ALAIN ARCHER'S POV

Hank brought the van to rest in front of a barnyard. Not a soul could be spotted on the land under the faint glow of moonlight.

"Where are the guards?" I pondered before recalling I had a more pressing matter to attend to.

I hollered. "Everybody, out." And the doors slid open. In seconds, my men had vacated the van, along with Nic, who filed out last.

Upfront, Hank had unbuckled his seatbelt and was about to get up from his seat. But a clasp on his shoulder made him sit tight. "Not you." My voice was barely a mummer.

I could feel it in my soul; pure, undiluted fear. Such a thing must have been reflecting on my face, no?

Donning a pair of dark shades, I faced my men from inside the vehicle. "Everyone -" I cleared my throat. Making my voice deeper, sterner. "Everyone into the barn. Pop open the trunks and get familiar with those weapons. Nic, I trust you can explain how they work?"

He squared his shoulders, trying to sound braver than he looked. "Yes, Uncle. We snagged a pretty detailed instruction manual alongside the weapons."

I nodded. "Poursuivre."

All ten of them turned and headed toward the massive red barn, leaving me, my thoughts, and the henchmen I trusted the most.

A deep sigh broke the silence. "Hank, over two weeks ago, you took a bullet for me in a shootout. That was the point where I knew I could trust you with my life. And hence," a short pause as I breathed out the words. "The life of Cameron."

Hank twisted back as far as his seat could let him. "I...I don't understand."

"His new eye, it arrives next week. In case I don't come out of this alive, I want you to promise me that you'll make sure the eye gets to him and you'll take him safely to his mother."

He looked startled, and rightfully so. "You're always calculated, Boss. One step ahead. Are you sure I'm the right person for this?"

"I like the image I've created. But no one can be one step ahead of a sudden alien invasion. You're right." I leaned forward, face bleak and hands stiffly laced. "You are a rushed choice. But you are also the best choice I've got. I would have entrusted him to Nic, but my nephew and the streets are...polar opposites. So, can you promise me?"

He barely hesitated. "I give you my word."

I feigned a smile. "Good. Now drive to my mansion, and stay by his side."

"But Boss, don't you need all hands on deck?"

"Those are your orders, Hank. If worse comes to worst, I'm counting on you to protect Cameron at all costs."

"The 'Walking Myth' couldn't kill you. That red bastard can't. I'll see you back at the mansion, Boss."

A grin spread across my face. "I'll be there as soon as I've dealt with our pest problem. While you wait for me, though, check out the fireplace. It's more important than it seems."

The moment I hopped out of the van, the engine started.

Alright. My focus shifted as I trod towards the barn. Let's get down to business.

The closer I came, the more I could make out the shapes of farmers sprawled across the soil with their joints twisted abnormally. No movement. They were definitely dead.

My stomach knotted in dissatisfaction. "So this is what happened to my guards. So much for disguises."

I pushed the groaning wooden doors open and walked in on a Nic lecture.

White tiles on the floor, white arching roof, lots of filament bulbs; the same way I left it. All the fleet of cars was still intact. Whoever killed my guards outside might have just wanted to send me a message. But I knew better, and I got the impression that the worst was yet to come.

Standing on the far end of the lane between the left fleet and the right fleet of cars, were Nic and the ten henchmen who stared at him intently as he spoke, like eager students at a lecturer.

They all wielded sunset yellow guns that vaguely resembled assault rifles and better resembled those weapons from the space operas that Cameron liked to watch before his mother managed to get him hooked on telenovelas.

"And the plasma particles have a bit less recoil than a bullet, so be conscious of that. But overall, the engineers designed it in a way that it's easy to operate if you're used to an assault rifle."

"Are you?" One of them jested, and the rest erupted into laughter until they saw me, of course.

The abrupt silence and simultaneous straightening of posture caused Nic to turn around, no doubt in a bid to identify the cause.

He mouthed an 'oh' as his gaze locked on me, adjusting my red tie and slowly striding towards them in a sleek black suit. My polished black loafers echoed in the silent space.

"Have you tested the weapons?"

Nic cleared his throat. "I've taught them how to fully operate the rifles."

Gloom blanketed my face. "Don't be evasive."

"No, we haven't, Bossman." Cage followed up.

I fumed. "What are you waiting for? Do you think Kazar is sitting in the lair with a clipboard and a fountain pen in hand to test your performance?"

"What should we shoot, Boss?"

I spied a red sports car close to the entrance. It was fairly isolated from the rest of the vehicles, closer to the left lane, but still isolated.

"Target practice on that red car over there."

Nic interjected. "Are you sure? It looks quite expensive."

I rolled my eyes before steering clear of my men's path. "Fire away."

Cage stepped forward, and the others formed close ranks beside him. Almost in sync, they fired plasma bolts in the car's direction. They projected with a shrill sound like a thunderclap, and though they were slower than bullets, they were almost instant.

Unfortunately, none of the bolts touched the intended target. Though Cage's shot came closest to the point that its area damage burst a tire, the rest pelted the ground and the wooden doors behind the car.

I crossed my arms in disappointment. Sure, it wasn't the type of guns they were used to, but I believed they could've done better. "Practice is the true test of capability."

They lowered their weapons. My gaze steeled. "Again. Like your lives depend on it! Like you want to get rid of a pest before it gets rid of you!"

