L*st and Death

“Just ten minutes. Ten minutes... Please, just ten minutes.”

Manu Singh muttered like a madman as he scrubbed the generator’s battery terminals with a towel. He was clearing the oxidized buildup so current could flow properly. His face was drenched in sweat, and his hands were blackened with grease, but this was no time to care about such trivial things.

With trembling hands, he cautiously flipped the generator’s main switch. The machine creaked as it sputtered to life, and the generator blades slowly began to spin. But just before he could breathe a sigh of relief, the generator stopped again.

Damn it!

Singh slammed his fist on the floor, choking down his rage. All he needed was ten minutes—just ten minutes of emergency power to feed electricity to the tower. But no matter what he did, the generator refused to stay on. It must’ve been because the eastern steel tower, used more like a storage shack than a facility, had been left neglected for too long.

Both the eastern and western towers on Lemon Island had emergency generators installed on the first floor, programmed to activate automatically the moment power was cut. These were supposed to keep critical systems running for up to fifteen minutes even during blackouts.

Singh clamped the flashlight handle between his teeth and illuminated the generator’s control panel. After a long and careful inspection, he found the problem: a blown fuse at the bottom of the panel. Muttering curses, he tore through the storage area like a lunatic until he found the right parts and replaced the damaged fuse.

This time, when he flipped the main switch, the generator powered up without issue. Exhaling in relief, Singh rushed up the stairs to use the emergency communication equipment before the battery drained again.

Today felt endless. It had been a day of one strange event after another. Isaac had suddenly regained the ability to walk without any signs of recovery. The first Omega had been born. And just as Singh grasped what that meant, a total blackout swept across Lemon Island. After barely establishing contact through the radio, Singh had learned the general situation—and only then realized Isaac had orchestrated everything to obtain the Omega.

I need to get word out. The outside world has to know what’s happening here.

As long as Hybris was alerted, they would dispatch not a ragtag squad, but a proper strike team of mercenaries who could stabilize the situation.

Singh entered the tower’s central control room and hurriedly reconnected the communications system while booting up two computers: one for emergency calls and another linked to the cloud server.

Satellite communication link initializing...

With power restored, the communications equipment gradually came online. The black screen reflected Singh’s tense expression. After several long seconds, the satellite antenna locked onto an optimal signal. At last, the information quarantine between the island and the outside world was over.

The moment he pressed the emergency call button, Singh immediately checked the cloud. Fortunately, the genetic data for Subject 3543 had successfully uploaded. But before the emergency transmission could go through, the computer suddenly powered down.

“Goddamn it!”

He couldn’t believe it. The support request had failed just seconds before connecting.

“There you are, Manu.”

The familiar voice behind him made Singh lose control. He hurled the monitor at Isaac.

“You fucking bastard! You miserable piece of shit!”

Isaac calmly approached, ignoring Manu Singh’s rabid barking like a man faced with a snarling dog. Then, bending at the waist in an exaggerated bow, he addressed the fearless, arrogant old man who always believed he could conquer him.

“Thanks to the light that illuminated the darkness, I was able to find you. You truly are the lighthouse of my life.”

Rage engulfed Singh’s entire body, contorting his face with hatred.

“You ungrateful, disgusting wretch! You shameless, filthy monster!”

Isaac listened to Singh’s curses in silence, then gave a dry laugh. His icy blue eyes sparked like flames as he sneered with false regret.

“You’re right. I am a revolting bastard. The most depraved creature you’ve ever dealt with.”

He placed one large hand gently on Singh’s shoulder, slowly brushing upward along the frail frame.

“If you ever found out how many wedding nights I’ve had, you wouldn’t even think of me as human.”

As his fingers slimily caressed Singh’s rigid face, Isaac suddenly let out a soft chuckle. That look of terror and disbelief in Singh’s eyes—it was the same expression all the other men had worn beneath him. Those who’d been sacrificed.

Looking down at the face that still held onto a flicker of resistance even in the grip of despair, Isaac gave a scoff of boredom and twisted Singh’s arm behind his back. From his pocket, he pulled out a pair of handcuffs and clamped them on.

“But I’m not really in the mood to deal with you today.”

At that moment, the power cut out again. Every light flickered and vanished. In the pitch darkness, the massive body looming over Singh looked even more monstrous.

“More than anything... I want your body and mind intact. There are far too many answers I still need from you.”

