"And what if I don't?" Harold barked, taking a menacing step toward her. "They're weak, pathetic flies. Just like you."
Eliza lowered her lipstick, leaning back against the steel beam with a quiet, melodic laugh. "Careful, Harold... or I might just kill you. Slowly, and very brutally."
Harold's face contorted in fury. He stalked forward, his massive frame towering over her. "You absolute bitch—"
Eliza slid off the crates, her hands dipping into her coat as her aura flared with lethal intent.
"Hey, hey! Calm down, both of you!"
A third man stepped sharply between them, holding his hands out in a defensive gesture. "Control yourselves! We are executive members of Loop—we cannot afford internal brawls right now!"
"Get lost, Leonard," Harold spat, glaring past him at Eliza.
"No, Harold, I am right here," Leonard said, his tone dead serious.
Harold held Eliza's gaze for a second longer before scoffing loudly. "I'll deal with you later, bitch," he growled, turning on his heel and stomping off into the inner sanctuary.
Eliza chuckled darkly, smoothing down her dress. "Poor little boy actually thinks he stands a chance against me."
"Silence, Eliza!" Leonard yelled, turning to her with a frustrated glare. "Why must you provoke Number 3? He outranks you. You are Number 4, Eliza. Keep your place."
Eliza let out a dramatic sigh, adjusting her dark gloves. "Fine, fine. Stay here, Leonard. Number 5 needs to guard the gate anyway. They should be arriving with the primary shipment shortly."
Leonard nodded, "Right, today is the day. And I know my duties," Leonard replied coldly.
Eliza offered a dismissive wave, disappearing down the corridor.
Left alone in the quiet foyer, Leonard turned his gaze toward the unconscious guard bleeding on the concrete floor. He let out a long, exhausted sigh, stepping over the body and leaning back against the cold steel barrier.
Loop... everything has changed, Leonard thought bitterly, staring up at the harsh halogen lights. We are no longer the terrifying empire we once were. We are standing on the absolute brink of total collapse. And it all went wrong... on that cursed day.
His mind involuntarily drifted back years into the past—to a blood-soaked memory that still haunted his nightmares.
He remembered a dimly lit compound floor. Red blood pooled across the concrete, intermingled with hundreds of discarded assault rifles, shattered combat knives, snapped swords, and almost lifeless bodies stacked shoulder-high.
And standing in the absolute center of the carnage was a single teenage boy.
The teenager stood casually, both hands resting lazily inside his jacket pockets. There was not a single drop of blood on his clothes. Not a single scratch on his skin nor his clothes.
A younger Leonard had been standing twenty feet away, flanked by two of Loop's most elite squad leaders. All three of them had been armed to the teeth with high-caliber rifles, tactical vests, and military-grade blades.
The teenager had slowly turned his head toward them. His face was obscured in deep shadows, save for a wide, unnervingly cold smile that split his features.
"Leonard, what are you waiting for?! Shoot him!" one of his squad mates had screamed, his voice shaking violently.
"We can't win this!" the second man had whimpered, tears mixing with the sweat on his face. "The entire division couldn't put a scratch on him! What the hell are three men supposed to do?!"
"We can't just let this monster slaughter us without fighting back!" the first man roared in desperation. "Where in the Earth did that Murphy even find a monster like that?!"
"Open fire! DIE!"
Both men had raised their rifles, screaming at the top of their lungs as they pulled their triggers.
Leonard hadn't moved. He had remained completely frozen in place, paralyzed by pure instinct.
Before the muzzle flashes could even illuminate the room, a blinding flash of silver cut through the air. The next second, warm blood sprayed across Leonard's face as his two comrades dropped lifelessly to the floor beside him.
The teenage boy had tilted his head, his dark, hollow eyes locking onto Leonard.
Leonard's entire body trembled uncontrollably. With shaking hands, he had slowly managed to unsheathe a combat knife, holding it up with pathetic weakness.
The boy's smile broadened—a terrifying, ungodly grin—as he took a single, slow step toward him.