Rapid fires followed. My eyes traced the trajectory to catch the car blow up with a thunderous boom. More plasma bolts fed the flames, causing a chain of explosions.

I took a deep breath. Satisfaction.

With a raise of my palm, everyone paused. I nodded approvingly, and they grinned wide-eyed at their plasma rifles.

"For you, Uncle." Nic lifted a peculiarly designed minigun and presented it to me. Painted sunset yellow with three long rotating barrels, a solid stock, a black pistol grip and trigger, and a golden tank placed on the side of it. Two handles were also placed on the gun, a gold one placed at the end of the barrel, and a black one placed at the rear of the gun, which sported two switches.

"The weapon fires five bolts per shot at eight shots a second," he narrated as I wrapped my fingers around the handles. "And it has an impressive 900-round ammo capacity. However, it has to be spun for a few seconds before it can be fired. And steer clear of the tank region, that's the primary site for the plasma generation so it can get heated."

"Enough words," I aimed at the raging fire where the sports car once stood. "It's time for action."

For the first few seconds, it was like the minigun had a mind of its own and I almost fully lost control but I envisioned Cameron and all the major mountains I had climbed to get to the top of the ladder. I envisioned my legacy, and I got a grip, straining my muscles to direct the weapon, and fired voraciously at the intended spot.

Rounds of explosions, a hell of a noise, a wicked grin.

Lowering the gun, I faced my squad. "Gentlemen, let's give the boot to our unwanted guest."

Cage turned to a lever that was attached to an iron pillar behind him. With a pull, the center of the room began to rumble. We all strode to the center, right before it began to slowly descend.

About twenty feet underground, it stopped. There was supposed to be a sealed metal hatch in front of us with a password box beside it. Instead, there was an empty door frame, a silent tunnel beyond, and what looked like a crumpled metal door on the floor in front of us.

"He squeezed steel like aluminum foil." I tightened my grip on my minigun. "It's official, he's dropped his act of benevolence. No time to lose."

Men on a mission, we bounced into the tunnel, taking brisk steps under its dim lighting.

"Straight to my office," I ordered without looking back. "That's where he was assembling that contraption."

The deeper we went, the louder the sound of crackling electricity grew. This can't be good. A few turns and passageways later, we emerged in front of my office; burst down wall and all.

The first thing I noticed was that the place was littered with bodies, some impaled with long red spikes.

The second thing I noticed; the room was larger— probably open-space-renovated.

The third thing I noticed; the contraption was complete. A horrible marvel.

I beheld a giant white metal ring. Very dense with glowing red lines zigzagging around it. Red particles seemed to be drawn from its inner edges to its center, clumping to form what resembled a bright, unstable core.

A stone's throw away to the left side of the device was a white metal cylindrical capsule standing about five feet tall. The front of the capsule, however, wasn't covered by metal like the other parts but instead by a red forcefield.

The capsule was connected to the device by thick white cables. Judging from the red pulses that flowed from left to right, I suspected that whatever was in the capsule was a power source.

I highly suspected that it was Tekeon's other alien half. But my focus was on the elephant in the room. Or rather the big red monster.

Kazar towered beside the machine. Harrowing beady eyes fixated on the door like he had been expecting me. His grave voice confirmed it.

"As I said, Archer," He spread out his claws. "I'm disappointed."

I gulped down the fear. It was 'kill or be killed'. I pulled the trigger on my minigun, but just like Nic said, the barrels began to rotate without firing--it was charging up.

With all the boldness I could muster, I swore. "When I'm done with you, you'll feel a lot more than disappointment!"

A low beep indicated it was charged. "Fire!"

I let a rip, and my men joined me.
The air lighted with green plasma bolts. Some were off-target, but the ones that struck Kazar had an impact.

He had his forearms crossed in an 'X' over his face and when a bolt collided with the edge of his left forearm, not only did he slide backward from the impact but after the smoke cleared, I spied a small visible crack on his metallic skin.

I grinned while he examined it in awe. Another round of plasma bolts successfully made contact, and in seconds, the explosion had created a shroud of smoke. But we knew better than to cease fire.

We continued our relentless assault, bombarding the same area as we inched closer.

Suddenly, from beyond the smoke, a wild crimson beam streamed out with breakneck speed and bombarded the man on my extreme right. The explosion engulfed about five more men. The rest of us fell on our fours and scrambled for cover.

I ducked behind my overturned desk close to the entrance, contemplating whether to make a beeline until the red beam passed by me with the sound of a thousand thunderclaps and brought a section of the roof down on the entrance, sealing us in our tombs.

My breathing was heavy, my heart threatening to burst out of my chest.

"Tonight," I heard the roar of Kazar. "Is your last night!"

Stomping was getting closer. If I came out of hiding, there was less than a fifty percent chance I'd finish him off. On the flip side, if I remained here, I might as well slab a tombstone on the spot and call it my grave.

Alas, what happened next had me thinking I was in a dream. Something broke through the wall by the side of the entrance— someone.

The stomping stilled, even Kazar was examining our uninvited guest.

My eyes scanned him from his feet up. Skyblue metal boots, black pants, sky blue elbow-length metal gloves, dark green sweater with the hoodie down, sky blue motorcycle helmet with a white face shield.

He huffed and puffed, but it wasn't tiredness. It was rage.

Nic, I, and a strange robotic voice wondered in unison. "Jason?"