Before Siron and Baekgyeong could reach their destination, the rain began to pour in earnest, soaking them through before their hair could even dry. Every path they walked turned into a waterlogged trench or a fast-moving stream. Straining to see through the blur of wind and water, they forced their way forward step by step until they arrived near their destination.

They were headed to a rocky area about one kilometer south of the eastern tower, connected to the docks. When they arrived, a palm tree—blasted by the wind—was sprawled flat on the ground. The tree had gotten wedged between rocks and acted like a dam, blocking the flow of water so that everything beyond it had flooded chest-high.

Siron carefully stepped forward but nearly lost his balance on the slick stones and strong current.

“This isn’t gonna work. You stay here.”

Baekgyeong, who had been firmly supporting him by the arm, grabbed Siron in a protective hug and lifted him back over the palm trunk.

“The terrain’s too rough. And I can’t see a damn thing in this darkness.”

“I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

“You’ll just get in the way. Stay put.”

After forcibly detaching himself from Siron, Baekgyeong turned and continued forward. He relied on the flashlight’s flickering beam and his memory to navigate, and as the elevation rose, the water slowly disappeared.

Finally, Baekgyeong reached the place where Ian Fitzner had confessed to him. But Ian was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a raincoat tangled in a rope was flapping wildly in the wind, caught between the rocks like a shredded banner. Seeing the empty space, Baekgyeong felt... relieved.

Though he’d told himself Ian’s fate didn’t matter, a faint pang of guilt had lingered after using and discarding him. Baekgyeong crouched low to avoid being blown off the cliff by the fierce wind and approached the spot where Ian had been tied up.

The rope had been severed, strands sliced at odd angles like they’d been sawed through.

Did he have a knife?

Baekgyeong suddenly remembered: he’d only taken Ian’s phone and hadn’t thoroughly searched his body. Ian Fitzner could very well be out there right now, roaming the island with a literal knife of vengeance.

Baekgyeong stood to go search for him—but as he turned, leaning on a rock for support, a sharp sensation tore into his side. The ambush came so suddenly, he had no time to react.

Before his brain could process the attack, a flood of indescribable pain surged through his body like a tidal wave.

“You vile son of a bitch! You should die for what you did! You’re not even worth the air you breathe!”

It was Ian Fitzner. A bolt of lightning flashed in the distance, illuminating the area like a snapshot in time. For a second, the world froze—and Baekgyeong saw Ian’s pale face twisted in fury.

Ian raised the knife again and thrust toward Baekgyeong’s ribs. But this time, the blade hit bone and couldn’t go in deep. Despite the dizziness from blood loss, Baekgyeong caught Ian’s wrist in a crushing grip.

“I came to—haa—to take you with me.”

“Every word out of your mouth is a lie!”

“Fuck! I’m telling the truth!”

Ian’s hand gripping the knife and Baekgyeong’s hand gripping Ian’s arm trembled as they fought for dominance.

But even while bleeding out, Baekgyeong had the upper hand. Pushing himself to the limit, he wrenched Ian’s arm and snatched the knife away. It was a short stainless steel blade—razor-sharp and deadly.

Without hesitation, Baekgyeong hurled the knife over the cliff. Ian, roaring like a mad bull, tackled him full-force.

“Calm down! I said we’re escaping together!”

“Bullshit! You bastards planned this, didn’t you? You and him! You used me and tried to kill me! I swear I’ll slit his fucking throat!”

Ian threw a punch into Baekgyeong’s stab wound. Something deep inside burst, and he nearly vomited from the pain.

“You’re dying here tonight—but that bastard’s gonna live. I’ll keep him barely alive, make him rot in some rat hole, taking dicks until he—ngh!”

“Shut your fucking mouth!”

Baekgyeong grabbed Ian by the collar and shoved him straight over the edge. Ian flailed backward—and was swallowed whole by the black abyss.

His scream was devoured by the wind and rain. All Baekgyeong could hear now was his own ragged breathing, thundering in his ears.

He barely registered the hot blood gushing from his side. When he pressed a trembling hand to the wound, warmth soaked into his frozen palm. It had been such a long, brutal day. He’d fought desperately to delay death—but perhaps this was always meant to be his funeral.

Mist rose from the ground like it was stealing part of his soul. The feeling of rain, wind, and pain—all began to fade. In his floating, half-conscious mind, Siron’s face surfaced faintly... only to vanish once more into the pitch-dark void.

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