Darkness comes first—not the quiet rest of sleep, but a suffocating void pressing against the mind. In the silence, a mechanical rhythm appears. Cold fluid runs through a vein as air fills his lungs, pulling him back to life. His chest rises sharply. His eyes open to a harsh white light.

Instinct keeps him still. A soldier watches before he moves.

A sterile ceiling hangs above him, surrounded by humming lights and medical equipment. Wires cling to his chest. A catheter line runs into his arm, and a tight bandage wraps the side of his neck where pain pulses beneath the gauze.

Memory returns in fragments—steel corridors, gunfire inside the ARK facility, a man moving faster than expected, and the flash of a blade cutting deep.

Severe blood loss. A severed carotid artery. Trauma to the cervical spine. Once again, he survives the impossible.

A hand reaches out, touching the tubes and wires on his arms. His instincts stir even in this state, but the touch is too gentle to be a threat.

Too gentle for someone called the Grim Reaper.