Bab 21: Chapter 21: Cliff-Hanging Twist
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๐๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฅ๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ธ๐ข๐ด ๐ธ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ค๐ฉ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฑ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฆ ๐ช๐ฏ ๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ฑ๐ฐ๐ค๐ฌ๐ฆ๐ต ๐ท๐ช๐ฃ๐ณ๐ข๐ต๐ฆ๐ฅโ๐ข ๐ด๐ช๐ฏ๐จ๐ญ๐ฆ ๐ฑ๐ถ๐ญ๐ด๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ง๐ณ๐ฐ๐ป๐ฆ ๐ฉ๐ช๐ฎ ๐ฎ๐ช๐ฅ-๐ด๐ต๐ฆ๐ฑ.
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Ethan's hand froze, hovering inches from the door. The interruption was an anomaly, an unforeseen variable. His jaw tightened as he fished the device out of his pocket, a sleek, black burner phoneโstandard issue from Umbrella. He unlocked it with a swift flick of his thumb, his eyes scanning the screen.
๐พ๐๐๐ฃ๐๐ ๐ค๐ ๐ฅ๐ก๐๐ฃ๐จ. ๐๐ค๐ช ๐ฌ๐ค๐ฃ'๐ฉ ๐๐ ๐๐ค๐๐ฃ๐ ๐๐ฃ ๐๐ก๐ค๐ฃ๐.ย
Wesker's message. Short, direct, and with an undercurrent of control that Ethan despised. His brow furrowed slightly, the subtle tension betraying his otherwise impassive expression. He read it again, parsing the words, trying to decipher the unspoken implications. Wesker never explained, never elaborated. He commanded, and expected obedience.
The sterile lighting of the hallway felt harsher now, reflecting off the cold, white walls. Ethan's mind raced through the possible outcomes of this shift. Who was the backup? Another Umbrella operative, or someone less predictable? His meticulously laid plans would need recalibration, a task he had neither time nor desire for.
Another buzzโa second message. This one from Leon.
๐๐ง๐ช๐จ๐ฉ ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐ฉ๐๐๐ข. ๐ฝ๐ช๐ฉ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช ๐ ๐ฃ๐ค๐ฌ ๐ฌ๐๐๐ฉ ๐ฉ๐ค ๐๐ค
Trust. The word alone made Ethan's lip curl slightly, a flash of derision that vanished as quickly as it appeared. Trust was a luxury, something he couldn't afford. Not with Umbrella's history of manipulation and betrayal. But Leon's message held a different weight. It was a warning, a reminder of the blurred lines between ally and enemy, between mission and survival.
A voice, cold and detached, sliced through the silenceโWesker's voice, crackling through the phone as if he were speaking directly into Ethan's mind. "Drake, your backup will meet you at the extraction point. Trust is a luxury you cannot afford."
Ethan's response was a low murmur, his tone flat, devoid of emotion. "Understood."
He tucked the phone back into his pocket, his expression hardening into the familiar mask of resolve. The unease gnawing at the edges of his mind was buried under layers of discipline and focus. Ethan pushed the door open, stepping out into the dimly lit another corridor. The usually quiet space seemed louder, every footfall echoing with the tension coiled in his chest.
The armory was his destinationโa cold, functional room lined with weapons and gear. Ethan's pace was measured, each step calculated as if every second was a beat in the rhythm of a silent countdown. As he walked, his mind was already adjusting to the new parameters of the mission, accounting for the unknown presence that would join him. Backup. An advantage, or a liability?
He entered the armory, the scent of gun oil and metal sharp in the air. The room was a testament to Umbrella's arsenal, walls lined with racks of firearms, shelves stocked with grenades and ammunition. Ethan moved with practiced efficiency, his hands selecting his weapons with the precision of a surgeon choosing his instruments.
He reached for his primary weaponโa ๐พ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ค๐ข 1911 .45 ๐ผ๐พ๐ ๐๐๐จ๐ฉ๐ค๐ก, its matte black finish absorbing the light. The suppressor, extended magazine, and laser sight made it a reliable tool of death, a weapon that had seen him through countless missions. Ethan checked the chamber, sliding in the first of his magazines: ๐๐ญ๐๐ง๐๐๐ซ๐ ๐๐จ๐ฎ๐ง๐๐ฌโ๐ ๐ซ๐จ๐ฎ๐ง๐๐ฌ. Two more followed, his fingers deftly loading them into the slots on his tactical vest.
Next, the ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ฌ๐ฌ๐๐ฎ๐ฅ๐ญ ๐๐ข๐๐ฅ๐โa beast of a weapon, modified to his exact specifications. The smart holographic sight, suppressor, and AI-assisted targeting system made it lethal at any range. Ethan loaded the ๐๐ข๐ ๐ก-๐๐๐ฅ๐จ๐๐ข๐ญ๐ฒ ๐๐จ๐ฎ๐ง๐๐ฌโ๐๐ ๐ซ๐จ๐ฎ๐ง๐๐ฌ into the magazine, the smooth click of the magazine locking into place a familiar sound. He added more magazines to his vest: ๐๐ซ๐ฆ๐จ๐ซ-๐๐ข๐๐ซ๐๐ข๐ง๐ ๐๐จ๐ฎ๐ง๐๐ฌโ๐๐ ๐ซ๐จ๐ฎ๐ง๐๐ฌ, ๐๐ง๐๐๐ง๐๐ข๐๐ซ๐ฒ ๐๐จ๐ฎ๐ง๐๐ฌโ๐๐ ๐ซ๐จ๐ฎ๐ง๐๐ฌ, ๐๐๐ฌ๐๐ซ ๐๐จ๐ฎ๐ง๐๐ฌโ๐๐ ๐ซ๐จ๐ฎ๐ง๐๐ฌ. Total count: ๐๐๐ ๐ซ๐จ๐ฎ๐ง๐๐ฌ. Enough to turn any encounter into a one-sided slaughter.
