Bio-Mech Warrior

0900 Hours – Interrogation Room, Hagnayan City, Cornalian Region, New Sandesta

The surrendered rebel sat slouched in the interrogation room, hands cuffed tightly to the cold steel table. He kept his head down, avoiding the harsh white light of the single fluorescent lamp above him.

The room was stifling—humid, with poor ventilation. Comfort was never part of the design. Just enough airflow existed to keep detainees from passing out.

Outside the one-way glass, Colonel Gray stood with arms crossed, observing the prisoner. His expression was unreadable as he turned to the attending officer beside him.

"What's the progress?" Gray asked, eyes still fixed on the detainee.

The interrogator flipped through a clipboard. "He's been cooperative. He's named multiple individuals tied to the rebel cells—along with links to bio-weapon deployment during Operation Dawnbreak."

Gray raised an eyebrow. "Anyone significant?"

"Enrique Gomez, as expected. But he also mentioned someone else—Alice Zhang."

Gray's gaze sharpened. "Keep pressing. Encourage him to speak further. I'll verify this intel with our Fereldian counterparts."

He gave one last glance at the detainee before turning and walking away.

Moments later, another man entered the room. He was tall, clean-cut, and carried a thick brown folder under his arm. His demeanor was calm—but his presence carried weight.

The rebel looked up. "Finally… another round of questions," he muttered sarcastically.

The man ignored the comment and took a seat across from him. He opened the folder slowly and deliberately, then looked the prisoner in the eyes.

"My name is Leroy Adams," he said, voice flat. "Oceanic Union of Fereldia. Country Intelligence Services."

Tomas swallowed hard.

"I hold in my hand the authority over your life or death," Adams continued, his tone like stone. "Cooperate, and my superiors might consider you useful. Lie, withhold, or stall—and you'll either meet the gallows or catch a lead pill to the skull."

The sarcasm drained from the rebel's face. A chill ran down his spine despite the heat in the room.

"I… I just want out of this nightmare," he stammered. "I don't want to fight anymore. I'll tell you everything I know!"

Adams gave a faint smile. "Good. Be a good boy, Tomas Guerrero."

Tomas nodded rapidly, beads of sweat forming on his brow. "Yes, sir. Anything—just don't send me back to that place."

1300 Hours – The Grand Duchy Hotel, Recto Newtown, Agahon Region, New Sandesta

The smell of smoke lingered in the air. An overweight man in his fifties sat on the bed, a towel draped lazily around his lower body. Beside him lay a young woman with fair skin and black hair, her body mostly covered by a blanket.

Lighting another cigarette, he checked his online bank account on his handphone. Frustration brewed—no transaction had come in.

Annoyed, he made a call.

After a few rings, a familiar voice answered.

"Almirez, it's been a long time!"

"Don't play coy with me, Enrique. You promised me something. It's still not in my account," Almirez snapped.

"Oh, the payment? How could I forget, my old friend?" Enrique laughed. The sound grated on Almirez's nerves.

"If it weren't for me, you'd have been captured or shot. Any more delays, and there will be consequences."

"You're not threatening me, are you? I thought we were friends?" Enrique replied mockingly."I'm just testing your patience and loyalty. You put too much faith in money—yet you lack both virtues yourself."

"This is business, Enrique," Almirez replied coldly.

"Fine. I'll transfer the funds. Now." Enrique paused. "But I want one more favor…"

"What is it? I'm listening."

"No leaks. No witnesses. No loose ends. Deal with them."

Almirez smiled as the funds landed in his account.

"Yes. I'll do that. As promised."

1800 Hours – Camp Citu, Cornalian Region, New Sandesta

Colonel Gray's office was meticulously tidy. It was well-lit, practical, and efficient—just like the man himself. He sat at his desk, reviewing the latest intelligence on his monitor.

He was cross-referencing the testimony from earlier. Enrique Gomez was a clear suspect, but the names Alice Zhang and others remained murky.

Gray sighed and prepared to shut down the terminal—until something caught his eye.

"What is… this?"

The file came from Fereldian CIS. Detailed. Deep. Enrique Gomez's background now lay exposed: foreign training, ties to black-market weapon dealers, and confirmed associations with terrorist cells.

One alias stood out—Cherry Tan.

No confirmed ID. No official records. Just a codename. Likely the same shadowy figure the rebel had mentioned.

Gray leaned back in his chair.

"This just got deeper than I thought…"

As he dug deeper into the files, more red flags appeared. One folder denied access.

"Level 2 access only?"

Gray cursed under his breath. He was close to connecting the dots—but his Level 3 clearance wasn't enough.

His handphone rang.

It was Leroy Adams.

"Colonel Gray, this is Leroy. There's something we need to talk about."

"Is this about the interrogation?" Gray asked.

"Yes," Leroy replied.