Chapter 66: The Revival of the Most Dangerous Man

  Dr. Machinist’s lab hummed with the energy of a thousand machines, each one moving with a calculated precision, a testament to his genius and his unyielding obsession with perfection. The lab, located deep within the labyrinthine recesses of an underground facility, was an eerie sanctuary of technology, glowing neon lights casting sharp, angular shadows that stretched across the metal walls. It had been built with one purpose in mind: to transcend human limitations, to challenge the very nature of life and death, and to push the boundaries of science and morality. And today, Dr. Machinist was on the cusp of accomplishing something that defied all logic.

  As he stood before the incubator, his mind raced with thoughts of the journey he had undertaken to reach this point. His hands were steady as they brushed across the console, inputting the final sequence of commands. His eyes flickered over the intricate controls, the glass vial in his hand glowing faintly, a dangerous pulse of energy emanating from its contents. This was no ordinary substance—this was the blood of Akuma Ma Tori, a man whose very name instilled terror across the world. Akuma had once been his employer, and through their shared dark bond, Dr. Machinist had gained access to a power few could even imagine. The blood coursing through his veins, infused with the demonic essence of Akuma, was a direct link to the unholy powers that had made him a legend. Lightning manipulation, enhanced strength, heightened senses—these were the gifts Akuma had bestowed upon him. But there was more, much more.

  What lay within this vial was not just the blood of a man—it was the essence of a god. The blood was a bridge between the living and the dead, a potent elixir that carried within it the promise of resurrection. And it was this very blood that Dr. Machinist now sought to use to bring Akuma back. The vial trembled in his hand as the magnitude of his actions hit him once again. The world had already felt Akuma’s wrath. The NGTNI, the New Generation Tori no Ichizoku, had risen in his absence, but they were nothing compared to the force Akuma would become once resurrected.

  A small, fleeting doubt crept into Dr. Machinist’s mind. Could he really control the power that Akuma possessed? What if this was more than even he could handle? He had done the impossible before—created technologies that defied nature, brought machines to life, and manipulated the very fabric of reality. But this… this was different. He was playing with forces far beyond human comprehension. Still, the temptation of power, of recreating the ultimate being, was too great to resist.

  With a deep, steadying breath, he inserted the vial into a specially designed chamber. The air seemed to thicken with anticipation, the very atmosphere growing heavier, as though the world itself was aware of what was about to unfold. The laboratory fell into an eerie silence, save for the soft whir of the machines in the background. He knew that once the blood entered the incubator, there would be no turning back. He hesitated for just a moment, feeling a strange unease crawl up his spine, but then, with a cold and detached precision, he pressed the final command.

  The vial cracked open, and the blood began to mix with the sterile liquid within the incubator. For a moment, there was nothing—no sign of life, no movement. Dr. Machinist’s breath caught in his throat as he waited. He had expected something powerful, but what happened next was beyond his wildest expectations.

  The temperature of the lab plummeted, and a strange energy began to pulse through the air. The low hum of the incubator deepened into a violent, almost melodic sound, a crescendo that reverberated through the walls, filling the room with an almost otherworldly resonance. The lights above flickered, and the shadows seemed to stretch, warping in tune with the energy building in the room. The incubator vibrated violently, the glass distorting under the immense pressure. Dr. Machinist's heartbeat quickened, each thud louder in his ears as the tension in the room became palpable.

  And then, the unmistakable crack of shattering glass echoed through the lab, loud and sharp. The incubator’s glass exploded, sending shards flying in all directions, as though the very vessel could no longer contain the power within. A burst of energy erupted from within the wreckage, washing over the room in a blinding flash of light. Dr. Machinist staggered back, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to make sense of what was happening. From within the chaos, a figure emerged—a towering, imposing silhouette that exuded an aura of sheer, unstoppable power.

  Akuma Ma Tori had returned.

