(Hamilton, Michael's apartment building, moments after the explosion.)
Seconds after the explosion, Jack awoke with a gasp, his eyes snapping open. He found himself in the room filled with dust and debris, the air thick with the acrid smell of smoke and burnt plaster. Disoriented, he sat up, his head throbbing. He looked around, bewildered. The apartment was a wreck – furniture overturned, glass shattered, the walls riddled with cracks. How… how was he still alive?
He remembered the blinding light, the deafening explosion… and then nothing. He tried to recall the events leading up to it, but his memory was hazy, fragmented. He remembered the figure, the violence, the chilling fear that had gripped him… and then… nothing.
Jack scrambled to his feet, his body aching. He stumbled towards the window, peering out into the street. The scene below was chaotic – emergency vehicles were arriving, sirens wailing, people were milling about, their faces etched with shock and concern.
He turned back to the apartment, his gaze falling upon the scene of destruction. The furniture was strewn across the room, a testament to the ferocity of the explosion. He looked for any signs of Ivy or Michael, but there was nothing. No bodies, no traces of their existence.
Just as he was about to step over the debris, a voice cut through the silence. "Quite a mess you got yourself in, Jack."
Jack whirled around, his hand instinctively reaching for the non-existent weapon at his side. Standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with an amused expression, was a man he had never seen before. He was tall and lean, had piercing white glowing iris eyes, wears an elaborate black lounge and has a mischievous glint in his smile.
Jack: Who... Who are you. (He asks the man in suit, watching him cautiously as the man walks around the destroyed room with his arms behind his back.)
"Having a case of the amensia, aye" The man smiled.
Jack: (The man started taking steps towards him but gets stopped by Jack saying) Stop! Don't... take another step.
"Seriously?" The man sighed irritated before a scoff leaves his mouth, "Jack, it's me, Henry."
Jack: I... I-I don't know you, man.
Henry: Really? Well... That's a bummer. (He turned his aside and hears the Soldiers approaching up the 5th level floor they in.) The inhumans are coming. You need to come with me, Jack.
Jack: I can get myself outta here, thank you very much.
Henry: I know you can. But... you see, I need you to come with me because it is I that needs YOUR help.
Jack: Yeah, with what?
Henry: Finding, Revan. The man who... (He hand gestured to their surroundings before continuing,) did all of this.
Jack: Revan? So that's his name...
Henry: Indeed... And he has a motive. And that motive will bring an end to creation.
Before Jack could ask a question, the sounds of approaching soldiers grew louder. Henry sighed.
Henry: hmm... (He grunted) I'm sure you aware of the enhanced humans that wear grey?
Jack: Yeah... Yeah, the enforcers. What about them?
Henry: Those footsteps we hearing are theirs and they will restrain you if you don't come with me NOW.
Jack: (He hesitated, not trusting this Henry guy.) I... Why should I go with you? What is it that you can do that can help me deal Revan too?
Henry: Uh, to save the entire world. And not even the world but EVERY world, dimension... heaven, hell and more, Jackson.
Jack: Jackson?
Just then the enforcers burst into the room, their rifles raised and before Jack could react, Henry snaps his fingers. Time seemed to stop. The inhumans froze mid-stride, their weapons suspended in the air. Even the dust motes hung still.
Jack stared in disbelief. Henry casually walked past the frozen soldiers, waving his hand dismissively as he examined them. He then turned back to Jack, a thoughtful expression on his face.
Henry: Impressive, I know. Now, where were we?
Jack's brows furrowed in wonder.
Jack: Who… what are you?
Henry: I'm just a man in a suit.
Jack: I can see that i meant WHAT are you? A mutant? Deity?
Henry: Mmm... A god.
Jack: Okay... Well thanks for saving me from the explosion, by the way.
Henry: Saved you? I did no such thing, dear boy.
Jack: Seriously?
Henry: Yes. That was all Revan's doing, in a roundabout way. He can only kill those on his list, you see. Guess you weren't on it or you coming later on. Lucky you.
Jack looked down, a wave of relief washing over him, but then he remembered Ivy and Kyle.
Jack: ...W-What about my friends? Ivy and Kyle?
Henry: Alive... Well not at the moment, they dead. Revan can only permanently kill targets on his list. Any thing or any one else that he has killed will be brought back to life. Michael Cage, your friend was on the list.
Jack's face fell.
Jack: Why?
Henry took a step closer.
Henry: Because it is Revan's "job".
Henry: Michael Cage was one of the People that's NOT suppose to exist. Because their existence cause others to die on random occasions and the universe hates that...
Henry: Now Usually... it's the reapers which are creations of death are the ones that become death. Now in this case... it's a human. And that. Is. Strange...
