CHAPTER 15

When I went back home that night, I was feeling a bit down. I guess I've always yearned for some comfort, but I didn't even realize it until now.

As I opened the door to my small, dimly lit apartment, the sound of shuffling footsteps caught my attention.

My elderly neighbor, an old man in his seventies with a slight hunch and a walking stick, was approaching me slowly from across the hall.

"Good evening, Grandpa," I greeted him with a faint smile.

"Oh, good evening, young lad," he said, his voice carrying the weight of age. "You know, some policemen came around earlier today when you were out with that little lad."

"Wait, policemen?" I asked, my brows furrowing.

"Yes, yes," he said, waving a wrinkled hand dismissively. "They didn't say much, but they mentioned they'd be back tomorrow."

"Did they happen to be a man and a woman?" I pressed.

"No, two men," he replied with a shrug.

Then, after a pause, he added, "You seem like a nice lad, so if I were you, I'd take off tonight." He turned, tapping his stick against the floor as he made his way back to his apartment. "I'm off to bed now."

I watched him shuffle away, a frown forming on my face. The police? Looking for me? That was a first. But why?

As far as I knew, I hadn't done anything unlawful recently. Well, except for the underground fighting, but even that was off-limits to the authorities unless they wanted to risk crossing some very powerful people.

Despite my attempts to rationalize, an uneasy sensation gripped me, as if my entire body were trying to warn me of imminent danger.

For someone as strong as me to feel this level of unrest, it meant the threat was extraordinary.

I entered my apartment quickly, locking the door behind me. Walking briskly to my bedroom, I activated my technopathy.

My emerald-green eyes turned an electric blue, and if anyone were close enough, they would have seen streams of data flashing within them like digital screens.

By the time I reached my bed, I had hacked into the police database.

A virtual screen, visible only to me, materialized midair, displaying a folder labeled Jack Wattson. It opened to reveal an extensive file detailing my entire life—my birthdate, my parents' deaths, my lifestyle, my relationships, even my underground fights.

One draft stood out immediately: a direct order to detain me until further notice. It wasn't signed, but the directive was marked as "from above."

"Above, huh?" I muttered under my breath, my mind already racing to figure out who was behind this.

Complex codes flickered across my virtual screen as I delved deeper into the system, using my name as the key.

Within seconds, I found what I was looking for: an order issued by none other than the Chief of Police, Hank McDonald. The reason for my detention wasn't specified, but the command came directly from the mayor's office.

My frown deepened as I accessed the chief's phone records. Among the logs was a text from the mayor:

Someone needs Jack Wattson brought to him. Detain him until I give further instructions.

The message was vague, but it was enough to confirm my suspicions. Someone very influential wanted me, and they were using the police to do their bidding.

Checking the mayor's phone didn't yield any further clues—he had covered his tracks well. Frustrated but undeterred, I stepped up my search.

Transforming into my cyborg form, I activated my full abilities. My body became sleek and metallic, perfectly optimized for processing vast amounts of information.

Leaping from my window, I soared into the night sky, the city of Los Angeles sprawling beneath me in a kaleidoscope of lights.

Hovering high above, I tapped into global telecommunication networks.

My mind merged with countless temporary storage systems where calls and messages were stored before deletion. Information surged into my brain, overwhelming for anyone else, but manageable in my enhanced state.

I filtered the data relentlessly, isolating anything connected to my name. Most of it was irrelevant—chatter from distant relatives, old friends—but eventually, I struck gold.

On the dark web, an anonymous account had contacted someone named "Shadow."

The account wasn't hard to crack. It belonged to a secretive government organization. And the person who controlled it? Raymond—a government agent who had tried to recruit me after my fight with the Jury.

"So, this is how they want to play it," I murmured, a faint smile tugging at my lips.

Raymond's involvement confirmed my suspicion that the government was after me. But the name "Shadow" intrigued me even more.

This wasn't just anyone. Shadow was a legend in whispered circles, known as the strongest being alive. His abilities were said to be godlike, and his loyalty to the government made him their ultimate weapon.

No official database contained any information about him, not even the CIA. It was as if he didn't exist. But the gossip on the dark web painted a vivid picture: Shadow's ability was time manipulation.

The revelation sent a chill down my spine. This wasn't just some hitman the government had sent after me.

Shadow could move through time, see the future, even erase someone from existence by undoing their very birth. He wasn't just a threat; he was a nightmare.

.......................

Elsewhere in Los Angeles, Raymond was lounging in a luxury hotel suite, sipping whiskey as he stared out at the city skyline. His partner, Deline, was in the kitchen preparing dinner.

They had been given a three-day deadline to "handle" me, and the first day had passed with little progress. But now, with Shadow on their side, Raymond felt an intoxicating sense of relief.

The call from Shadow had changed everything. If anyone could eliminate me, it was him. Shadow's reputation was more than enough to guarantee success.

"Let's see you escape this time," Raymond muttered, a sinister grin spreading across his face.

........................

Far from the city, deep in an isolated forest, a man sat at the peak of a hill, watching the sunset with calm detachment. He appeared to be in his forties, with unkempt black hair, a rugged beard, and piercing gray eyes. His muscular frame exuded quiet power.

As the sun disappeared below the horizon, his eyes glowed faintly gold, and a five-pointed star encircled by a perfect ring appeared in his irises. The symbol began to spin, slowly at first, then faster, until the very air around him seemed to distort.

The space in a kilometer radius shimmered like fractured glass, revealing countless fractured reflections. Shadow gazed into these "mirrors," each one showing a different outcome.

In some, he stood triumphant over my bloodied body. In others, the city lay in ruins, and I stood victorious amidst the chaos. The visions stretched endlessly, each more uncertain than the last.

Shadow's expression, usually stoic, flickered with intrigue. This was a first—an opponent whose future wasn't fixed, whose path was as unpredictable as a storm.

"Interesting," he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful.

As the mirrored fragments dissolved, Shadow leaned back, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Let's see how you react," he said softly, "when your family suffers because of you."

His laughter echoed through the forest, cold and menacing, as the stars began to fill the sky.