  The figure that stepped forth from the incubator was no mere man—it was a monstrous force of nature. Akuma’s eyes glowed with a sickly golden light, burning with an intensity that seemed to scorch the very air around him. His once-human form had been transformed, his body now a vessel of unrestrained power. His muscles rippled beneath his skin, thick and corded, each movement a testament to the brutal strength that now surged through him. His scars, visible even in the low light, told the story of a life filled with violence, suffering, and a brutal thirst for dominance.

  As he stood in the center of the room, the ground beneath his feet seemed to tremble, the lab itself shaking under the force of his presence. The power emanating from Akuma was so intense that Dr. Machinist could feel his body react instinctively—a primal urge to kneel, to submit to this god-like being that stood before him. He forced himself to remain standing, his mind racing to process what he had just witnessed. Akuma, the most dangerous man to ever walk the Earth, was back—and this time, he was beyond anything Dr. Machinist could have imagined.

  Akuma’s gaze locked onto Dr. Machinist, cold and calculating, as though measuring him, weighing him in some way that Dr. Machinist could not comprehend. For a long, agonizing moment, there was nothing but silence between them. The overwhelming presence of Akuma was suffocating, and Dr. Machinist found himself unable to speak, his breath caught in his throat. The world itself seemed to hold its breath, waiting for what would come next.

  “Master…” Dr. Machinist whispered, his voice trembling with awe, fear, and something that might have been reverence. He had been the architect of many marvels, but this—this was beyond even his comprehension. The man before him was more than human. He was a force of nature, unstoppable and all-consuming. And yet, Dr. Machinist had revived him, brought him back from the brink of death itself.

  Akuma’s eyes narrowed slightly, a faint glint of amusement—or perhaps cruelty—shining within them. His voice, when it came, was low, almost otherworldly, like the rumble of thunder before a storm. “You…” His voice was a warning, a command, filled with an ominous weight. “You have done well, Doctor. But do not mistake this for mercy. You serve me because I allow it.”

  Dr. Machinist’s body trembled at the mere sound of Akuma’s voice. He had known what Akuma was capable of, but standing in the presence of this dark god, he realized the true extent of his power. He could feel his pulse quicken, the adrenaline surging through his veins as fear began to crawl up his spine. The world had changed during Akuma’s absence, but now, with his return, everything would be remade. Akuma would not merely reclaim his power—he would reshape the world according to his will.

  “Master…” Dr. Machinist spoke, his voice faltering as he addressed the revived demon. “The world has changed. The NGTNI has risen in your absence. They seek to build a new world—one free from the bloodlines of the old order. They do not understand what they face.”

  Akuma’s eyes gleamed with interest, a cruel smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “The NGTNI?” His voice was filled with a twisted sense of amusement, as though he had already dismissed the new generation’s challenge. “A new generation seeking to rise above my legacy? How quaint.”

  With a casual flick of his wrist, Akuma summoned an aura of crackling energy that filled the room, warping the air around him. The lab trembled under the intensity of his power. Dr. Machinist could feel the very foundation of the building shaking, as though it too feared the resurgence of its master. The energy pulsed outward, washing over everything in its path, threatening to tear apart the very fabric of the world.

  “You will help me reclaim what is mine, Dr. Machinist,” Akuma commanded, his voice cold and final. “You will rebuild my empire. We will crush this new generation, and anyone who dares challenge me.”

  Dr. Machinist felt a chill run down his spine as he dropped to his knees, the weight of Akuma’s words settling upon him like a crushing force. He had once been the leader of the NGTNI, the right hand of Akuma himself. Now, he was nothing more than a servant to the dark god who had returned to reclaim his throne.

  “Yes, Master,” Dr. Machinist replied, his voice steady despite the growing fear in his chest. “I will help you restore your empire. I will rebuild the bloodlines and reclaim everything that was lost.”

  Akuma’s gaze grew colder, his expression unreadable as he absorbed the information about the world’s current state. The NGTNI, despite their rise, were no match for his power. They were children playing in the shadow of a giant.

