Desperate for freedom, Mark was eager to leave the Resistance and return to the open world.
But there was a problem.
He had no idea where he was or where he was going.
He contemplated talking to the other powerborns in the bunker for directions but eventually decided against it.
If they were all working for Captain Savanna, one of them might try to stop him.
But to his surprise, he was met with little resistance as he explored the base.
When he finally asked the other powerborns for directions to leave the bunker, most of them were eager to help.
"The base was designed without a visible exit." One of the powerborns informed Mark. "That way, the Power containment agents cannot find us or infiltrate it."
"Hmm. So where exactly are we?" Mark asked.
"Well, I know we're underground, but I have no idea where the base is located."
"How do I get out then?"
"Well... The only way to leave this place is with the aid of a Spaceborn."
"And where do I find one?"
"Drey Belford. He is the only spaceborn who can get you out of here. He can make a portal to warp you wherever you want."
With further directions, Mark didn't take long to find Drey.
"I must warn you. You'll be much safer here than outside." The blonde male powerborn informed Mark.
Upon hearing his voice, Mark recognized him as the spaceborn who helped him escape from the agency.
He spoke with a tone that portrayed humility, even though Mark could tell right away that Drey was from a wealthy family.
"I need to leave right now."
"Did the captain send you on a mission already?"
"No. I have no interest in working for her."
"Oh... too bad." Drey had been sitting on a chair in his room, reading a book, but he stood up and walked towards Mark.
Mark was quite tall for his age, but Drey was even taller.
"Captain Savanna is the only one on this planet who cares about powerborns. If you spend time with her, you'll realize she's not as bad as you think."
"Not interested."
"Alright then."
Drey moved over to a side of his room where he stood facing an empty wall.
"I don't usually do this without her permission, but I assume you don't have permission."
Mark shook his head.
"Thought so." Drey closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. "Let's just get this over with."
When he opened his eyes again, they began to glow with a bright red aura. He then raised both arms and faced his palms at the empty wall.
"Where are you going?" Drey asked.
Of course, there was only one place Mark knew to go.
Home.
"Grandview City."
Drey swiftly deactivated his aura and turned to Mark.
"Are you sure about that?"
Mark could sense the hesitance in Drey's tone. But whatever the reason was, he remained adamant
"Alright then," Drey responded.
Once again, Drey raised his arms toward the wall. A red dot soon appeared, glowing brighter with each passing second.
Drey slowly pulled his hands apart, the dot growing larger as he did so, until it exploded into a red portal.
[NOTIFICATION: New Ability Detected]
[Intra-dimensional Portal, Level 2 (P-Type: Spaceborn)]
[COPY STATUS: Unavailable. Zero empty slots]
Mark marveled once again at the feat. Having the power to go anywhere in the world was exciting.
I'll have to figure out how to create a new power slot, Mark thought.
Drey took off his watch and offered it to Mark. It was the same type that Natalya wore.
"Wear this. If you ever need help, just push this button three times, and I'll come get you."
Mark stared at the watch. Wearing it also meant that Captain Savanna could track his whereabouts. He couldn't afford that.
"I don't want your help," Mark declined, his voice cold and uncaring.
"Suit yourself. Just be careful out there. It's a dangerous world for powerborns."
Despite his disdain toward Savanna, Mark could tell that Drey was trying to be a genuine friend. With a slight nod, he offered his gratitude and walked through the portal.
As it vanished behind him, Mark found himself in an abandoned subway.
The first thing he noticed was the silence. Not a tranquil type, but the eerie silence of a place completely abandoned.
He walked up the stairs to the main street. Hoping things would be different. But it wasn't.
It was barely mid-day, but the atmosphere was bleak. The sky above was a permanent shade of gray, as if the world had completely forgotten how to breathe sunlight. Dust floated in the air, mixing with ash and smoke to form a brown haze.
Tall buildings on the main street loomed like broken skeletons, their glass panes shattered and hollow.
Black vines of power cables and wires dangled like veins ripped from a corpse.
There were no sounds. No birds. No cars. Not even the distant hum of life.
As Mark walked down the street, his shoes crunching over broken glass, he noticed the roads were cracked and filled with huge craters.
Abandoned cars sat like tombstones, half-swallowed by the earth.