Ethan's gaze fell on the ๐๐ฆ๐๐ซ๐๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ ๐๐๐๐ญ๐ข๐๐๐ฅ ๐๐จ๐ฆ๐๐๐ญ ๐๐ง๐ข๐๐, its monomolecular edge gleaming under the fluorescent lights. He secured it in its sheath on his belt, knowing it could cut through almost anythingโor anyoneโif needed. A final check of his gearโnight vision and thermal goggles, grappling hook, nano-smoke grenades, enhanced multi-tool, and a first aid kitโall stowed and secured.
He was ready, yet something gnawed at himโa seed of doubt planted by Wesker's cryptic message and Leon's warning. The mission had changed, and with it, the stakes. He placed the final magazine into his rifle, his hand hesitating just for a fraction of a second. Doubt, once a foreign concept, had become an unwelcome companion.
Ethan shook off the thought, forcing his mind back into the rigid focus that had kept him alive all these years. He had a job to do. The weight of his gear, the solid feel of his weaponsโthese were his constants, his anchors in a world that shifted and twisted with each passing moment.
He turned and left the armory, his steps echoing in the now-empty corridor. The air felt heavier, the light dimmer, as if the building itself sensed the tension coiling within him. He approached the elevator, its doors sliding open with a soft chime. Ethan stepped inside, his reflection caught in the mirrored wallsโa lone figure, armored and armed, yet somehow smaller against the vastness of what lay ahead.
The doors closed with a muted thud, sealing him inside. The hum of the elevator's descent was the only sound, a mechanical lullaby that did nothing to calm the storm brewing in his mind. He stared at the panel, the numbers ticking down floor by floor, each one bringing him closer to the unknown.
As the elevator continued its descent, Ethan's thoughts returned to Leon's message. "๐๐จ๐ฎ ๐ค๐ง๐จ๐ฐ ๐ฐ๐ก๐๐ญ ๐ญ๐จ ๐๐จ." Did he? The words were meant to reassure, but instead, they echoed with a sinister ambiguity. Leon was a friend, perhaps the closest thing to one Ethan had in this world, but even friends had their limits, their breaking points. And in this line of work, those points were often reached sooner rather than later.
The elevator slowed, the faintest shift in momentum barely noticeable. Ethan straightened, every muscle tensing in anticipation. The moment the doors opened, he'd be stepping into the next phase of the missionโone now clouded by doubt and uncertainty.
The doors slid open with a hiss, revealing the dimly lit underground garage. Empty, save for a single, black SUV parked near the far wall. Ethan's gaze swept the space, every shadow a potential threat, every corner a possible hiding place.
He stepped out, his boots silent on the concrete floor. The air was thick, the faint scent of gasoline mingling with the cold, damp smell of the underground. He moved towards the vehicle, his grip tightening on his rifle, ready for anythingโor anyone.
As he approached, the SUV's rear door clicked open, the sound sharp in the silence. Ethan's pulse quickened, his mind calculating the angles, the positions. He stopped a few feet away, his body coiled like a spring, ready to react.
From the shadows within the vehicle, a figure emergedโtall, clad in tactical gear, face obscured by a helmet and visor. The figure stepped into the light, the visor reflecting the harsh fluorescent glare. They stood there, silent, waiting.
Ethan's finger twitched near the trigger, his breath steady but shallow. The figure reached up, slowly removing their helmet. As the face beneath was revealed, Ethan's eyes narrowed, recognition flickering across his features. The mission had just taken another unexpected turn.
But he didn't speak, not yet. He needed to understand the new dynamic, the roles that had suddenly shifted. The figure met his gaze, their expression unreadable, yet something in their eyes hinted at knowledgeโknowledge Ethan didn't yet possess.
The SUV's engine roared to life, the sound breaking the tension like a gunshot. Ethan climbed into the passenger seat, the figure sliding into the driver's seat. As the vehicle pulled out of the garage, the darkness outside seemed to swallow them whole, leaving behind the sterile light of the underground.
In the cold, black night, only the faint glow of the dashboard lights illuminated their faces. The road ahead was long, the destination unknown. And in that silence, the weight of the unsaid words, the unanswered questions, hung between them like a blade poised to strike.
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๐๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ฏ'๐ด ๐ฉ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ฅ๐ณ๐ช๐ง๐ต๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ฑ๐ช๐ด๐ต๐ฐ๐ญ, ๐ง๐ช๐ฏ๐จ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ด ๐ฃ๐ณ๐ถ๐ด๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ค๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ญ ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ต๐ข๐ญ. ๐๐ช๐ด ๐ฎ๐ช๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ณ๐ข๐ค๐ฆ๐ฅ, ๐ด๐ค๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ข๐ณ๐ช๐ฐ๐ด ๐ฑ๐ญ๐ข๐บ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ต ๐ช๐ฏ ๐ณ๐ข๐ฑ๐ช๐ฅ ๐ด๐ถ๐ค๐ค๐ฆ๐ด๐ด๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ. ๐๐ข๐ค๐ฌ๐ถ๐ฑ, ๐บ๐ฆ๐ดโ๐ฃ๐ถ๐ต ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ฐ ๐ธ๐ข๐ด ๐ฃ๐ข๐ค๐ฌ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ถ๐ฑ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ฎ? ๐๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ฑ๐ถ๐ณ๐ฑ๐ฐ๐ด๐ฆ?
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PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA 
Vivid_Horizons
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