Soothing hums of still water supply as the base beneath the melodic breeze of cold air. Abundant silence, the serenity of solitude, reflects off a vast blanket of dimly lit water, seemingly stretching eternally given no clear borders.

Beyond the black horizon is an ominous void, for the ruling shadows sheath all in the distance. It’s as though there was nothing far past, and yet at the same time, there was everything. The lack of clairvoyance left ample to the imagination, yet nothing at all, confined to a perpetuated state of perplexion, isolated in a cold chamber abandoned from the outside world till there is no reference to substitute the void with.

Above the abyss and waters, high up in the eternal night are countless chrome disks, hovering without a surface. The disks exude gentle illumination of a blue hue from below, stationary as they cast the soft light into the lake underneath. The disks vary in size, petite and titanic, with a particular gargantuan one residing in the center of a cluster.

Surpassing the disks is the ceiling of this cutoff cavity, a ceiling that protrudes a substantial swarm of stalactites, an infinite array that dots the entire ceiling for as far as visible given the low light from the disks. The colossal stalactites point down at the disks, varying in size but generally extensive. Their tips razor-sharp, the horde seem to stretch far beyond the chasm, some even extending to the level of some disks.

The disks are full of an assortment of equipment ranging from hovering tables and machinery of boundless diversity, odd chambers fit perfectly to house a patient and stange mechanical stations with different devices connected in a network of tubes.

Some of the disks appear to have small cages enclosed with translucent blue walls reminiscent of a prison while others have commodious contraptions covered with capsules containing chemicals of copious colors.

The central disk houses several white curved tables, with four along the outer quadrants and another four surrounding the origin. There also appears to be other constructs on the pad, other chambers and boxes. Projecting from the four central tables are tall holographic screens that fully entrap the origin.

Within the confinement, in the very origin of the pad is a hovering chair with flint cushioning, and seated on that chair is the man in the leather jacket, observing the screens.

Soft breaths release from the man’s breaths, pacific yet intent, his four distant white locks of hair resting against the side and back of his pale head, reaching down to his shoulders.

His oceanic blue eyes observe the screen in perdurable contemplation, his darkened bags below his eyes carrying wrinkles of skin.

Surrounding him, the encapsulating screens display images of colored maps, images of symbols and buildings, a particularly low yet enormous one in the middle of the desert, and portraits of a vast array of people. Many of these images seem linked with virtual red string to databases with lists of miniscule text, with those rectangular databases being linked with other windows containing more illegible text.

In front of the man are several windows displaying videos in play, exhibiting footage of brawls familiar to him, with one being within the bar earlier the other day against the armed forces, and the other being within the house later that same day against the empowered marauders. All of the footage is shot from a first-person perspective, seemingly the man himself, recounting the various injuries he both dealt and suffered.

The footage reflects off the optical canvas, the lens which he stares through as he examines and analyzes his own memories replayed.

After humming softly to himself, he denotes, “These past couple months have been far more intense, from both sides. The wildtypes have been employing far stronger equipment like that dagger that pierced my armor, but the mutants seem to be getting tougher too, not only are their damage outputs greater but they’re far more refined than they once were…. For the humans, I already noticed them starting to take more land with facility production, I’ve been stalking them for a while now and I noticed a sudden push. In fact it was likely my hubris alone that let me get stabbed, but for the Exhumans…I’m not so sure what they’re doing differently…why they’ve been getting so much stronger.”

In response, the familiar British male voice speaks into the man’s head, mentioning, “Well, perhaps it’s because they’re getting older, relatively speaking most Exhumans are able to access their abilities from childhood, some cases as soon as infancy. They may also be investing in better training equipment or their trainers are improving.”

The man hums again before shaking his head and rejecting, “No…it hasn’t been that long, this improvement feels too exponential to be chalked up to experience or training.”

The British voice retorts sarcastically, “Hmm, is it impossible for Exhumans to become stronger and focused with training and age? I feel like that claim is rather uncanny coming from you.”

The man sighs from the playful attitude before asserting, “You know what I’m talking about, this process has a predominately steady growth. Yes, some bloom before others, alignment rates differ from case to case, yes, but all of this change at once across the board is far too suspicious to be ignored and seen as something natural.”

He then stands up, the chair being pushed back as he approaches the table. He grips the edge of the table while peering closer at the footage of Victor, his previous opponent, observing the masterful movement and striking during their chase.

Continuing, he ponders, “I have a plan on how to cripple the humans, but I don’t know how to deal with this other threat. They’ve become more dangerous than I previously anticipated, I wouldn’t have expected individuals to pose a threat themselves to me. Honestly, I believe I would’ve regardless dealt with the squad yesterday fine on my own, but still, even if I did manage to, the match wouldn’t have been in my favor.”

The British voice sighs before articulating a counter thesis, “Or perhaps it’s a matter of perspective, rather than them becoming stronger, you’re becoming weaker. Your decay too is exponential, every fight will be more difficult than the last regardless of if the enemies are evolving or not. I digress, that reminds me, should you really be abandoning your guests and leaving their care to Dana? That’s quite an inhospitable move for a host, even if I don’t believe Dana will retaliate against you, you burdened her quite heavily.”

The man glances behind his back for a moment as though confirming his solitudinal state before returning his gaze to the screens. Below him, the chrome surface reflects the sight of the countless stalactites, all of their refined blades aiming down at the mortal man who takes residency in its habitat.

