Shadows Of Deception

The silence of the night was shattered by the relentless ringing of Shenlog's phone. The sharp, high-pitched tone echoed through his quarters, relentless and jarring. The digital display flickered with urgency, as missed call notifications flashed one after another. Shenlog stirred, his brow furrowing in irritation as the insistent sound refused to let him rest.

Finally, with a low growl, he snatched the phone from the nightstand and barked, "Who is this?"

From the other end, chaos erupted. The sound of screaming, muffled explosions, and hurried footsteps blended into a cacophony of despair. A Sentinel officer's voice broke through the noise, panicked and breathless.

"Commander Shenlog! We've… we've found it! Blackstone—Blackstone City. The mission—months of searching—it's finally complete. The coordinates are—"

The officer's words were abruptly cut off by an eerie, mechanical hum. Shenlog's sharp ears picked up the distinct sound of something floating—the faint hum of objects slicing through the air.

"What's going on?" Shenlog demanded, his tone icy and commanding.

On the other end of the line, the officer's voice trembled. "Sir, it's—there are four… cubes—they're floating around me! I can't—"

CRACK!

A spine-chilling explosion erupted, followed by a sickening squelch. The line went dead, leaving behind only static.

Shenlog's grip on the phone tightened. "Who is this?" he growled into the receiver, his tone sharp and menacing. But no answer came. Only silence. Then, faintly, the sound of labored breathing emerged before a snap echoed through the line. The call ended abruptly, and Shenlog's phone screen flickered and went black.

Shenlog's heart pounded as he leapt from his bed. The soft rustle of silk sheets followed him as a blonde-haired woman stirred behind him. She was draped lazily in the satin covers, her curvaceous figure accentuated by the thin straps of her G-string. She propped herself up on one elbow, her golden hair cascading over her shoulder, and asked groggily, "What's wrong?"

"Go back to sleep," Shenlog ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

The woman pouted, but Shenlog didn't spare her another glance. His focus was already elsewhere, his strides long and purposeful as he exited the room. The metallic clang of his boots against the tiled floor echoed through the hall as he made his way to his

As Shenlog entered his private study, the air felt heavier. The faint glow of a holographic map emanated from his desk, casting long shadows across the room. His sharp eyes caught sight of a transmission blinking on the display—a final act from the Sentinel officer who had called him.

He tapped the console, and the map expanded before him. A blinking red dot marked the location. Blackstone City. Deep within the New World.

His mind raced. Blackstone—the Shadow Council's fortress, a city cloaked in mystery and danger, ruled by Nicklaus, the newly named Legion Commander. Months of searching, countless lives lost, and now the coordinates were in his hands.

But at what cost?

As Shenlog examined the map, something strange happened. The coordinates pulsed faintly, a rhythmic glow that grew stronger with each passing second. A low, droning hum filled the room. Shenlog's instincts screamed at him to move, and he barely dodged in time as the screen cracked violently, sending shards of glass flying.

A deep, metallic voice filled the room, cold and devoid of emotion. "You should have stayed in bed, Commander."

Shenlog's eyes narrowed. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice a low growl.

The voice didn't answer. Instead, the hologram flickered one last time before collapsing into static. Whatever had infiltrated his system was gone, leaving behind only the ominous coordinates on his desk.

Shenlog leaned back in his chair, his mind a storm of thoughts. Six days had passed since the chaos with Agent 66, and now this. He clenched his fists, his knuckles whitening as he stared at the blinking red dot on the map. The New World had always been a place of danger, but Blackstone City was something else entirely.

Rising from his seat, Shenlog grabbed his Sentinel white coat from the hanger beside him and draped it over his broad shoulders. His sharp eyes darted to the sword mounted on the wall—a weapon forged for war, polished and ready.

As he moved to leave, the blonde woman appeared at the doorway, her expression concerned. "What's happening, Shenlog?"

Without turning to her, Shenlog replied, "The Free World has a new mission."

He strode past her, his movements decisive, his mind already calculating the next steps. The Free World wasn't ready for what lay ahead. But Shenlog was.

The camera pans to the holographic map, the red dot blinking ominously over Blackstone City. Faint sounds of whispers echo, and the screen fades to black.