Marshal Wu strode through the grand entrance of the main palace, flanked by his loyal right-hand n. His presence was a formidable storm, commanding an aura of authority and strength. As they moved forward, the palace staff cowered and retreated into the shadows, fearful of drawing his gaze.
He was on a mission, eyes focused on the task at hand: to find the Imperial Lord. The journey took them to the lord’s private wing, only to find the double doors firmly shut. The sight of the unconscious Imperial Guards littering the floor sparked a flicker of concern in Marshal Wu’s steely deanour. His brow furrowed as he swiped the universal card through the lock, but the doors remained resolutely closed.
"Open it," he commanded, a re whisper of authority underlying his words. One of his n imdiately stepped forward, quickly hacking the system. Within seconds, the doors creaked open, revealing an unnervingly silent foyer.
Marshal Wu signalled towards the closed doors scattered throughout the wing and his n drew their weapons with silent precision. They fanned out, checking each room, while Marshal Wu advanced with imposing strides. His figure lood large and resolute against the dim light.
A small glint caught his eye. It was a door, slightly ajar. It was the entrance to the Imperial Study. He pushed the door open and was t with a scene of utter devastation. The room was a chaotic ss, as though a violent storm had torn through. Furniture was upended, walls bore deep gashes, papers were strewn about like autumn leaves, and glass crunched under their boots.
On the floor was a dark pool of blood led to streaks where sothing, no soone, had been dragged. Marshal Wu’s eyes narrowed, and he signalled for his n to remain vigilant. They drew their weapons again and followed the blood trail.
It ended abruptly at a wall, unmarred yet suspicious. With a nod, Marshal Wu ordered one of his n to scan it. A blue holographic panel materialized, revealing hidden chanisms within.
"There’s a concealed elevator here," the man reported.
"Can you break into it?" Marshal Wu’s voice was a low growl, filled with steely resolve.
With deft movents, the man tapped away at the screen, and monts later, the wall split open to reveal the entrance to a secret elevator.
The three n stepped into the blood-streaked elevator, the tallic scent of dried blood heavy in the air. As the doors slid shut with a dull thud, the enclosed space seed to hum with an ominous energy. Marshal Wu’s voice cut through the tense silence, "Prepare for anything."
"Yes, sir," his n responded in unison, their voices steady.
The elevator began its descent, the ride smooth and eerily quiet. When the doors finally opened, they were t with the sight of a dimly lit secret lab. The air was thick with the sterile scent of chemicals and the faint tallic tang of blood. The two n took point, plasma weapons raised, as they carefully followed the crimson trail. Marshal Wu’s steps were deliberate, each one echoing through the cavernous space.
A sudden breeze rustled a lace curtain, catching Marshal Wu’s attention. His brow furrowed as he felt a biting chill creep up his spine. With a firm hand, he pulled the curtain aside, revealing a glass tank filled with preservation fluid.
Inside lay the late Imperial Empress, her features serene yet ghostly. The sight stirred a rare flicker of surprise in Marshal Wu’s usually stoic deanour. His brow arched as he contemplated the depths of the Imperial Lord’s cruelty. To deny his wife eternal rest among the stars was beyond vile and heartless.
He was about to step closer when one of his n called out, "Marshal, we found sothing."
Reluctantly, Marshal Wu released the curtain and moved towards them. They stood before a large tal door, its surface gleaming cold and unyielding. The sight was enough to send a shiver through even the most hardened souls.
"Open it," the Marshal commanded.
The device was unmistakable. It was an instrunt of torture that was once used on the most violent criminals before they were decommissioned for their inhumanity. Yet here it was, in the Imperial Lord’s private lab. Who would have thought he had his own personal relic of cruelty?
The n scrambled to hack into the system, their fingers dancing over the controls. It didn’t take long before the door slid open, revealing a control room bathed in stark light. At the centre, a figure lounged with feet propped up on the control panel, the glow illuminating his features. The n raised their weapons, the tension palpable.
The figure nonchalantly put down the bottle of liquor he had been drinking and raised his hands, a sinister smile spreading across his face.
The figure smiled like an evil fiend, utterly relaxed despite the guns pointed at him. He was none other than Xiang Yu, his hands stained with blood. His clothes were torn in places, his face marked by bruises and streaked with carelessly wiped blood. His dishevelled hair and the casual way he lounged with his feet on the console added to his nacing appearance. The n knew him well; he was the Imperial Lord’s son, and their impressions of him were far from favourable.
Xiang Yu chuckled darkly, "It took you long enough, Marshal."
Marshal Wu remained unfazed by his presence. "I thought I told you not to kill him," he replied, his tone flat and unwavering.
Xiang Yu touched his chest pretending to be hurt by his words, "Wow, I didn’t think you made such assumptions about ."
Marshal Wu didn’t respond, his eyes instead following the trail of blood that led into another room. "Where is he?"
"I will show you," Xiang Yu said with a sinister smile. "Just tell your trigger-happy goons to stop pointing their guns at ."
With a reluctant gesture, Marshal Wu signalled for his n to lower their weapons. Despite their hesitation, they complied. Xiang Yu lowered his hands and tapped on the console.
The lights in the adjoining room flickered on, illuminating the Imperial Lord strapped to a bed. Probes stuck to his head, and a pained cry escaped his lips as his ntal power was torn to shreds.
The rcenaries stared at Xiang Yu with a mix of horror and disbelief. They had tortured many criminals, but ntal torture of this magnitude, especially inflicted on his own father, was monstrous. Xiang Yu took another sip of the bitter liquid, grimacing before setting it down. Wiping his lips with the back of his hand, he said, "See, I didn’t kill him."
Marshal Wu’s expression hardened. "Yeah, but he is worse than dead."
Xiang Yu shrugged, seemingly indifferent to the gravity of his actions. "My job is done here," he said, rising from his seat. "I will be heading back to my palace
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