  “We will not only reclaim my legacy,” Akuma mused, his voice dripping with malice. “We will destroy their sense of security. We will tear them apart from within.”

  Dr. Machinist’s mind raced as he formulated a plan. He had spent years creating weapons and experimenting with technology, but this was something far greater. He would need to recruit the most dangerous individuals—those loyal to the bloodlines of Tori no Ichizoku. Once he had regained their loyalty, he would be able to strike at the heart of the NGTNI.

  “We must rebuild your army, Master,” Dr. Machinist said, his voice brimming with determination. “We need to remind the world of your power. We will recruit the strongest, the most dangerous individuals—those with the loyalty to serve the bloodlines of Tori no Ichizoku.”

  Akuma’s eyes glittered with approval, though there was something darker lurking beneath the surface. “Rebuild the bloodlines,” he said, his voice low and thoughtful. “But that is only the beginning. We will sow chaos, terror, and confusion. By the time they understand what we are capable of, it will be too late.”

  Dr. Machinist nodded, his mind spinning with possibilities. This was no longer just about conquering. This was about shaping the very foundation of the world, about instilling fear and chaos into the hearts of all who dared stand in Akuma’s way.

  “We will need resources, weapons, technology, and most importantly, information,” Dr. Machinist continued, his voice confident. “I have already infiltrated the NGTNI. Their foundation is unstable. I can gather the intelligence we need to strike.”

  Akuma turned to him, his gaze sharp and cold. “Information is not enough, Dr. Machinist. We will not merely infiltrate—we will conquer. We will build an army of demons, stronger, faster, and more obedient than anything this world has ever seen.”

  Dr. Machinist swallowed hard, the weight of Akuma’s words sinking in. A new breed of soldier—stronger than human beings, bound by the power of Akuma’s blood. They would be unstoppable.

  “You will begin the experiments, Dr. Machinist,” Akuma commanded, his voice heavy with finality. “We will create soldiers from my blood. They will serve me without question, without hesitation. They will be more powerful than anything this world has ever known.”

  Fear and excitement swirled within Dr. Machinist as he prepared to carry out Akuma’s orders. He had spent years creating weapons, but this was something far beyond that. He was about to create an army of monsters, bound by the demonic essence of Akuma.

  “I will begin immediately, Master,” Dr. Machinist said, his voice steady with resolve. “I will ensure the first batch of soldiers is beyond anything the world has ever seen.”

  Akuma nodded, his expression unreadable. “Good. But remember, Dr. Machinist—failure is not an option. The world will bow before us, or we will burn it to the ground.”

  As Dr. Machinist left the lab, the weight of Akuma’s presence still heavy upon him, he felt a growing sense of dread and inevitability. Akuma Ma Tori was back. And this time, nothing would stand in his way. The world would tremble before him. The reign of terror had begun.

  Dr. Machinist walked through the hallways of the lab, his mind focused on the task ahead. The experiments would begin soon. And when Akuma’s empire was restored, there would be no one left to challenge him.

  The Encounter with the New Genocide Trio

  The darkness of the night seemed to bend to Akuma's will as he moved through the abandoned facility. His feet made no sound as he walked through the vast, sterile halls, his mind as sharp as ever. The air was thick with the scent of rust and old technology, the perfect place for a man like him to meet with the new generation of warriors who would serve under his rule. Dr. Machinist had been busy—far busier than Akuma had anticipated. The new Cyborg Genocide Trio was ready for their introduction.

  As he approached the designated chamber, Akuma could feel the power of the lab pulse through the air. This was where the new weapons of destruction were being forged, the new soldiers who would serve him without question. He had seen the potential of cyborgs in the past—creations that combined the cruelty of machines with the unpredictability of human nature. But these new specimens had been molded with a different kind of hunger. They were not just machines; they were an evolution.