Jack: This... is alot to take in...
Henry: It shouldn't be... especially for you.
Jack looked at Henry in confusion before the tip of Henry's finger was on his forehead.
Jack: What are you.... (Gasps.)
In an instant, Jack inhaled sharply, his eyes rolling upwards. He felt himself falling endlessly through a swirling tunnel of white, purple, and black streaks, before being engulfed by a blinding light.
Moments later, Jack gasped, finding himself lying on a grey field under a dark grey sky, a deep green fog swirling around him. He stood up, bewildered.
Jack: urgh... Where… where am I?
Henry's voice echoed around him. "In your mind, Jack."
Jack looked around at the empty landscape. "Jesus… my mind can't be this empty."
Henry snapped his fingers, and large, glitching cracks distorted the grey landscape. "Oh, it's not... shouldn't be. I fear someone has been doing some… renovations." Henry muttered something under his breath. "Zyr, you clever bugger."
Jack: Zyr? Who's that?
Henry: A man with… godly power. Your memories, Jack, they've been hidden. Replaced.
Jack: By Zyr?
Henry: Not Zyr himself, no. Someone else. Or… maybe Zyr, yes. Look, there's a possibility you know something that makes you dangerous. Why else would someone go to all this trouble? And is your name really Jack Drake? Honestly, I don't know anymore.
Jack: How do I get my memories back?
Henry: That's for you to figure out. Trust your instincts. Don't die. Trust nothing. Delve deep. Oh, and try not to BREAK anything.
Jack grimaced, clutching his head as violent visions flashed before his eyes – stabbings, explosions, bodily combustions, screams of agony echoing in his ears. He vomited, collapsing to his knees.
Jack: So many deaths… screams… How am I supposed to remember anything if you won't tell me?
Henry: Right. Learn to trust your instincts. Don't die. Trust nothing and focus on delving deep into the recesses of your mind. (He turned around to leave but turned back around.) Oh, and try not to BREAK anything.
Jack: What happens when I remember everything?
Henry: You'll know what to do. (He paused, his eyes gleaming with an almost predatory glint.) It'll take a while… a long one. You need to remember… who you truly are.
With a snap of his fingers, Henry vanished. Jack was left alone in the eerie landscape as shadowy, decaying figures emerged from the mist, their blue eyes glowing menacingly. He felt a wave of terror.
Meanwhile, back in the apartment, the soldiers stormed into the apartment, their rifles raised. They swept the room, their eyes scanning for any sign of survivors. However, they found nothing.
"Clear!" one of the soldiers reported.
The commander, Martin, a grim-faced man with piercing eyes, surveyed the scene. The apartment was a wreck, furniture overturned, glass shattered, the air thick with the smell of smoke and burnt plaster.
Martin: Search for any survivors, (he ordered.)
The soldiers began their search, meticulously examining every inch of the apartment. One of them, a young soldier with wide, frightened eyes, pulled out a small, handheld device and began scanning the room.
The young soldier's device beeped, its small screen displaying faint energy signatures. His eyes widened slightly as he looked at the readings.
Young Soldier: Commander! I'm getting… three distinct traces here. Two mutant signatures, and… one that reads as Elven.
Martin, who was examining a section of the wall with scorch marks, turned sharply. "Three traces? Are you sure?"
Young Soldier: Positive, sir. Two mutants, one Elf.
Martin frowned. "But we only secured two individuals at the facility… Macher and Sinclair. What happened to the third?"
The young soldier shrugged, his gaze sweeping over the destroyed apartment. "No idea, sir. They're not here now."
Just then, another soldier called out from near what was left of the living room area.
Soldier 2: Commander! Over here!
Martin strode over to the soldier, his expression hardening. Lying amidst the debris, completely naked and unconscious, was Ivy. Her elven features were unmistakable even in her vulnerable state.
Martin's eyes narrowed, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. He didn't linger, his gaze brief but intense.
Martin: Take the Elf. Now. And find them all!
He turned and left the apartment, his mind racing on finding each and everyone involved in this before his surroundings fade into a dark blur and a low resonant tone of a man reaches out to him in thought.
???: Have you found them, Martin?
The commander's eyes wide, his heart began racing, he was in fear, as he stood still in the middle of the hallway and answered his master, "Yes, master. However... only one remains alive..."
???: Only one...? Interesting... Bring them in for questioning.
Martin: W-Will do, master....
His surroundings turn back to normal and he immediately leans forward onto a nearby wall, breathing heavily in relief that the talk was over. A soldier walks up to Martin to report to him but Martin cuts him off Immediately, "Lets head back outside..." he said before he headed down the staircase in a hurry with the rest of team 1 following behind.