The Final Capture (Vanasagheray Trilogy Part II)

Chapter One: It's just the Beginning

The cold, sterile air of the Arclight Initiative's underground facility chilled Vanasagheray's skin as he was dragged into the operating chamber. His arms were bound tightly, his legs barely moving under the weight of his own body. His mind raced, trying to find some way to escape, but every option seemed to lead to a dead end. He had been hiding for so long, and now, in Geneva, the Initiative had finally found him.

The chamber was dimly lit, with a harsh, blinding spotlight that centered on an ominous-looking operating table in the middle of the room. The walls were lined with strange machines and tools—some for monitoring, others for extracting. Every corner of the space seemed designed to instill dread, and Vanasagheray felt it deeply.

He was thrown onto the table, his arms and legs strapped down with thick metal restraints. The tightness around his wrists and ankles cut into his skin, the sharp pain grounding him in the horrifying reality. His heart pounded in his chest, and for a moment, he could feel his powers stirring within him, trying to break free, trying to help him. But something—some form of energy suppression field around the chamber—was keeping his abilities muted.

Captain Kael Varden stood in the corner, his gaze cold and unforgiving, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "You know, Vanasagheray," Kael's voice was low, calculating, "I am thankful that you didn't surrender yourself or else it wouldn't have ended like this. And so, now we get to see what makes you so special."

Vanasagheray's jaw clenched as Kael signaled for the doctors to begin. He felt the metallic claws of the machines whirring into life, surrounding his head with an eerie hum. A long, thin needle descended slowly, hovering just above his skull. His heart raced faster as panic set in. They were going to extract his brain. His fluid brain. He couldn't believe himself. Does the government want to use him like this? Like a Guinea pig!

A sharp, biting pain shot through his skull as the needle pierced the surface, making him gasp involuntarily. It wasn't just the physical pain—it was the mental assault. He felt them probing deep into his mind, scraping at his thoughts, sifting through his memories. The sensation of losing control, of having his consciousness violated, was unbearable. It was as if they were ripping pieces of his soul away.

"You may not survive this," Kael said, his voice distant yet cruel. "But don't worry—if you're gone, your brain will live on. We'll use it. Make something great out of it. You'll be a tool, Vanasagheray. Just like you were always meant to be."

Vanasagheray's screams echoed through the chamber as the machines dug deeper, extracting the fluid from his brain, drop by agonizing drop. His body convulsed as the pain became too much to bear. He could feel his life force ebbing away, feel the energy that had once flowed so freely through him being siphoned off. His visions blurred—flashes of memories, of his parents, of his friends, of Jasper—all tangled in a chaotic whirlwind of agony.

But the worst part wasn't the physical torture. It was the voices. The whispers. The hallucinations that came as they tampered with his mind. He could hear Behemoth's voice, faint yet insidious, calling to him, taunting him. "You can't escape me, Vanasagheray," the voice hissed in the dark corners of his mind. "No matter where you run, I'll always find you."

His chest rose and fell in erratic gasps, and just as the needle prepared to take the final extraction, Vanasagheray blacked out, his mind plunging into the deepest abyss of darkness.

He jolts awake, his body trembling, drenched in sweat. The familiar ache in his head pulses, the echo of the pain still fresh. His breath comes in ragged, panicked bursts, and for a moment, he doesn't know where he is. His hands fly to his head, feeling for the needle, for the machines, but there's nothing. No restraints, no pain. Just... darkness.