Chapter 2: Shadows in the Cellar

The basement was silent now. The flickering light from a broken bulb above gave off a weak glow, barely lighting up the narrow stairwell. It was like the horror Nathan had witnessed earlier was something even the world wanted to forget. But Nathan couldn’t forget. He knew he never would.

He sat slumped against the cold cement wall, breathing heavily. His body was shaking, soaked in sweat. His heart pounded like a drum, each beat reminding him of what he had just seen. His eyes were wide and blank, haunted by the memories that wouldn’t stop replaying in his mind. Images of the bloody scene, the mutilated bodies, and the screams kept flashing through his head. Nathan had always noticed details others missed, but now it felt like a curse. Every detail burned into his memory—every bruise, every tear, every cry.

Across from him, the man who had rescued him moved with a calm, steady pace. He looked to be in his early forties, though the look in his stormy eyes hinted at years of surviving dangerous situations. His face was tough and lined, with an expression that showed he had seen more than most. His short hair was a mix of black and gray, slicked back with military precision. He wore a long, heavy coat that brushed the tops of his boots and was layered with reinforced padding. This wasn’t a man who stumbled across Nathan by chance. He looked like someone who had been waiting for this moment for a long time.

“You handled it better than I expected,” the man said in a deep, rough voice. He walked over to a metal table full of random tools, maps, and old papers yellowed by age. “Most people would’ve broken down.”

Nathan didn’t respond. His mind was spinning with one question: Why did this happen? His lips trembled, not from fear, but from the storm of thoughts battling inside him.

The man continued, turning on an old lamp with a cracked shade. It lit the room in a warm yellow glow and cast strange shadows on the wall—shadows that danced like ghosts in the dim light.

“Name’s Corvus. That’s all you need to know for now.”

Nathan looked up, still dazed. “Why… why did you save me?”

Corvus poured water from a dented steel pitcher into a glass and handed it over. Nathan took it with shaky hands and drank. His throat was dry and burning.

“Because,” Corvus said, leaning back, “I’ve been watching you for a very long time. Since before you were even born.”

Nathan’s hand slipped, and the glass hit the ground with a clink. His heart skipped a beat.

“What are you talking about?”

Corvus met his eyes. “Your mom—every time she went for a checkup when she was pregnant with you—was being watched. Tested. She didn’t know it, but that clinic was part of a secret program run by the government. They wanted to create enhanced humans.”

Nathan pressed his back to the wall as the room seemed to spin. The words felt heavy and unreal.

“You’re one of the few who made it through the program. Not just made it—you excelled. Your quick reflexes, sharp senses, and strong muscles—they weren’t just natural. They were designed.”

Nathan turned his head, breathing fast. It was too much.

“My family…?”

“Collateral damage,” Corvus said, voice grim. “They were going to take you quietly. But you grew too strong too fast. They panicked and attacked early. The goal was to break you down and take control.”

Nathan clenched his fists, his stomach turning. “They were laughing,” he whispered. “Like it was a joke.”

Corvus nodded. “To them, it was. You’re not a person to them. Just a tool. And now that they failed to get you, you’re a problem.”

Nathan stood up suddenly. His legs were shaky but held firm. “Who are they? Tell me.”

Corvus didn’t move. “Not yet.”

“Why not?! I need to know!”

“Because you’d charge out there and die within the hour. That’s not justice. That’s a waste.”

Nathan’s jaw tightened. His emotions—anger, sadness, guilt—all swirled inside.

Corvus took a step forward. “You want to do something about it? Or are you going to hide again, like you did before? Run away and leave them behind?”

That hit Nathan hard. His breath caught in his throat.

Corvus nodded. “That fire in you—it can be used. You have potential, but you’re not ready. You’ve never trained. Never seen the real world beneath the surface. That changes today.”

Nathan took a deep breath. His thoughts were starting to focus. The fog of grief was slowly clearing, and behind it was something sharper: purpose.

“Will you train me?”

Corvus gave a small smile. “Only if you’re ready to let go of who you used to be. That boy you were—he didn’t make it out of that basement.”

Nathan stepped forward. His shoulders straightened. His jaw set.

“Then let’s start. I’m ready.”

Corvus walked to a steel door at the back of the room. “Follow me.”

The door creaked open. Behind it was a maze of old hallways beneath the city. Brick walls, rusted pipes, and old grates stretched into the dark. Faint graffiti marked some of the walls—messages from those who came before. As they walked, Corvus explained things—escape routes, places to hide, spots to defend. This wasn’t just a shelter. It was a training ground, a forgotten world beneath the surface.

They passed other people—quiet, watchful, each carrying the weight of their own story. A woman with robotic arms worked at a computer, screens flashing complex code. A teen flipped knives with perfect aim. These weren’t ordinary people. They were fighters. Survivors.

A thin man with tattoos on his neck gave Nathan a quick glance. “The cub enters the den,” he said softly, then vanished into the shadows.

“That’s Marek,” Corvus said. “He sees more than you’d expect. Trust him.”

Another person stepped out of a dark room. A tall woman with burn scars on her face and a metal jaw stared hard at Nathan.

“This the new one?” she asked. Her voice was robotic but strong.

Corvus nodded. “Yeah.”

“Hope he doesn’t end up like the last.”

Nathan shivered.

“You’ll train with her later,” Corvus said. “Her name’s Raze. One of the best we’ve got.”

They entered a large room. The floor was covered in training mats. Targets lined the walls. It looked like a small arena. Up above, guards with rifles watched from scaffolding.

Trainees were scattered throughout. A boy with two different-colored eyes practiced deep breathing. Two sisters fought with wooden staffs. A tech expert named Lio worked fast at a keyboard, pulling up blueprints titled “Project: Ardent Halo.”

A quiet figure sat cross-legged in a corner, blindfolded, listening to whispered voices no one else seemed to hear. Corvus nodded toward him. “That’s Venn. Don’t ask questions unless you want riddles for answers.”

Near the far wall stood a group gathered around a large holographic map. One of them, a woman with pale eyes and dark skin, noticed Nathan and gave him a nod. Her name was Sil, a strategist known for predicting enemy moves before they happen. Next to her stood Camber, a massive man with cybernetic legs who never spoke, only communicated through a handheld device that buzzed and clicked with coded signals.

Corvus stopped in the center and turned to Nathan. “This is where you’ll bleed. And where you’ll grow.”

Nathan looked around. His face was serious now. He was surrounded by the broken, the hardened, and the gifted. He was one of them now.

He was ready.