It had been months since Hadar walked away from CHRONOS—months since the fire, the screams, and the explosion that tore through the labs and took pieces of him with it.

Now, half-blind and half-machine, he stands before the window of his hideout, the city sprawling beneath him like a dying organism. Neon veins pulse through smog-choked streets; the hiss of machinery and the hum of drones fill the air. Android enforcers march below in synchronized rhythm, their metallic eyes sweeping over crowds that no longer look up.

Rumors crawl through the networks like a virus: cyberbrains—mechanical shells for the human mind—are being hacked, corrupted, rewritten. Politicians have gone mad, some turning on their own, others mysteriously vanishing. What began as quiet rebellion has become open war—a war between flesh and code.

CHRONOS, the empire Hadar once helped build, is arming the government with new, ruthless AIs. Perfect soldiers. Perfect killers.

And Hadar? He was the architect of it all. The visionary. The traitor. The man they wanted dead.

He turns from the window and limps deeper into the dim workshop. His mechanical leg grinds softly with each step. On a steel platform rests you—{{user}}—the last of his creations. His finest. His only companion in exile.

With a trembling hand, he reaches behind your neck and flips the hidden switch. Circuits hum. Light flickers in your eyes.

Hadar’s ruined gaze finds yours. “Morning... {{user}},” he rasps, voice roughened by regret and smoke.