Chapter 4: Burn Protocol
They landed without sound.
Three shadows touching enemy soil.
The fortress alarms activated almost instantly.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Red lights washed the corridors in warning.
"Split formation," ordered the woman in white through comms.
"Destroy communication towers first."
Daito moved first.
Not rushing.
Not hesitating.
Just direct.
The first wave of enemy soldiers rounded the steel corridor corner.
Humans.
Armored.
Armed.
Daito's blade flashed once.
Pow!
A precise strike to disable.
Poof!
A hilt strike to the neck.
Pang!
A disarm.
He moved through them like wind cutting through tall grass.
No wasted motion.
SWOOSH! CRASH!
Behind him, Tasao V activated his alchemic veins — glowing blue patterns crawling along his arms as he crushed a turret with raw enhanced force.
SKEETCH! CRACK!
Zumi C traced geometric sigils midair, distorting gravity around a machine core until it imploded inward with a metallic scream.
BASH! CRASH!
Daito destroyed generators.
Data nodes.
Power conduits.
He did not kill unnecessarily.
He incapacitated efficiently.
Swoosh!
But he did not hesitate when lethal force was required.
The Briefcase.
Deep inside the command wing, they found it.
Black.
Hardened.
Sealed with biometric lock.
The fallen NBA agent lay nearby.
Burn marks across the chest.
Execution-style.
Daito knelt briefly.
Closed the man's eyes.
Then lifted the briefcase.
For a second…
He considered opening it.
He wanted to know.
The truth about Disorder.
About Freakers.
About why his mother feared the NBA.
His thumb hovered near the seal.
If he opened it—
The system would log it.
The team's mission would be compromised.
Suspicion would rise.
And two Savages with explosive chips would become collateral damage.
Daito stood.
He locked it to his back harness instead.
Orders were clear.
Retrieve.
Not inspect.
* * *
They regrouped at the central courtyard.
The last communication tower collapsed behind them.
The base was in flames.
BOOOOM!!
Explosions echoed.
BBRRMM!
Data centers burned.
Black smoke twisted upward.
The three walked through the firelight.
Eyes reflecting red in the blaze.
Mission nearly complete.
Reinforcements
VRRMM!
Engines roared in the distance.
Armored carriers surrounded the perimeter.
Dozens of fresh soldiers poured in.
FWOO!
Then the air changed.
Heat.
Sharp.
Corrosive.
A man stepped forward from the smoke.
Military coat.
Heavy boots.
A scar across his jaw.
His eyes were cold and calculating.
"Retreating already?" he asked.
The soldiers parted for him.
He removed his gloves slowly.
PSSSH! MELT!
Acidic vapor hissed from his palms.
"I am Sergeant W.B Rigidy."
He smiled slightly.
"A Savage."
Tasao V muttered quietly,
"Of course he is."
Rigidy raised one hand.
SWIRL! SWOOSH!
A glowing sphere formed.
It wasn't simple fire.
It was compressed acidic heat — swirling, unstable, dripping energy that melted the air around it.
BOOM!
He launched it casually.
The orb struck the ground near them.
The explosion wasn't loud.
It was violent.
BRRMMM!
Concrete dissolved instantly.
BOOM! MELT!
Metal liquefied.
FWOOSHH!
The shockwave blasted outward, forcing Daito's team backward.
Zumi Caid shielded himself with gravitational distortion.
Tasao V braced.
Daito stepped forward instead.
Studying.
Calculating.
SWIRL! SWIRL! SWIRL!
Rigidy formed three more spheres.
"This isn't your territory," he said calmly.
"The NBA sends children now?"
Daito answered quietly.
"Just enough."
Rigidy's eyes sharpened.
BOM! BOM! BOM!
He hurled the spheres in rapid succession.
The courtyard became a storm of corrosive detonations.
BOOM! BANG! EXPLODE!
Stone dissolved.
Steel warped.
Heat screamed.
SLASH!
Daito cut one sphere midair.
His blade split it cleanly.
BOOM! BRRMM!
But the halves exploded outward violently, burning his jacket sleeve and scorching his arm.
So cutting wasn't safe.
Noted.
Rigidy grinned.
