Cyber Chronicles 2: Prime Voyage

Chapter 8: Present

A powerful wave of blue energy surged through the room, obliterating the boxes that had been Lincoln's refuge. The blast shattered windows with a violent crash and hurled the boxes into the air, leaving nothing behind but a chaotic mess of debris and a scorched floor. The room was engulfed in a blinding flash of light, and when it cleared, Lincoln was nowhere to be seen.

The assailant let out a guttural growl of frustration, but before he could react further, Lincoln materialized behind him with a burst of red energy. Without hesitation, he delivered a crushing kick, his foot imbued with raw, concentrated power. The force of the blow sent the robed man crashing across the room, his body slamming into the wall with a resounding crash that left a gaping hole.

With a smooth and practiced grace, Lincoln landed on the ground, blades of crimson energy extending from both of his forearms. His eyes burned with determination as he prepared for his next assault. He moved with lightning speed, a blur of motion as he charged forward, his gaze fixed on the robed figure as he readied himself for another attack.

Time seemed to slow around Lincoln as he reached his top velocity. He spun through the air in a dazzling display of agility, his blades slicing through the air with precision. He struck the attacker repeatedly, each blow a precise cut aimed at incapacitating rather than killing.

The robed figure was thrown back with a series of rapid, shimmering slashes before crashing into the wall once more, creating a small crater upon impact. Lincoln reappeared in front of him, grabbing the man by the collar and slamming him against the wall with controlled force.

As the man's hood fell back, Lincoln's eyes widened in shock. Beneath the tattered cloak was a sight that chilled him to the bone: a bald head with blue veins pulsating beneath a skull mask that covered the face. The mask's hollow eye sockets stared back at him, devoid of any sign of life. The entire scene was profoundly unsettling as if he had encountered something both alien and horrific.

Lincoln's heart raced as he realized that there was no life energy radiating from the man, a fact that explained why he had been unable to sense his approach. The man's attacks were relentless and seemed driven only by a mindless desire for destruction. "What are you?" Lincoln demanded, his voice strained as he tried to make sense of the grotesque reality before him.

The man groaned but remained silent, a low, eerie sound that resonated with the emptiness of his existence. Lincoln frowned in frustration, unsure if the man was simply refusing to speak or was physically incapable of responding.

In a surge of anger, Lincoln hurled the man across the room. The attacker crashed into a stack of boxes, sending them flying in all directions, before hitting the ground with a painful thud. Lincoln was on him in an instant, an energy blade at the ready and pressed against the man's throat. "Speak! How did you get these abilities?" he demanded, his voice a harsh whisper filled with desperation.

A troubling realization began to dawn on Lincoln. The notion of this being a zombie crossed his mind, a concept he quickly dismissed as implausible. His suspicion about the true nature of these creatures was beginning to be confirmed.

Lincoln reached out to remove the man's mask, but just as he was about to act, another sudden energy blast struck him in the waist. The force of the attack knocked him off the man, sending him tumbling across the floor. The realization that there was yet another opponent to face made him grimly aware of the escalating danger.

Lincoln rolled to avoid a series of incoming energy blasts, blinking a few meters away to regain his footing. He unsheathed the sword strapped to his back as he prepared for the next wave of attacks.

From the corner of his eye, Lincoln saw another robed figure picking up the fallen man. A flood of questions filled his mind as he braced himself for the new threat. Suddenly, a massive box came hurtling toward him, slamming into his back and sending him crashing toward the robed figures.