High above the neon city of Noxira, behind glass walls and dim lights, stood a man in a jet-black suit. His silver hair was slicked back, and his cold blue eyes scanned the digital city map on his screen.
Karos — the silent hand of Zakrota. A name rarely spoken, only whispered by those who knew too much.
Karos (quietly):
"Marco… alive. And gathering the remnants? Intriguing. This game might be worth playing after all."
A young assistant rushed into the room, clearly nervous.
Assistant:
"Sir, we've intercepted unusual activity in the eastern tunnels of Venusaa. Signal traces… match old Shadow Gang frequencies."
Karos (calmly turning around):
"That wasn't a shadow, boy…
That was a flame still burning."
---
Scene: The Training Grounds
Back at the hidden base, Marco's gang was training under the intense eye of Lucino.
Lucino:
"We move in two days. The target: a Zakrota data facility in the Northern Sector. We need maps, tech, and one hell of a plan."
Rocco:
"How about we just kick the door open and yell 'SURPRISE, ROBOT LOSERS!'?"
Luca:
"Brilliant. If we're planning a suicide mission."
Marco (grinning):
"Rocco, never stop being an idiot. It's inspiring."
Franco (serious):
"We need to think like Zakrota. Predict, adapt, and strike where they least expect it."
---
Later that evening, Franco sat alone near a dismantled drone, his fingers busy with old wires and tools. A small voice interrupted his thoughts.
Elita — a young girl who had survived the robot attack and now stayed with the gang.
Elita (softly):
"Were you scared… when you lost your family?"
Franco (quietly):
"I was terrified… and I still am. But I won't run. Not anymore."
Elita:
"I think scared people are the real heroes. They fight even when it hurts."
Franco looked at her, a genuine smile forming — the first in a long time.
---
Meanwhile…
Deep in the shadows, a small, silent drone hovered near the hideout — feeding real-time footage to Karos, who watched with cold interest.
Karos (smirking):
"So… this is Franco. The dead boy who won't stay buried."
He tapped a button. An old photograph appeared — showing a man who looked just like Franco… in military gear, from decades ago.
Karos (to himself):
"Your blood isn't clean, Franco.
It's mixed with shadows."
---
End of Chapter 8
While Marco's crew prepares to strike…
Karos tightens the web.
And Franco's past?
It's not just painful —
It might be forbidden.