Revenge: A Path of Destruction
Chapter 125: System Integration 2 (Flashback)

Chapter 125: System Integration 2 (Flashback)

Alex moved through the dimly lit corridor of the bunker, his footsteps echoing softly against the smooth floor. Doors lined both sides of the passage, each marked by glowing signs overhead: WEAPONS, ARMOR, FOOD, and even one with the label VIDEOGAMES.

A slight twitch passed over his face at the last one. Really, Mom?

But he didn’t slow down.

Leisure wasn’t a luxury he could afford right now. There would be no time to explore or reminisce over what could’ve been a normal life. Not anymore.

He continued forward until he reached the door labeled FOOD. The metal door slid open with a quiet hiss,, revealing a space that took him by surprise.

It wasn’t a pantry or a compact kitchen—it was a full-scale cafeteria, large enough to easily feed a hundred people. Polished tables stretched out in rows, and the lighting adjusted subtly as he stepped inside, casting a warm glow over the room. The sheer size of it once again reminded him of the scope of the bunker. His mother hadn’t built a survival shelter—she had built a sanctuary.

Alex moved toward the empty counter.

Behind it, he spotted a secondary room with a sign above the door that read: STORE.

But it wasn’t the sign that caught his attention—it was the runes etched across the door’s surface. Enchantments runes, carefully woven with precise lines. He could help but wonder what they were for, as he stepped through the doorway.

Inside, rows of towering cupboards and heavy-duty freezers lined the walls, each adorned with similar glowing runes. He didn’t recognized the runes but could make a guess—Preservation Runes—used to halt decay and maintain freshness over time.

The store was filled with raw ingredients, enough to feed hundreds for months. Meats, grains, vegetables—everything had been categorized and arranged like a military stockpile. It was overkill. But seeing it, he couldn’t help the flicker of gratitude that surfaced.

She did think of everything.

Alex walked further in and gathered a few ingredients, opting for something quick and nutritious. On his way out, he stopped at the sleek, chrome-lined Instant Cook Machine near the counter. The device an advanced machine for preparing meal, and its function was simple: load the raw materials, press a few commands, and the machine would handle the rest—cooking, seasoning, even plating if needed.

In today’s world, nearly every household has one. But this was a high-end variant, probably custom-built.

He placed the ingredients into the chamber and stepped back, watching as the transparent dome sealed shut and the machine whirred to life. Lights flickered inside, heat condensed around glowing coils, and the smell of warm food filled the air within seconds.

Alex turned from the counter and found a seat near one of the long tables. He sat down in silence, fingers interlaced, eyes distant.

Five minutes passed.

The machine beeped once, sharp and clean.

He stood, retrieved the tray, and returned to his seat. The meal was simple, but warm and nourishing—exactly what he needed.

Nyxara remained nearby, seated in feline stillness. She didn’t speak. Didn’t interrupt.

She watched as Alex ate silently, not daring to disturb the quiet weight of the moment.

There would be time for words later.

As she knew in a few hours he would entering the tub for that operation, and would be subjected to a lot of pain like no other.

----

After finishing his meal, Alex returned to the main hall. The lights had dimmed slightly, as if the bunker itself recognized the gravity of what was to come. He walked quietly to a secluded corner, away from the towering control panels and illuminated consoles. There, he sank into a meditative position.

He didn’t speak.

He simply closed his eyes, letting the silence stretch around him.

The potion coursing through his veins needed time, and meditation helped speed the body’s recovery process. With his body now properly nourished and healing factors enhanced, remaining motionless allowed the potion to do its work at a cellular level—mending internal wounds, knitting bone, replenishing torn muscle.

For hours, he remained that way. Still. Breathing low and slow.

Then—after six hours—his eyes opened.

Clearer. Sharper.

He stood, flexing his fingers. Pain still lingered in the background, but the worst of it was gone.

Alex looked toward the screen across the room.

The hologram flickered to life without a command, continuing from where it had last paused. Mona’s voice flowed out again, her tone clinical but underlined with softness.

"Seeing as you’re ready... let’s continue. In case you’re wearing anything, undress now until you’re only in your underwear. Then walk to the tub, and it will begin the procedure on its own."

Alex didn’t hesitate.

With a composed breath, he began to undress, folding his clothes and placing them neatly on a nearby bench. Clad only in the bare minimum, he walked over to the tube that had risen earlier—its surface smooth, metallic, and faintly humming with dormant energy.

He paused at its edge.

Then, silently, he stepped in and lay down face-down, his back facing the ceiling as instructed.

The interior was cool against his skin.

"Alex..." Nyxara’s voice echoed softly within his mind, raw with emotion. "Please... survive this."

Alex didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. His nod was enough.

As soon as his head touched the embedded support, the upper half of the tub began to close, sliding down with a mechanical hiss. A moment later, several pipes activated with a deep, resonating thrum.

A translucent blue liquid—thick and faintly glowing—began to flow in from the sides. It wasn’t water. It had an almost viscous consistency, like living gel, and it shimmered faintly with runic etchings inside the fluid itself.

Nyxara remained still, her golden eyes wide with concern. Her claws tensed against the floor as she stared at the capsule filling up, helpless to intervene. The closer it came to being full, the more her unease twisted in her chest.

’Why was I brought here... if I can’t help him?’

The room had grown cold.

Quiet.

And then—on the screen, away from both of them—the image shifted slightly.

Mona’s image on the screen was one of pain. Then her lips, faintly lit by ethereal blue. Her expression unreadable. Her lips parted—just enough to speak—but no sound came at first. Only silence, like a breath pulled from beyond the grave.

If someone had followed or heard the wishper, they would have heard

"This... is where the world you knew ends, Alex."

The tub was full.