Chapter 3. Rebirth.
1460 Words
Darkness.
Then a flicker of red.
[“SYSTEM BOOTING…”]
[“STATUS: DEATH CONFIRMED.”]
[“TRIGGER CONDITION: LOYALTY EXCEEDED HUMAN LIMITS.”]
[“ENGAGING: KINGMAKER PROTOCOL REVENGE LOCKED.”]
Cain gasped.
Water flooded his lungs. His arms flailed against the weight of the river dragging him under. Panic set in before instinct kicked in he kicked up hard, broke the surface, and choked on air and blood.
[“YOU HAVE BEEN RESURRECTED TEMPORARILY. DO NOT EXERT. WOUND INTEGRITY AT 19%.”]
[“HEALING ESTIMATED: 5–7 DAYS.”]
He dragged himself out of the river, trembling and half-dead. His skull ached there was still a hole in it. Every heartbeat was a spike of agony.
“Amelia…” he rasped.
Hours passed like seconds as his feet carried him across the city. When he reached his neighborhood, the sky above his home was black and thick with smoke.
His house their house was burning.
“No ” he bolted, but a burst of fire forced him back.
He collapsed to his knees on the sidewalk, eyes locked on the blaze, the sound of his pet's dying cries haunting the air. His fists pounded the ground.
He screamed. Loud. Raw. Grief that shattered everything inside.
He stayed like that long after the flames quieted. Then he forced himself inside the ruins.
Charred furniture. Ash where the nursery had been. Amelia’s favorite chair, melted into slag.
He searched like a man possessed, hoping to salvage something. A burnt picture frame. Her scarf, partially intact. A cracked bowl she once loved. He clutched them like relics from another life.
He found Amelia’s bracelet. Melted. A half-burnt picture frame of them at the beach. Their first ultrasound, edges singed.
And then Meatball. Small. Still. Curled like he’d tried to hide.
Cain fell beside the cat’s body, sobbing like a child.
[“SYSTEM ANALYSIS: USER IN MOURNING.”]
[“DIAGNOSIS: LOSS OF PARTNER, UNBORN CHILD, AND EMOTIONAL ANCHOR.”]
[“ADDITIONAL ANALYSIS: LOYALTY WAS YOUR UNDOING.”]
Cain’s breath caught. “What… are you?”
[“I am the KINGMAKER PROTOCOL. A revenge-assist system. Activated only for the most loyal dogs… betrayed by their masters.”]
Cain wiped his eyes. “And what… now?”
[“Objective: Help you rise. Tilt the balance of power. Revenge is non-optional.”]
[“This program disengages only after full mission completion.”]
“Skills…?” he asked bitterly. “What can I do?”
[“All skills are locked. They must be earned through mission progression.”]
[“Only one path forward: finish what was started. Destroy those who discarded you.”]
Cain stood on weak legs and limped into what was left of the backyard. A broken door led to a cellar beneath the ground.
He pried it open and stepped into the darkness.
Inside: a bag buried beneath bricks. Stacks of cash. Clean IDs. Everything he had saved for the future. A home for Amelia. A life for their child.
He fell to his knees, holding the bag like it was her.
“I did everything right,” he whispered. “I killed who they told me to. I kept my head down. I never asked for more. And they still threw me away.”
[“You were a tool. They don’t mourn broken tools.”]
He clenched his jaw. “Then I’ll become something they can’t ignore.”
[“First rebirth. Then we begin your training.”]
Red District – 2 Weeks Later
The Red District wasn't a place people went to start over. It was where people went to vanish.
Cain stepped into the rented flat, tiny, dim, but enough.
His presence was quiet but thick. Men tried to mess with him early on. Didn’t try again.
One girl, about twenty, working the district, had been cornered in an alley the day Cain arrived. He didn’t speak. He just stepped in and twisted the attacker's wrist until it snapped. No threats. No words.
Just silence and steel.
After that, she started leaving meals by his door.
Cain kept training.
Every morning, he skipped rope in the cramped space shirtless, air pods in, sweat soaking into the floor.
