Prologue: Project R

"Project R!"

A hushed buzz of anticipation filled the air as an intense pressure gripped his chest.

The unsettling sound of bones fracturing echoed through the space.

"Step back! You've shattered his ribs."

"Project R, do you hear us?"

"Come on, stay with us, Project R, open your eyes!"

"Raven!" His name resonated through the tense atmosphere.

The weight of pressure intensified on his chest, each compression accompanied by a sense of urgency.

"Too weak, he's not breathing."

"Damn it! He shouldn't finish this assessment. He has medical conditions. Why you let him finish it until the very end!!!"

The rhythmic cadence of resuscitation cut through the air, breaths forced into his unresponsive body, expanding his chest with each life-saving attempt. 

"We got some requests and they sign the agreement letter for it."

"Project R collapsed, he's experiencing cardiac arrest, and we're attempting to bring him back."

The room seemed to hold its breath, gripped by the gravity of the situation, as every effort was poured into reviving the fading spark of life within him.

"Do whatever it takes. He must come back," his father's voice resolute.

"Understood."

"Raven, I'm here. Come back," Alaric's voice pleaded.

"Raven! Wake up! Rise, my child!" The desperate cries echoed from the distraught figure, his mother.

"Project R achieved the highest score, ranking first in all assessments.

However, due to pushing himself in the endurance assessment, he experienced cardiac arrest," a brief report stated.

…

BANG!

…

The sound of a gunshot echoed.

A thud followed as a body hit the floor.

Someone was dead, and Raven could still hear and feel everything.

The sudden shift from achievement to tragedy left an eerie silence, punctuated only by the lingering echoes of the fatal event.

"Didn't I make it clear? He only needed to assert his position, no need to reclaim the top spot," the voice echoed with a tone of frustration.

…

BANG!

…

The sharp report of the gunshot filled the space.

A heavy thud followed, signaling the collapse of a life onto the unforgiving floor.

Once again, the grim aftermath unfolded, the air thick with the lingering taste of tragedy.

Another soul lost to the relentless pursuit of success, leaving behind a haunting silence that whispered of the high cost paid for the elusive top position.

Raven grappled with the searing pain inflicted by the hands that sought to bring him back. 

A silent observer to his own struggle, he yearned to lash out at those attempting to revive him, a frustrating inability to communicate his distress.

If only he could command his limbs to respond, he would have undoubtedly delivered a resounding rebuke to all involved.

The relentless waves of pain surged through him, a cruel reminder of the fine line between life and the void. 

In the stillness of his muted existence, the torment echoed louder than any words he could muster.

"Raven," Alaric's voice persisted, a lifeline in the darkness. "Follow my voice. Wake up."

Pain.

A ceaseless torrent, each surge more punishing than the last.

The relentless assault of agony seemed to know no bounds, leaving Raven suspended in a world where only the language of pain spoke.

Only the echoes of pain lingered, drowning out any semblance of relief or respite.

And darkness enveloped him, a shroud that concealed the world beyond, leaving Raven trapped in the void between consciousness and the abyss.

"Don't give up, Raven! Because I won't give up!"

The rallying cry pierced through Raven's desire for tranquil repose. 

He resented the intrusion, yearning only for undisturbed slumber—hovering, drifting in the serene void of emptiness. 

The struggle between persistence and the allure of quiet oblivion intensified, casting him into the delicate balance between the pull of resolute voices and the beckoning embrace of undisturbed rest.

"Stop, Alaric! Stop chasing me! Give up! Just give up! Are you stupid?!" Raven's frustration erupted like a torrent, the words a desperate plea to halt the unyielding pursuit.

"Why can't you comprehend the simple command to 'stop'? Why pursue me to this extent?! Utterly foolish!" The echoes of Raven's outcry reverberated in the void, caught between the desire for solitude and the ceaseless chase that defied reason.

But he couldn't carry out his plea.

The inexorable pull of the expanding darkness had swallowed him too deeply.

Each word echoed like a fading cry in a cavern, drowned out by the overwhelming abyss that held him captive.

"Still too weak. We almost lost him," the person exclaimed, their efforts to revive Raven evident in the persistent pressure on his chest.

"What's your defense this time?"

"With this, Project R secures the top position! He successfully reclaimed his standing within this organization." The triumphant declaration cut through the lingering tension, signaling a precarious victory amid the precariousness of Raven's weakened state.

BANG!

The acrid scent of gun smoke hung in the air, accompanying the unsettling echo of bullets colliding with the floor.

"You can still discuss achievements at a time like this. Foolish," the disdainful remark cut through the tension, emphasizing the absurdity of focusing on accomplishments in the midst of such chaos.

"Administer epinephrine and prepare the defibrillator," the doctor ordered.

The machine whirred as it charged.

"Clear."

"Clear."