Doc Varro exhaled sharply as he pulled on a pair of gloves. His clinic was dimly lit, the flickering neon sign outside casting an eerie glow through the grated window. The stranger groaned as they were lowered onto the exam table, blood seeping through their shredded gear.

  Varro grabbed a scanner and ran it over their wound. His brow furrowed. “Bullet wound, but it’s clean. You weren’t shot by some back-alley thug. This was precision.” He tossed the scanner onto the tray beside him. “And whatever hit you, it was meant to drop you in one shot.”

  The stranger managed a weak smirk. “Didn’t work, did it?”

  Varro rolled his eyes and started disinfecting the wound. “You always were too damn stubborn.”

  Wesker leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “So… are we gonna talk about what just happened? Because I’d love an explanation for why some death machine just tried to turn us into scrap metal.”

  The stranger winced as Varro applied pressure to the wound. “That thing—” they gritted their teeth, breathing through the pain. “—was a Wraith.”

  Wesker and Garrick exchanged glances.

  Varro cursed under his breath. “You led a Wraith to my doorstep? Damn it, kid.”

  “I didn’t lead it here. It was already hunting me.” The stranger exhaled shakily. “Listen, that thing isn’t just some rogue bot. Wraiths are prototypes—experimental enforcers built for deep-ruin security. No one is supposed to have them outside the military.”

  Wesker narrowed his eyes. “Then who does?”

  The stranger hesitated.

  Varro sighed and finished stitching up their wound. “I don’t need to hear this.” He stood, pulling off his gloves. “Patch job’s done. Now, get out of my clinic.”

  “Wait—” Wesker stepped forward. “We just saved this guy’s life, and you’re gonna kick us out?”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Varro crossed his arms. “I’m a doctor, kid. I patch people up, I don’t get involved in their mess. And trust me—” He jabbed a finger at the stranger. “—this one always brings a mess.”

  Wesker turned back to the stranger. “So? You gonna tell us what’s going on?”

  A pause.

  Then—finally—the stranger sighed.

  “My name’s Rook.”

  They adjusted their torn sleeve, revealing a deep purple tattoo on their wrist—a sigil.

  Garrick’s face darkened. “That’s—”

  “Yeah.” Rook nodded. “I used to be part of an expedition team under the Aegis Syndicate.”

  Wesker’s stomach dropped.

  Aegis Syndicate.

  One of the most powerful excavation factions, backed by the government itself. They ran high-risk expeditions into the deepest ruins, retrieving tech that no one else dared touch.

  And they weren’t exactly known for playing nice.

  Rook glanced toward the clinic door, lowering their voice. “My team was sent into the ruins two weeks ago. We found something we weren’t supposed to. Something big.” They met Wesker’s eyes. “The kind of thing people kill to keep secret.”

  Garrick scoffed. “And let me guess—you tried to run with it?”

  Rook smiled faintly. “I didn’t try. I did.” They tapped their temple. “The data’s all in here. Locked. Encrypted. But Aegis isn’t the only one after it. If a Wraith found me, that means someone else sent it.”

  The room fell into heavy silence.

  Then, Wesker finally spoke.

  “…What did you find?”

  Rook hesitated. Their fingers clenched against the bloodstained fabric of their shirt.

  “A name,” they said softly.

  Varro sighed. “Kid, if you’re smart, you’ll walk away. This is bigger than you.”

  But Wesker wasn’t listening. His mind was racing.

  Because if this involved the ruins… If Aegis was after it…

  Could this somehow be connected to his father’s disappearance?

  He took a step closer.

  “What name?”

  Rook met his gaze.

  “…Samael.”

  The room seemed to grow colder.

  Garrick tensed. “That name’s a ghost story.”

  “No,” Rook said, shaking their head. “It’s real. And it’s buried in the ruins.”

  Wesker clenched his fist.

  This wasn’t just about Rook anymore.

  This was about everything.

  His father. The ruins. The factions.

  And now, a name that shouldn’t exist.

  “…Then I’m coming with you,” Wesker said.

  Rook frowned. “Kid—”

  “I don’t care what this is,” Wesker interrupted. “If this leads back to the ruins, I need to know. I need to see it myself.”

  A long silence.

  Then—Rook chuckled. “You got guts, I’ll give you that.”

  They extended a hand.

  Wesker took it.

  And just like that, he had his ticket in.

  But he had no idea what he was stepping into.