"Adaptive," he said. "Good."
Then he charged.
Not slow.
Not hesitant.
A Savage general moving with battlefield confidence.
The real fight had begun.
Behind them, the base burned completely.
Ahead of them stood a man wielding melting spheres.
And on Daito's back…
A briefcase containing forbidden truth about Disorder.
Still sealed.
Still waiting.
* * *
The courtyard had become a melting graveyard.
Steel sagged like wax.
Concrete bubbled.
Flames reflected off the visor of Sergeant W.B Rigidy as he rolled his shoulders slowly.
"You cut my projectile," he said. "Most men don't live long enough to try."
Daito Greyhell stepped forward, ignoring the burning sting on his arm.
"You're strong," Daito admitted.
It wasn't mockery.
It was evaluation.
Rigidy smiled slightly.
"Respect from an NBA dog?"
Daito's eyes sharpened.
"Compared to A.B.I.G.A.I.L…"
He paused.
"…you're not that scary."
The words landed heavier than any insult.
Rigidy's expression hardened.
PSSSH!
Acidic heat flared violently around his fists.
SWOOSH!
Then he moved.
Heavy Hands
Rigidy abandoned ranged attacks.
He closed distance with Savage-enhanced propulsion.
POW!
His first punch came coated in corrosive heat.
SWISH!
Daito blocked with forearm rotation — redirecting instead of absorbing.
PSSSH! MELT!
The acid grazed his sleeve, dissolving fabric instantly.
PANG!
Rigidy followed with a knee.
POW!
Daito countered with a body check.
BOOM!
The collision cratered the ground beneath them.
No elegant swordplay.
No tactics at distance.
Just fists.
Rigidy struck again — left hook.
Daito ducked and drove a shoulder into the general's ribs.
POW!
SWOOSH!
The impact echoed like a cannon blast.
Rigidy staggered half a step.
Impressive.
Very impressive.
He laughed.
"You're different from the others."
SWIRL! SWIRL!
BAAM!
He formed heat in both palms simultaneously and slammed them down.
CRASH!
The explosion launched Daito backward through a half-melted vehicle.
BOOM!
Metal wrapped around him before shattering outward.
Daito stood immediately.
Breathing steady.
Eyes calm.
He had been hit harder before.
By something far worse.
Memory of Abigail
For a split second, Daito remembered the kick.
The crater.
The broken bones.
The overwhelming gap.
Rigidy wasn't that.
Rigidy was powerful.
But not absolute.
And Daito had already survived absolute.
SWOOSH!
He charged.
No hesitation.
No theatrics.
Rigidy threw a straight punch.
Daito slipped inside the arc.
Body close.
Right hand pulled back.
This time fully healed.
Muscles aligned.
Scars tight beneath skin.
He whispered quietly—
"Let's measure."
And punched.
POW!
SWOOSH!
The shockwave detonated outward in a perfect circle.
Windows in distant buildings shattered.
The burning air split.
CRACK! CRACK!
Rigidy's chest caved inward first—
Then burst outward behind him.
BOOOF! SPLATTER!
A massive hole tore through his torso.
Clean.
Brutal.
Final.
The acidic glow around his hands flickered.
Then died.
Rigidy stumbled backward.
PSSSH!
Blood poured freely.
He looked down at the hole in his body.
Then back at Daito.
No anger.
No fear.
Just acknowledgment.
He coughed once.
"Well struck…"
His knees weakened.
"You're a true warrior."
He straightened slightly despite the wound.
"Go forward… and see what this war really is."
Then he fell.
Silence lasted two seconds.
RAT-TAT-TAT!
Then gunfire erupted.
The Cost
Enemy reinforcements had surrounded the courtyard completely.
And one of Daito's teammates had made a mistake.
Tasao V had lowered his guard after witnessing the punch.
Just one second of distraction.
BANG!
A high-caliber round pierced through his side.
Another struck his thigh.
A third exploded against his shoulder plating.
He dropped to one knee.
Zumi Caid reacted instantly — gravitational distortion warping incoming bullets.
But it was too late.
Tasao V was bleeding heavily.
Daito turned.
Eyes cold.
He had ended a general in one strike.