He quarrels apathetically, “They are not guests, they’re refugees, using my house as shelter to stay safe while I deal with this threat. Dana has the greatest comprehension of the building’s layout second to me, she is the most fit to keep after the two. Even then, her task is simple, neither of the two pose a threat to her. The man, whilst deranged and armed, is no match for Dana even without her cybernetic arsenal, and the girl too is too novice, while I admit her abilities are themselves vicious, her lack of stamina would fail her in a battle of attrition, one I don’t doubt Dana could last through. Even if both of them attempted to assault her, she would easily subdue them.”

The British voice attempts to clarify, “I…wasn’t trying to infer that a combative scenario would take place, and even if it were to, I agree that such scenario’s result would lead to Dana’s victory with minor injuries. What I meant to say was,-”

“Sounds like we’re on the same page then, there’s no need to be concerned over her or the others. Now, I would prefer if we could shift focus to the pressing matters and concentrate on the true mission. Can you do that for me?” interjects the man callously.

First releasing a defeated sigh, the voice surrenders, “Very well, I apologize for inconveniencing you. I will assist you as you desire.”

With the attempted divergence having been snipped, the man steps back from the table, turning around to observe the windows displaying images of buildings, many of them having the similar appearances of being low to the ground and consuming wide portions of land, similar to the layout of a military base.

While the buildings have generally the same architectural design, they seem to be designated in a variety of biomes, from luscious forestation to barren deserts, and the coating of the facility exteriors seem to match the biome with predominantly brown and green coloring within the forests and golden finishes for the desert bases.

Rapid contact between the man’s right thumb and middle finger seem to imply him being entangled in his thoughts as he steps towards the images, his cold eyes contracting, focusing as he draws a plan, anything to make use of his time.

“Well, I’ll need more time to think over what sort of strategy I should make against the Exhumans, but I should also keep attention for the other side. It’s clear that both sides are suddenly making stronger pushes to grow themselves exponentially, we’re getting closer now to a full scale battle if this keeps up. The humans get their power from their facilities, it’s where they contain all their weapons and people. I’ve even noticed some seem to begin implementing manufacturing equipment; I guess it’s only natural, most anti-Exhuman weapons used by proper military and other enforcement organizations are focused on neutralization, not assassination. I don’t think even using Anti-Exmatter is enough for them…but at least that means that if we can extinguish their production, that will stagger them greater than before. I’ve got my work cut out for tonight: I need to do more scouting, better analysis of routines, most optimal deployment zones, best paths for sabotage. Arsenals should be the highest priority, reaching them first will prohibit the enemies from obtaining more lethal arms but will also give me an advantage to maximize damage. But they’ve been getting smarter and more creative with where they’ve been putting those, I can’t just rely on basic blueprints anymore, I need to find them myself.”

Stepping back towards the center, the man continues to formulate, “Once I can map out their foundation, I can deal with them realistically. However, I believe I should spend some time modifying my own arsenal, especially when I go up against the Exhumans. Even if I do discover the source to their rapid evolution, that doesn’t detract from the harsher resistance they’ll put against me, so regardless I’ll need to be prepared for them.”

The man places his right hand under his chin, turning around before inquiring, “Would it be a good idea to begin implementing more Anti-Exmatter variations of tactical abilities for wide-scale countervail? Potentially ones with greater omnidirectional effect, that may help increase efficiency in raids. That shouldn’t be too difficult anyways, seeing how we’ve streamlined it to an energy state, thus it should be possible to have it as a viable substitute to my regular ammunitionary solution.”

After a few moments of silent thought, the voice answers, “That should be possible, yes. Besides, reliance on a few negation methods will lead to greater difficulty when dealing with multiple adaptable targets. I will open a protocol for those conversions now, that will be more technical-oriented thus doesn’t require your full attention, I can handle it.”

A soft gust of wind carries the man’s white locks to the side for a few moments, and he nods his head before softly accepting, “Very well, thank you. I’m going to check up on the LSCM laboratory now, now’s a good time.”

The breeze having passed, the white locks drift back down as the man turns around and begins walking towards one of the openings between the curved tables. As he walks, the screens remain projecting, maintaining the border that he walks straight through, as though phasing between barriers.

Reaching past the central hub, the man approaches the pad’s edge, to which a bridge of blue luminescence projects from the edge in front of him, connecting to one of the other pad’s afar. The singular layer lacks any railing, and is rather narrow, wide enough to give some leeway to a single person but would become dangerous having two people beside each other.

Devoid of perturbation, he takes a step onto the holobridge, which supports his weight. He continues his stroll up the inclined bridge, for it seems the prodigious pad that he inhabited was one of the lowest amongst the cluster, as the others remain above him.

Every step triggers a reactionary audible feedback similar to that of a bungee cord’s bounce, which reverberates throughout the vast cavern.

Below the man solely being supported by the holographic bridge projection is the expansive lake below, which reflects a soft shine of blue. The lake has no visible floor as though a bottomless pit, stalking silently like a calm venus fly trap waiting for an unsuspecting prey to fly right into its mouth. Its own calm base is overwhelmed by the footsteps of the man, although the reverberations don’t seem to bother the flat surface layer of water.

In the extensive caverns filled with deadly stalactites and unforgiving waters, the single man traverses the bridge, a microscopic spec in the immeasurable grandeur of the undergrounds.