Today, the bass dropped mid-song. The rhythm pulsed like a heartbeat. His breathing synced with it.
Then came the memories.
Amelia, giggling as she danced barefoot across the kitchen tiles.
Her voice "Cain, don’t forget to breathe when you’re mad."
Her hand on his jaw “Be better than this world. Please.”
And the baby bump.
The rope slowed. His hands dropped. He stood still for a moment, chest heaving.
He walked to the table, picked up the rice the girl had left, and ate quietly.
That night, the system beeped.
[ “MISSION UNLOCKED: INFILTRATE CARGO SHIP – [CLASSIFIED OBJECTIVE]”
[ “DIFFICULTY: MEDIUM.”]
[ “REWARD: LOYALTY BAR (SKILL)”]
[ “NOTE: HIDDEN MISSION – REQUIREMENTS UNDISCLOSED.”]
Cain zipped the gun into his duffel bag.
[ “NEW IDENTITY CREATED: VINCENT SABLE.”]
No trace. No past. Only fire.
He pulled on the gloves and whispered, “Let’s begin.”
Cain’s boots made soft thuds on the creaking wooden planks of the dock, his breath visible in the cool night air. The system’s map flickered faintly in his vision, lighting the path through the maze of containers. He’d followed it like clockwork for ten minutes, but now the directions vanished without a word.
No more guidance. Proceed carefully.
His pulse quickened not from fear, but from the weight of uncertainty.
Ahead, shadows shifted.
Cain froze, barely daring to breathe.
A tall figure emerged, moving with the casual confidence of a man who owned this place. It was Milo.
The flood of memories hit him like a punch childhood rides in Alucard’s car, stolen moments of laughter, a brotherhood forged in broken places. Milo, the one person Cain thought he could still trust.
His heart clenched, tight and heavy.
‘It’s Milo, I could trust him. He’ll be on my side once he learns the truth.’
As the workers evacuated the room, Milo halted on his tracks.
Milo’s sharp eyes scanned the empty dock, then locked onto Cain’s hiding spot. “Come out,” he said, voice low, cautious.
Cain stepped forward without hesitation and a bright smile on his face, one he thought he had lost, “It’s me, Milo.”
Milo’s eyes widened, disbelief etching his face. “Cain... I thought you were dead. Alucard told me ”
“I’m not dead,” Cain said, voice cracking with emotion. Tears welled up, blurring his vision. The floodgate opened, pain, anger, exhaustion all pouring out in silent sobs. He hadn’t cried like this since the day Amelia died.
Milo didn’t move, didn’t speak. He just watched, his jaw tight before embracing him warmly as if he felt the weight of his sorrow.
When Cain finally stilled, Milo’s voice softened, “Come inside. Let’s get you something to eat.”
Inside the cramped room, the smell of old wood and spilled liquor hung heavy. Milo offered a meal, simple bread and cheese but Cain hardly touched it. Instead, he told the story Alucard’s betrayal, the fire that swallowed his home, Amelia’s screams, the system that kept him tethered to this world.
“How can I help?” Milo’s voice was steady but tinged with pain, like he carried a weight Cain hadn’t seen.
Cain opened his mouth to speak, but Milo’s phone buzzed sharply. He glanced at it, then stood abruptly. “I have to take this. Wait here.”
Left alone, Cain’s eyes drifted across the cluttered room until they landed on a folder partially hidden beneath the table.
Curiosity clawed at him, but a cold dread settled in his gut.
He pulled out the folder.
Inside were names, dates, orders the truth staring back.
Milo had been the one to clean up after Cain’s ‘death.’ The one who’d tossed him into the sea, was in fact, Milo!
The system chimed softly in his ear.
[Secret mission unlocked.
Option 1: Kill Milo and take control of the dock.
Option 2: Spare him and lose promotion and Loyalty Bar skill.]
Cain’s breath hitched.
He looked at the door Milo had just closed behind him, the weight of choice pressing down like a stone on his chest.
His hand trembled.
The brother he thought he’d found or the enemy he must become.
He swallowed hard.
The system waited.
Cain closed his eyes, whispering, “What is this?”
- Writer