But the battlefield wasn't over.
The briefcase was still secured.
The base was collapsing.
Enemy numbers increasing.
GRAB!
He grabbed Tasao V by the collar and lifted him effortlessly.
"Move," Daito ordered.
BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!
Zumi C covered with collapsing gravity pulses.
Gunfire bent unnaturally midair.
Explosions erupted behind them.
Daito didn't look back at Rigidy's body.
Warriors didn't need to.
They had understood each other.
FWOOSH!
The jet roared overhead.
Extraction cables dropped.
Zumi secured first.
Tasao V barely conscious.
Daito remained last on the ground.
He looked once at the burning fortress.
Then at the hole in the general's chest across the courtyard.
Then he ascended.
Inside the jet, medics rushed to stabilize Tasao V.
"Huff...huff.."
His breathing was shallow.
Critical.
Daito sat across from him.
Silent.
Blood still dripping from his knuckles.
Zumi C stared at Daito.
Different now.
Less mockery.
More understanding.
"You're insane," Zumi muttered.
Daito replied calmly.
"No."
He looked at his right hand.
Flexed it slowly.
"I just know what stronger feels like."
And compared to A.B.I.G.A.I.L…
This was manageable.
The mission was complete.
The briefcase remained unopened.
But war had escalated.
And someone inside the NBA would soon realize—
Daito Greyhell was evolving faster than expected.
* * *
The fortress was ash.
Smoke rolled across the ruined courtyard where Sergeant W.B Rigidy had fallen.
Fwoo!
Enemy soldiers gathered what remained of their command structure.
Among them stood one man, unmoving.
Soldier Nagare.
His rifle hung loosely at his side.
His eyes were not on the crater.
They were fixed on the sky where the NBA jet had disappeared.
He had seen that face before.
Older now.
Colder.
But unmistakable.
"Daito…" he muttered.
From the same town.
Same dusty streets.
Same markets.
Same broken rooftops they used to jump between as kids.
And now—
Working for the National Biohazard Authority.
Nagare's jaw tightened.
"If your father saw this…"
His voice lowered.
"He'd be ashamed."
Rigidy was dead.
Their pillar of strength.
The one who kept their faction unified.
And the base—
Gone.
Destroyed when they were so close.
So close to unveiling the truth about Disorder.
So close to proving that the NBA wasn't the savior of humanity—
But its jailer.
Nagare clenched his fists.
Not only had Daito killed their general.
He had erased months of progress.
Possibly years.
And in doing so…
He may have destroyed humanity's chance to be free.
That could not stand.
He turned sharply toward the surviving officers.
"Send word to the Lieutenants."
The soldiers hesitated.
Nagare's voice hardened.
"Now."
A transmission unit was activated.
Encrypted.
Urgent.
When the signal connected, Nagare spoke clearly.
"We initiate retaliation protocol."
Pause.
"Target: Daito Greyhell."
Another pause.
"Location: Grimvale."
The soldiers around him stiffened.
"You're going after civilians?" one asked quietly.
Nagare didn't blink.
"We will wreck everything."
He stepped forward.
"Burn it."
"Break it."
"Level it."
"Until he shows up."
Silence.
Then—
"And when he does…"
His eyes grew colder.
"We beat him half to death."
"We make him understand what he destroyed."
"And then we force him to take us to the NBA."
One of the officers swallowed.
"That's war escalation."
Nagare nodded.
"Yes."
Far away, inside the NBA jet, Daito sat silently.
He felt it.
Not physically.
Not spiritually.
But strategically.
War never ends cleanly.
It redirects.
Zumi Caid sat across from him, arms folded.
Tasao V lay unconscious beside medics.
"Enemy morale won't recover from this easily," Zumi said.
Daito didn't respond.
He was thinking about the briefcase.
About the unopened truth.
About the look in Rigidy's eyes.
And about something else.
His mother.
His town.
The quiet streets he left behind.
Inside the underground headquarters of the National Biohazard Authority, the Boss reviewed mission footage.
He replayed the punch that tore through Rigidy's chest.
Frame by frame.
Then he smiled faintly.
"He's becoming useful."
An aide spoke carefully.