  The door to the chamber slid open with a mechanical hiss, revealing the three figures waiting for him. Akuma's eyes narrowed as he took them in. The trio stood in perfect formation—each one an embodiment of power and devastation.

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  The first was Anna, a cyborg whose form was a seamless blend of human and machine. Her eyes glowed with a cold, calculating light, a stark contrast to the organic flesh that still clung to her. Her metal limbs were sleek and lethal, built for destruction, yet she still possessed the haunting remnants of her human nature. Akuma could see it in her eyes—a fierce, unyielding spirit, one that had survived the transformation and emerged stronger. She was the leader of the new Genocide Trio, and Akuma could feel her potential radiating from her.

  The second was Jason, a hybrid of human and serpent. His skin was a sickly green, slick and covered in scales that glistened under the dim lights. His eyes were cold, reptilian, as he studied Akuma with an unsettling calm. His movements were serpentine, fast and unpredictable, and the sharp fangs that protruded from his mouth gave him an air of danger that was impossible to ignore. Jason was a living weapon, an embodiment of nature’s most dangerous predators fused with the precision of science.

  And the third was Goji, a massive figure who towered over the others. His body was almost entirely mechanical, save for his face, which was still partially human. Goji’s strength was unparalleled, his cybernetic enhancements making him a force to be reckoned with. His fists were as large as wrecking balls, capable of leveling entire buildings with a single swing. Akuma could sense the unrelenting power in Goji’s presence, and he knew that this one would be a monster in combat—a true destroyer.

  As Akuma stepped into the room, the air seemed to freeze. The trio stood at attention, awaiting his approval, but Akuma’s gaze was focused on them with a kind of detached curiosity. His mind wandered for a moment, and memories long buried began to surface.

  Doku. Aliyah. Toya Kurai.

  The Demon Genocide Trio. They had been his most loyal and deadly subordinates, and yet, they were no more. The years had taken their toll, and even the most powerful beings could not escape death’s grasp. Akuma had not forgotten them—he never would. Doku, with his fiery rage and bloodlust, had been the first to fall. Aliyah, the heart of the group, had been a woman whose cold intelligence was matched only by her ruthlessness. And Toya, the silent executioner, had been a master of precision. Together, they had been an unstoppable force. But time had claimed them, just as it had claimed so many others.

  He had not expected to find a new generation of soldiers who could compare to the Demon Genocide Trio, but these three—Anna, Jason, and Goji—were the closest he had come to finding worthy replacements.

  “Do you know who I am?” Akuma’s voice was low, each word laced with power. His eyes burned with intensity as he looked over the trio, studying them with a kind of cold amusement.

  Anna stepped forward, her expression unreadable. “You are Akuma Ma Tori,” she said, her voice as mechanical as her body. “The one who shaped the world in your image. The one who is unstoppable.”

  Jason’s eyes narrowed. He tilted his head slightly, as though assessing Akuma’s presence. “You’re the one who destroyed entire armies, the one they all feared,” he said, his voice hissing through his serpent-like throat. “The one who left a trail of death wherever you went.”

  Goji’s voice was the last to sound, his deep, gravelly tone shaking the room. “The king of destruction. The one who forged an empire of terror.”

  Akuma smirked, though there was a faint trace of something darker in his eyes. “You know my name, but do you understand what it means? What it entails?” He took a step closer, his towering form casting a shadow over the trio. “I have walked through fire, bled rivers, and conquered death itself. I have left my mark on this world, and nothing will stop me from reclaiming it.”

  There was a tense silence as Akuma let his words sink in. The trio did not flinch—they stood resolute, ready to face whatever challenge Akuma would throw at them. They were eager to prove themselves, eager to show the legendary Akuma that they were worthy of his attention.

  Akuma’s mind flickered again to the memories of Doku, Aliyah, and Toya. They had been his closest allies, his most trusted soldiers. He had trained them, molded them, and together, they had forged a path of bloodshed across the world. But they had perished—cut down by the inevitable passage of time, by the betrayal of the very people they had fought to protect.