Neon signs on former stores flickered weakly, their messages now useless. Barely functioning digital billboards displayed broken advertisements, but no one was watching anymore.
Despite the stillness of the entire atmosphere, there was one Mark couldn't help but notice.
The silent drones.
They flew above the streets, just out of reach of any human, quietly scanning, observing, reporting.
Mark instinctively ducked behind a car as one flew toward him and froze in mid air for a while. Just as he was about to strike it down, the device suddenly flew away, failing to notice him.
Without being told, Mark knew he had to avoid the drones. He slowly emerged from his hiding spot and kept moving.
He finally left the main street, making a left turn. He was now on Harbor Street, heading to his old house.
The buildings on this road were smaller but were equally deserted ruins.
Once, he walked these streets with his mother, holding her hand, laughing at the silly stories she told him. She bought him tasty food from street vendors, and they ate while laughing at street performers.
All of it was gone now, just like she was.
Scattered along the sidewalks, Mark began to notice a few signs of life - makeshift tents hidden in alleyways, blankets turned into curtains, and half-lit barrel fires.
Strange people watched him from the shadows, wearing skeptical, tired eyes. They were survivors who had seen better days, trying to last another day in a city that had already given up on itself.
As Mark quietly observed it all, one question kept tormenting him.
What happened to this city - his city?
The entire city used to be bright, cheerful, and full of life.
Now, every corner of the street whispered loss, and every alley reeked of desolation.
This wasn't a city. Not anymore.
It was a graveyard pretending to be alive.
Mark walked further down the road, which led to his house, where his childhood had once been.
His breath caught in his throat, and a familiar tightness gripped his chest when he saw the remains of what his neighborhood had become.
The once vibrant rows of houses now lay wasted, their facades ruined by time and neglect.
The closer he got to his own house, the heavier the weight on his chest became.
Then, he arrived.
It barely resembled the place he remembered.
The paint had long peeled away, and the windows were broken, leaving the structure bare and exposed.
He hesitated for a moment before stepping onto the path to the front door. His heartbeat sped up with each step, and a mix of dread and anticipation rose.
As he pushed on the front door, it creaked with a mournful sigh, as if the house had been patiently waiting for him to return.
Inside, the air was filled with dust and decay. The familiar scent of his mother's cooking was long gone, replaced by the stale smell of rot.
What remained of the furniture was covered in sheets, and the walls were empty and bare.
Mark moved through the living room, searching for something he couldn't name. His mind flashed back to when this house was filled with laughter, warmth, and life.
He remembered how his mother's voice echoed through the walls, beckoning him to come to her. Her voice was gentle and steady, always making him feel safe, even as the world shifted around them.
He closed his eyes as the weight of his earliest memories pressed down on him.
He saw Christina's face, smiling down at him when he first discovered his powers. Her eyes were always vibrant, even in the face of adversity.
No matter how bad he had felt before, she had always been there to comfort him.
"Cheer up, Marcus. Put your smile back on, baby. Tomorrow will be nice to us, I promise."
But that was before that fateful night when his life completely changed.
[WARNING: Cortisol levels elevated]
Overcome with grief, Mark fell on the floor. The cold tears he held behind, began to flow freely.
"It's all my fault," He cried.
He lay down for a few minutes, refusing to get up. But he knew his tears couldn't change the past, so he got right back up.
Eventually, Mark reached the hallway that led to his bedroom, the very place where his world ended.
Somehow, he could almost see his mother's body as it lay lifelessly on the floor. But all that was left, was the chalk outline of her posture when she died.
The door to his bedroom stood ajar, and he stepped inside.
The room was untouched by time, frozen in a moment that seemed ages ago.
Part of him wanted to sit on the bed, to rest and pretend that things had never changed. But another part knew that this was no longer his home.
Unwilling to set foot in any other room, Mark turned around and left the house.
His past was gone - buried under this decaying city.
With one last look at the old structure, Mark walked away from his neighborhood, resolved never to return.
He had no idea where he was headed next, but one thing was sure.
He had to find out what happened to this city.
With a new goal in mind, Mark found his way back into the streets, determined to find someone to talk to.
[WARNING: Armed hostile detected]
Mark suddenly heard a crunch behind him; the sound of glass breaking under the pressure of a boot.
Someone else had been following him.