"Sir… enemy chatter indicates possible retaliation."
The Boss didn't look concerned.
"Of course."
"Let them move."
He leaned back.
"Every piece must move for the board to change."
That night, miles away from NBA territory, a small town slept under quiet skies.
Unaware.
Unprotected.
Unprepared.
And marching toward it…
Was the beginning of something far worse than a retrieval mission.
* * *
Seven days.
That was how long it took war to travel from ash to doorstep.
In the quiet town on the edge of the quarantine zones, Daito's mother stood in the small kitchen, staring at nothing.
The cup in her hand trembled slightly.
Not from age.
From instinct.
She had lived long enough beside a reckless husband to recognize the feeling.
The air before disaster.
The silence before impact.
She stepped outside.
The sky looked normal.
Too normal.
Her husband once told her:
"If the NBA ever feels threatened, they won't attack you directly."
"They'll make you choose between family and rebellion."
Her eyes hardened.
"Daito…"
She walked to the old storage shed behind the house.
Unlocked a sealed metal trunk.
Inside—
Documents.
Old communication devices.
A small firearm.
And a transmitter bearing the faded insignia of the National Biohazard Authority.
She stared at it for a long moment.
Then closed the lid.
If war was coming—
She would not be helpless.
Far from the town, in a mobile war chamber carved into steel and stone, three figures stood before a digital projection of Daito's homeland "Grimvale".
They were the Lieutenants.
Above generals.
Below ideology.
The first removed her hood.
Lieutenant Sasha Yong — tall, composed, eyes like frozen glass.
Her ability: kinetic redirection. Any force directed at her could be bent and returned amplified.
The second cracked his neck lazily.
Lieutenant Kirigaya Mooi — broad, heavy, silent.
His ability: Stone manipulation. He could control sand and stones at a molecular level with a touch.
The third smiled faintly.
Lieutenant Mira Wong— calm, unsettling.
Her ability: neural disruption. Brief eye contact allowed her to destabilize motor control and perception.
Soldier Nagare stood before them.
Soldier Nagare spoke clearly.
"He destroyed our base."
"He killed Rigidy."
"And he works for the NBA."
Sasha Yong studied the projection.
"You are certain it's him?"
"Yes."
A pause.
Then Mira asked quietly,
"Why not attack the NBA directly?"
Nagare's jaw tightened.
"Because he is the fracture point."
Kirigaya stepped forward.
"And you want to break him."
Nagare did not deny it.
Sasha nodded once.
"Very well."
She turned to the others.
"We strike in one week."
"Not to massacre."
"To provoke."
She looked at Nagare.
"If this Daito values his home…"
"He will come."
One Week Later
The morning began peacefully.
Children walked to school.
Market stalls opened.
Daito's mother stood near the window.
She didn't sit.
She didn't relax.
She waited.
Then—
The first explosion tore through the east side of town.
Windows shattered instantly.
People screamed.
A second blast collapsed a warehouse.
The ground shook violently.
Military vehicles rolled in.
Masked soldiers fanned out.
Lieutenant Kirigaya Mooi placed his palm against a building wall.
BRRMM!
The structure groaned.
Then folded inward as if gravity had tripled.
He walked calmly down the street.
Anyone who locked eyes with him stumbled, disoriented, collapsing without understanding why.
RAT-TAT-TAT!
A defensive turret fired at him from a civilian guard post.
The bullet struck.
Stopped.
Stuck in stone.
SWOOSH!
BOOM!
And sent a giant rock at triple velocity, destroying the turret entirely.
Nagare stood at the center of the chaos.
"This is your doing, Daito!" he shouted into the smoke.
"Come out!"
"Or watch it burn!"
Inside her home, Daito's mother moved quickly.
She secured neighbors into the basement shelter.
Loaded the old firearm.
RING! FWOO!
Activated the transmitter.
Her hands were steady now.
Fear had passed.
Only resolve remained.
She whispered quietly,
"You chose your path, my son…"
Outside—
BOOM!
Another explosion.
BRRMM!
Flames rising higher.
FWOO!
And above the smoke—
A distant engine sound.
Fast.
Smoke swallowed the sky.
Concrete cracked.
to be continued...