was claimed by the unrelenting pursuit of power.

Raven grappled with the searing pain inflicted by the hands that sought to bring him back. A silent observer to his own struggle, he yearned to lash out at those attempting to revive him, a frustrating inability to communicate his distress. If only he could command his limbs to respond, he would have undoubtedly delivered a resounding rebuke to all involved.

The relentless waves of pain surged through him, a cruel reminder of the fine line between life and the void. In the stillness of his muted existence, the torment echoed louder than any words he could muster.

"Raven," Alaric's voice persisted, a lifeline in the darkness. "Follow my voice. Wake up."

Pain.

A ceaseless torrent, each surge more punishing than the last, a symphony of agony that drowned out all else. The relentless assault of anguish seemed to know no bounds, leaving Raven suspended in a world where only the language of pain spoke, and only the echoes of suffering lingered. Darkness enveloped him, a shroud that concealed the world beyond, leaving Raven trapped in the void between consciousness and the abyss.

"Don't give up, Raven! Because I won't give up!" Alaric's voice, defiant and unyielding, pierced through Raven's desire for tranquil repose.

Raven resented the intrusion, yearning only for undisturbed slumber—hovering, drifting in the serene void of emptiness. The struggle between persistence and the allure of quiet oblivion intensified, casting him into the delicate balance between the pull of resolute voices and the beckoning embrace of undisturbed rest.

"Stop, Alaric! Stop chasing me! Give up! Just give up! Are you stupid?!" Raven's frustration erupted like a torrent, the words a desperate plea to halt the unyielding pursuit.

"Why can't you comprehend the simple command to 'stop'? Why pursue me to this extent?! Utterly foolish!" The echoes of Raven's outcry reverberated in the void, caught between the desire for solitude and the ceaseless chase that defied reason. But he couldn't carry out his plea. The inexorable pull of the expanding darkness had swallowed him too deeply. Each word echoed like a fading cry in a cavern, drowned out by the overwhelming abyss that held him captive.

"Still too weak. We almost lost him," the person exclaimed, their efforts to revive Raven evident in the persistent pressure on his chest.

"What's your defense this time?"

"With this, Project R secures the top position! He successfully reclaimed his standing within this organization." The triumphant declaration cut through the lingering tension, signaling a precarious victory amid the precariousness of Raven's weakened state.

BANG!

The acrid scent of gun smoke hung in the air, accompanying the unsettling echo of bullets colliding with the floor.

"You can still discuss achievements at a time like this. Foolish," the disdainful remark cut through the tension, emphasizing the absurdity of focusing on accomplishments in the midst of such chaos.

"Administer epinephrine and prepare the defibrillator," the doctor ordered.

The machine whirred as it charged, the sound a harbinger of the next desperate bid to pull Raven back from the brink.

"Clear."

"Clear."

Raven floated on the cusp of eternity, caught between the relentless pull of death and the fading tether to life. In this twilight, where every moment stretched into infinity, he remained a prisoner to the whims of those who refused to let him go, their futile efforts echoing in the void that held him captive.