Chapter 1
The sound of footsteps ricocheted off the hollow walls of the silent corridor as a woman, veiled in a long lab coat, approached the door marked ‘Dr. Hopper.’ She knocked twice, a short pause in between, until the door opened slightly, and the head of another woman appeared in the gap.
“Dr. Roseline,” the woman spoke softly, carefully lowering her glasses onto the bridge of her nose. “How may I help you?”
Dr. Roseline held out a notepad, the edge of the paper slightly creased. “Mr. Charpentier requested me to hand this to you. I have no idea what is inside.”
Dr. Hopper took the pad, slipped her glasses back on, and began reviewing the pages. “You may leave, Louise,” Dr. Hopper whispered, her eyes glued to the notes. “Oh, and please share my gratefulness with Mr. Charpentier about this.”
Dr. Roseline nodded and walked away.
Dr. Hopper closed the door slowly and placed the notepad beside her keyboard. She turned and began to slowly type, her long, spindly fingers clicking each key with care. After a moment, she pulled her hands away, a small smile touching her lips as she reviewed her work.
She got up from her chair and walked over towards the water dispenser. As she placed a cup underneath the spout, she felt a sharp, sudden sting in the side of her body—a quick, furtive jab she hadn’t seen coming.
As the water slowly poured into her cup, her eyes began to sting, and the strength in her body diminished rapidly. The cup clattered onto the ground, water gushing out. Dr. Hopper fell back, her head crashing to the floor, her body following the impact.
She looked over for help, but all that was there to accompany her was the silence. Her gaze fell to her waist—the main source of her pain—where she saw a long, thick syringe sticking out. The liquid inside was slowly reducing. With her last bit of strength, she pulled it out and flung it to the side. Her head spun, her vision slowly giving in to the poison, until she collapsed completely, her vision blackening.
“Grab her, let’s move!” a loud voice boomed.
Four men burst into the laboratory. They wore sharply tailored, expensive-looking black suits of fine wool over crisp white shirts, giving them a menacing, organized look. Small, abstract silver pins were fixed to their lapels, and platinum watches glinted on each of their wrists.
They lifted Dr. Hopper by her head and legs and carried her out of the room as sirens began to blare loudly.
The man in front held a large rifle, his eyes scanning for any threats. “Keep moving, go, go!”
The men hurried through the darkness, the weight of their formal attire beginning to hinder them.
“Allen, we have to take a break,” groaned one of the soldiers.
The soldier with the rifle—Allen—turned to face the others. “If we stop, they will come and shoot us dead. We must keep moving. She is the only one who can create it. We cannot let them get her.”
“They are over there! Get ’em!” boomed another voice from across the hallway. Gunshots began to fire, each shell bouncing off the walls.
“We gotta move!” Allen shouted, firing back and managing to land a few shots, taking a few of the chasers down.
The group continued to scurry out of the building until they finally found the exit.
“ALLEN, IT’S A MINE!” screamed one of the men.
Allen looked back just before a short tick set off the mine. The men flew backward as the blast tore Allen into pieces.
One of the men chasing them slid across the ground and grabbed Allen’s rifle. He and his gang surrounded the remaining suited men.
“Where did you think you were going with the lady? Trying to escape? I thought Allen would be smarter than to step on one of the mines he placed.” Mr. Charpentier scoffed, swinging his long blonde hair back.
The rest of Allen’s men faced Mr. Charpentier with disgusted looks. The one on the right, tall and slim, slowly faced the one to the left.
“Ay! Eyes on me, bucko!” shouted Mr. Charpentier.
The man on the right pulled out a pistol and slid it across to the one in the middle, who stood up and pointed it at Dr. Hopper’s head.
“Careful now, Charpentier. Don’t want me blowing out her brains, do you? Now I suggest you drop your weapons and we can settle this over a nice cup of tea. What do you say?”
Mr. Charpentier laughed, then faced the man in the middle. “Smart boy,” he smirked. “Knows how to stay alive, don’t you? Now how about you put her down and drop your weapon as well?”
The man in the middle dropped his weapon and Dr. Hopper, both falling to the ground with a loud thud. Mr. Charpentier’s face was filled with laughter and sarcasm.
“So, what is it that you want?” Mr. Charpentier questioned.
“For you not to create Altruize 01,” spoke the man in the middle. “Alas, that’s what Allen wanted.”
“Well, you’re not Allen, are you? So, what do you want in exchange for Dr. Hopper?” asked Mr. Charpentier.
The man pondered for a moment. “Power... And lots of it.”
Mr. Charpentier chuckled. “Wise man. And let me tell you something.”
“What?” asked the man in the middle.
“That is why Allen is dead right now: because he had no power. Whereas for you, if you bond an alliance with me, I can give you all the power you would want. How does that sound?”
The man thought about it for a moment. The man on the right grabbed his shoulder. “Do not listen to him; we must go through with the mission.”
The man in the middle turned back at Mr. Charpentier. “Hand me the gun.”
Mr. Charpentier chuckled and tossed him a pistol. The man in the middle turned back at the other men and began to fire until everyone was on the ground. He turned back at Mr. Charpentier, who was smiling, and tossed him back the gun.
“So, I’m guessing we’re a team now, then, huh?” Mr. Charpentier asked, sticking out a hand. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Niels Shruuger.” He grabbed the hand and shook it.
“Where do we start?”
“Well, we can first try and help Dr. Hopper back to her feet,” spoke Mr. Charpentier.
They both looked over at Dr. Hopper, who lay motionless on the ground as they spoke.