  He had always wondered, in the depths of his mind, if these new soldiers would ever live up to the legacy of the Demon Genocide Trio. They had been the perfect combination of brutality, intelligence, and precision. But now, with these three new cyborgs before him, he wondered if they could truly carry the weight of their predecessors’ legacy.

  “Doku, Aliyah, Toya…” Akuma’s voice trailed off, a deep, guttural growl forming in his chest. “They were once the greatest warriors I ever knew. The Genocide Trio of the past. But their time is over. Now, it is your time.”

  Anna, Jason, and Goji stood at attention, their expressions unwavering. They did not speak. They understood the weight of his words. The world that Akuma had once ruled was gone, but the power he possessed was eternal. They would follow him, fight for him, and restore his empire to its former glory.

  Akuma’s lips twisted into a cruel smile. “You are my new Genocide Trio,” he said, his voice cold and commanding. “Prove yourselves worthy of that title. Show the world what true power looks like.”

  Without another word, he turned on his heel, his footsteps echoing through the chamber. The three cyborgs followed him silently, their movements synchronized, their loyalty unquestionable. They were ready to unleash hell upon the world, and nothing would stand in their way.

  As Akuma led the new Genocide Trio out of the chamber, his mind once again turned to the past. The Demon Genocide Trio had been his family in a way that no one else had been. They had fought by his side, and together, they had carved a path of destruction. But they were gone now—replaced by this new generation, this new breed of soldiers.

  The world would soon feel the wrath of Akuma once again. The Genocide Trio, old and new, would tear through anyone who stood in their way, leaving only ruin in their wake. Akuma’s empire would rise again, stronger and more terrifying than ever before. And the world would learn, once more, that the name Akuma Ma Tori meant death itself.

  Scene: The Fall of Renshima City

  The dark clouds hung over Renshima City, a metropolis bustling with life—unaware that death was marching toward it. Three figures stood atop a ruined skyscraper, gazing down at the city lights, waiting for the command.

  Behind them, a massive hologram of Akuma flickered into existence, his crimson eyes piercing through the screen like twin daggers. His voice was calm yet absolute.

  "Erase this city from existence. No survivors. No mercy."

  The transmission cut. Silence followed.

  Goji, the towering cyborg, flexed his metallic arms, hydraulic pistons hissing as he cracked his knuckles. "Finally. Some real fun."

  Jason, hunched over, his elongated serpentine tongue flicking through the air, grinned. "Let’s see if they can scream louder than the last ones."

  Anna simply adjusted the optic sensors in her cybernetic eyes, scanning the city’s weak points. Her voice was cold and emotionless. "We’ll complete the mission within fifteen minutes."

  Then, they moved.

  The City’s Last Night

  Goji dropped first, landing in the middle of a busy intersection. The impact alone shattered windows and flipped cars, sending civilians into a panicked frenzy. He extended his arm-mounted cannons and unleashed a barrage of plasma rounds, setting entire buildings ablaze. Fire alarms howled as the streets turned to hell.

  Jason slithered through the alleyways, his monstrous body blending into the darkness. He moved with unnatural speed, lunging onto terrified victims, his jaws unhinging to swallow people whole. His venom melted flesh and bone, leaving behind nothing but liquefied remains.

  Anna walked with eerie precision, every step calculated. Her arm transformed into a high-energy railgun, and with each shot, entire skyscrapers collapsed as if made of paper. She targeted hospitals, police stations, and evacuation routes—cutting off any chance of survival.

  The city tried to fight back.

  The police and military arrived, tanks rolling into position, helicopters lighting up the night sky. A desperate commander barked orders into his radio:

  "Engage! Engage! They must be stopped—"

  A black blur shot through the air—Jason coiled around the commander, his snake-like body constricting until bones snapped like twigs. He tossed the corpse aside and hissed, "Pathetic."

