Encino – Warehouse
The sound of fists striking flesh echoed through the warehouse, each blow a brutal reminder of what was at stake. Mike moved with everything he had, pushing his body past its limits. Unit 17, a living weapon, was an unstoppable force—every punch, every kick calculated with deadly precision. Yet Mike refused to back down. He could feel the weight of his past, of his training, and the responsibility to protect those he loved.
Unit 17 was faster, stronger, but Mike had something that the other man didn't—a drive forged in years of surviving impossible odds, of battling through his own personal hell. This wasn't just about victory. This was about redemption.
Unit 17's fist collided with Mike's stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Mike staggered back, gasping for air, but his resolve never faltered. He rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding another strike aimed at his head.
"You can't keep up," Unit 17 taunted, his voice robotic, devoid of emotion. "You'll break. Just like everyone else."
Mike gritted his teeth, pushing himself back to his feet. "I'm not everyone else," he spat. "I'm Mike Harris. And I don't break."
The two locked eyes, and for a split second, Mike saw something behind Unit 17's cold expression—something human. It was fleeting, but it was there. The man that stood before him was no longer just a machine. Somewhere beneath the programming, beneath the violence, was a person who had been torn apart by forces beyond his control.
Mike knew this was his chance. He wasn't just fighting to survive. He was fighting for the man who had once been his brother, for the humanity that still existed inside him. This was the final moment—where past and future collided, where the ghosts of war and betrayal could be laid to rest.
With a roar, Mike lunged, his fists moving in a blur. He struck Unit 17's chest with everything he had, driving his knee into the man's side. For a brief moment, it felt as if the world held its breath. Then Unit 17's body crumpled, collapsing to the ground with a deafening thud.
Mike stood over him, his body trembling, his muscles on fire. The fight was over. But the question still hung in the air: had he truly won?
Germany – FANG V2 Compound
Dr. Kessler stood before her console, watching the final moments of the battle unfold. Her eyes narrowed as she observed Unit 17 fall. She wasn't surprised. She'd always known that Mike Harris was more than just a soldier—he was a force of nature.
But this was far from over. Mike had beaten one of her creations, but there were more. Always more.
Her fingers hovered over the controls. "Prepare Phase Two," she ordered. "Activate the other units."
Kessler turned to face the empty room behind her. "The game is not finished, Mike Harris. You may have defeated one shadow, but the darkness is only growing."
Encino – Warehouse
Mike stood over Unit 17's fallen form, his breath ragged. He had won the fight, but he felt no satisfaction. There was only an aching void, a gnawing emptiness that nothing could fill. His eyes flicked to Johnny and Tory, who had watched the fight from the sidelines. They approached cautiously, both of them visibly shaken by the ferocity of the battle.
"You good?" Johnny asked, his voice low.
Mike nodded, though it felt like a lie. "I've been better."
Tory stepped forward, her eyes scanning the room. "What now?"
Mike glanced at Unit 17's body, then back at his friends. He didn't have an answer. He had faced down his past, fought the demons that had haunted him for years, but the war wasn't over. It wasn't even close.
"The fight's not over," Mike said quietly. "Kessler's still out there. And she's going to keep sending people after us. After me."
Johnny's jaw tightened. "We won't let her win."
Tory nodded in agreement. "Together, we'll take her down."
Mike looked at them, his heart swelling with a mixture of gratitude and fear. He didn't know if they could win, but he wasn't alone anymore. And that—just that—was a victory in itself.
"Alright," Mike said, determination setting into his voice. "Let's end this."
Germany – FANG V2 Compound
Kessler's gaze shifted from the screen to the array of data flowing in front of her. The failure of Unit 17 wasn't unexpected, but it still stung. She'd underestimated Mike Harris's resolve, but that would be the last time.
"Activate Phase Two," she ordered again, her tone colder now. "We're escalating the operation. Send in the Wraith units."
She paused, her lips curling into a cruel smile. "Let's see how he fares against the next wave."
Encino – Mike's Apartment
Later that night, Mike sat in his apartment, staring out the window at the city below. The battle with Unit 17 had left its mark—physically and mentally—but Mike knew it wasn't the end. It was just another chapter in the war he had never asked for, a war that was only getting darker.
Johnny and Tory were sitting in the kitchen, talking quietly. Mike knew they were trying to figure out their next move. But Mike had his own plans. He had to find Kessler, stop her before she could hurt anyone else.
His phone buzzed on the table, and Mike picked it up, his eyes narrowing as he saw the message that appeared on the screen.
"The Wraith is coming."
Mike didn't need an explanation. He knew who they were. The Wraith units were Kessler's elite assassins—trained in the most brutal combat tactics, programmed to track and eliminate any threat with cold efficiency.
Mike stood, his fists clenching.
"This isn't over," he muttered under his breath. "Not by a long shot."
----
As Mike prepares for the next battle against Kessler's deadly Wraith units, the stakes grow even higher. Will Mike and his team be able to survive the relentless assault, or will the shadow of Kessler's creations finally overwhelm them? The final confrontation is drawing near.