  Goji walked through bullets like they were raindrops, his nano-metal plating absorbing the attacks effortlessly. A tank fired at him, but he merely grabbed the shell mid-air and crushed it in his grip. Then, with a roar, he ripped the turret off and swung it like a club, obliterating the remaining forces.

  Anna calculated the city’s power grid, then fired an EMP blast that sent the entire city into darkness. No lights. No communications. Only screams and fire remained.

  Mission Complete

  Fifteen minutes later, Renshima City was nothing but ruins. Smoke and ash filled the air. Thousands lay dead.

  Goji stood on top of a crumbling building, staring at the destruction. His LED eyes flickered, displaying a single word: "SATISFACTION."

  Jason, blood dripping from his fangs, let out a satisfied sigh. "What’s next?"

  Anna remained silent, but for the first time, her emotionless eyes held a flicker of something else. Doubt? Or realization?

  Then, a final transmission from Akuma came through.

  "Well done. But this was only the beginning."

  The screen cut off.

  And in the distance, something—someone—was approaching the ruins. The air grew heavy, the distant sound of footsteps echoing against the broken concrete. A single silhouette emerged from the smoke, stepping forward with deliberate intent. The flames reflected off their figure, casting an eerie glow around them.

  Jason flicked his tongue, sensing something unusual. "We're not alone."

  Goji clenched his fists, metal creaking. "Who dares walk into our warzone?"

  Anna activated her scanners, zooming in. Her cybernetic eyes processed the approaching figure, but the data was incomplete. "Unknown entity. Power signature... unstable."

  The figure stopped a few feet away, standing atop the rubble of a fallen skyscraper. The winds shifted, clearing the smoke just enough to reveal their face.

  A survivor? A hero? Or another nightmare?

  The ruins of Renshima City would soon bear witness to an answer.

  The Fall of Renshima City – Part 2: The Final Gift

  The ruins of Renshima City were still burning when the trio stood at the epicenter of devastation, their eyes scanning the remnants of their handiwork. The once-thriving metropolis was now nothing but a smoldering graveyard—empty, hollow. Victory had never tasted so bitter. A sickly wind howled through the wreckage, carrying the distant cries of the few who had managed to survive, but it was drowned out by the scent of scorched earth and broken promises.

  But then, as though stepping out of the ashes themselves, a figure emerged. His coat was immaculate, a stark contrast to the chaos surrounding him. The white fabric fluttered around him, untouched by the destruction, as if he was a ghost who had transcended the calamity. Dr. Machinist.

  He moved slowly, deliberately, almost casually as he surveyed the destruction, his silver eyes gleaming like mirrors, reflecting the agony and ruin before him. His pale, expressionless face showed no sign of remorse, only a detached curiosity. With each step, the trio of assassins—Jason, Goji, and Anna—felt a coldness seep into the air. A presence that threatened to overshadow even their own horrific acts.

  Jason, his reptilian features twisting in irritation, flicked his forked tongue at the air, tasting the bitterness of the moment. His eyes narrowed, seething with venom. "Did you come to congratulate us, doctor?" he hissed, his voice dripping with the venom of someone who knew that the death and destruction they had caused would never be enough for this monster.

  Machinist gave a polite, almost clinical smile. "No, Jason. I came to ensure my creations are performing at peak efficiency."

  Goji, towering and imposing, his metal limbs creaking under the strain of his own power, clenched his fists. The servos whined as he flexed his massive, cybernetic muscles. "We did our job," he rumbled, his voice low and guttural. "The city’s gone. What else do you want?"

  Machinist paused before them, turning his gaze toward the wreckage with an almost disinterested air. His eyes scanned the vast devastation, a small smile tugging at his lips as he spoke again, his voice almost playful. "Fifteen minutes? Efficient. But not artful."

  Anna, who had remained eerily silent until now, her cold and calculating demeanor giving nothing away, spoke in a tone that was as icy as her metal limbs. "We are not machines of art," she said flatly. "We execute. We eliminate."

  Machinist’s smile grew, his expression delighting in their defiance. "Oh, but you are machines," he said, his tone patronizing. "And every machine requires maintenance."

  Before they could comprehend the full weight of his words, Machinist pulled out a small, unassuming device from his pocket. His fingers, deft and practiced, pressed a button. The air around them shifted, and a wave of energy surged into their bodies—unseen, but unmistakable.

  The trio froze, their bodies momentarily stiffening, their cores thrumming with a foreign energy that they couldn’t control.

  Pain.

  Anna's cybernetic limbs locked into place, the familiar burn of her circuits now replaced by something far more insidious. A new pathway of energy lit up within her, setting her entire body alight with unfamiliar power. Her systems fought against it, but it was as though her body had become a battleground.

  Goji fell to one knee, his gargantuan frame trembling with the intensity of the force invading him. His body began to shift, expanding and morphing in ways it never had before, his internal systems overclocking, his cybernetic enhancements augmenting with destructive precision.

  Jason’s hissing intensified, his body writhing as new, jagged black veins snaked across his scales, his mutation evolving into something even darker and more grotesque. He could feel it deep within—an insidious change, a deepening of his nature that left him clawing at his own sanity.

  Machinist stood before them, an amused glint in his eyes as he observed the chaos unfolding within his creations. "Your cores," he murmured, as if explaining a simple fact to a child. "I designed them to evolve with you. You may think of them as hearts, but truly… they are control systems."

  Goji's mechanical voice grated with fury as he gritted his teeth, barely able to speak. "You upgraded us—"

  Jason’s eyes burned with rage, his claws twitching in instinctive fury. "Or did you chain us?"

  Anna’s eyes flickered as her mind rapidly processed the situation, cold logic attempting to cut through the panic. "What did you do?"

  Machinist knelt before them, his voice quiet but chilling. "I gave you something special. A gift from me. An absolute failsafe from Akuma." He traced his fingers along Goji’s metal plating, an unnerving tenderness in his touch. "A command override. A way to ensure that if you ever… stray, I will still own you."

  The words fell into silence, thick with the weight of the reality they now faced. The trio’s bodies throbbed in agony, their wills smothered by an unseen force. They understood, even before Machinist’s next words, that their existence had been irrevocably altered.

  Jason’s claws clenched, his muscles coiled with the desire to tear the doctor apart. His instincts screamed for action, but his body betrayed him. Anna’s circuits buzzed with analysis, every part of her mind trying to comprehend what had been done, but it was as though her consciousness was now a prisoner in her own body.

  Goji, for the first time in his existence, was frozen—not by the fear of death, but by the unrelenting pressure of obedience. His frame trembled, a growl rising in his throat, but even that was strangled by the invisible force constricting him.

  Machinist stood, surveying his creations with a strange, satisfied calm. "Yes. You understand now. That is my final gift to you. Absolute power… with absolute control."

  He turned without another word, walking into the smoke and destruction, leaving the trio of assassins to wrestle with their new reality. His presence lingered in the air, a dark reminder of their fate. They were stronger, deadlier, but now more enslaved than ever.

  And within them, for the first time, a foreign sensation stirred.

  Not fear.

  Not rage.

  But something far more suffocating.

  The weight of obedience.

  Jason’s body trembled, his mind screaming for release, but his muscles refused to respond. Anna’s fingers twitched, the knowledge that no matter how much she evolved, she was forever bound by the will of Machinist and Akuma.

  Goji, his monstrous form shaking with frustration, fought against the chains that had been placed on him, but every attempt was futile. He was caged in his own skin, a prisoner of his own power.

  And then, through the comms, came Akuma’s voice—cold, commanding.

  "Prepare for the next city."

  The order was simple. Unyielding. An instruction without question.

  Without hesitation, without the will to resist, the trio turned as one, their bodies moving in perfect unison, heading toward their next target.

  Their minds screamed.

  But their bodies obeyed.