Brandon

(Beginning of Act Two)

Tyler found himself in the parking lot behind the address that Michael had given him. There was nothing that made it look out of the ordinary. Before the economic downturn the last few years, there were a number of wrestling and combat training gyms around the city. As things got pricier and harder to afford, people started to cut back on the things that were considered ‘wants’ instead of ‘needs’. And one of those casualties was a number of gyms in the area.

Getting out of the truck, Tyler looked at the back of the building and immediately noticed that there was a camera on the back of the building pointing at him and it was operational. That was the first sign that something out of the ordinary was going on. For the first time in a long time, Tyler wasn’t sure what was about to happen and honestly right now it didn’t matter. He needed answers and by god he was going to get some.

Walking up to the door, he was about to text Michael that he had arrived but the door opened and there stood Andrew. He was dressed in a tight black short sleeve shirt and jeans. For a minute he didn’t have an expression on his face before he smiled slightly.

“You came,” he said matter-of-factly.

Tyler returned the half smile. “You told me to,” he replied.

Andrew shook his head. “No, Michael gave you the address,” he said. “You chose to come. You didn’t have to.”

Tyler guessed he was right. Looking back on everything that had transpired, there was nothing that had forced him to this moment. At each step along the way he made a choice and those choices led him to this moment.

“Let’s get you inside shall we?” Andrew asked and motioned for Tyler to follow him.

Once inside, Tyler realized immediately that it felt familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. It was a gym with weights, a combat cage and a wrestling ring. The smell of sweat permeated the entire room and it all felt almost too comfortable to Tyler.

But at the same time, he noticed that just like outside there were cameras in the corners of the room all active. There was no music, no casual chatter about what had happened the night before on television or with the latest sports score. Even though it was later in the evening, there were a few young men working out and everything was very precise, very… controlled.

Andrew led Tyler through the room and pointed out a few things. There was the typical WOD on a whiteboard but instead of a flashy name it had just a number attached to it. Andrew pointed to a door that has ‘Restricted Access’ on it and said, “Don’t even go near that door.”

“Why?” Tyler asked in response. “Booby trapped with lasers?”

Andrew didn’t respond verbally but grunted instead and that got Tyler to shut up with the smart ass comments for the moment. Tyler realized that he had walked from a world of performance and chaos into a world of precision, control and training. It was just like how he felt in the military and Tyler had to admit that it felt good.

Opening a door into one of the side rooms, Andrew said to the man inside, “He’s here.”

Turning from looking at a screen that had information about various men that Tyler assumed were out there training, Michael looked at him. Now dressed in similar clothing to Andrew, the casualness that Michael once had been replaced with a sense of control and professionalism. He was no longer somebody that Tyler grabbed a beer with. Now he was something different.

“No more half truths tonight,” Michael said.

Tyler looked at Michael and then back at Andrew. “Then you might start telling me the truth,” Tyler replied.

“The truth is simply that you weren’t the target,” Michael said. “You were the test.”

Tyler shook his head in confusion. “What in the absolute fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asked. “What the fuck is Hydra? Who the fuck are you guys?”

“Hydra is a system,” Michael replied simply.

Looking at Michael, Tyler was starting to get more pissed off by the minute. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? I thought you fucking said no more half-truths. Stop playing these games or I’m fucking walking out of here right now,” he said as he looked at Michael. He could feel Andrew tense slightly at that last statement but he didn’t care.

“It is,” Michael said. “You’re just used to systems like families, businesses, promotions, governments and even armies. Hydra doesn’t pretend. Hydra identifies potential, removes waste and builds purpose.”

Tyler looked at Michael for a long moment. Something about this entire situation made he want to punch a wall but at the same time another part of him wanted to calm down and listen to what the hell he was being told.

“All right,” Tyler said after taking a deep breath. “Really… what are you?”

“Most people think recruitment starts with a sales pitch,” Andrew answers instead. “It’s not. Recruitment starts with observation.”

“You were watching me,” Tyler replied.

“Yes,” Andrew said. “Those men out there in the gym have been recruited by Hydra yes. But we are still observing them, testing them, examining their reactions to certain situations in and outside of this controlled environment. Do you know why?”

“Because that’s the only way you’ll get a true feeling of who that person is,” Tyler replied. “They can write on an application form anything they want to but if they can’t handle the pressure, than its all been for nothing.”

“Exactly,” Andrew replied. “Hydra observes and targets those who are in need of purpose, of guidance. There are those who might consider us nothing more than a cult or some sort of group of brainwashed men who didn’t have anywhere else to turn.”

At that moment, Tyler looked at Andrew and said, “That brings up the question. What about Robert?”

Michael and Andrew looked at each for a moment before Michael chimed in with, “Robert is why you are here.”

Tyler looked at Michael and frowned. “Don’t you use me to get to him. Don’t you fucking use him,” he said.

“No,” Michael replied as he shook his head. “We’re not. They’re the ones who used him. Everybody around him has used him. We’re asking you what you are willing to do about it?”

“Me?” Tyler asked. “I thought.. Wait… I’m confused. What the hell is going on here.”

“We don’t ‘rescue’ people Tyler,” Michael said. “Hydra isn’t in the business of taking men into being nice and comfort them as they get their lives back together. We don’t tell broken men that they are fine. We show them what they could survive.”

“Robert doesn’t need pity or a shoulder to cry on,” Andrew says. “He needs structure, discipline and a purpose.”

Thinking back to the last moment that Tyler had talked to Robert, the word trash came back to him. Robert felt like he was nothing more than garbage but that wasn’t true. Tyler saw that Robert could become much more than he currently was if somebody… anybody believed in his potential.

“Why me?” Tyler asked. “Why approach me and not Robert?”

“You know how to build belief. You did it with a flag, a ring, a costume. The fans believed in you because you believed in what you were wearing and saying. You stopped believing in it and that’s why you’re here. But think about it. Imagine what you could do if you could do it with something that is real,” Michael said.

“Men like Robert already listen to you,” Andrew adds. “That matters more than you can possibly imagine.”

“Robert has so much potential but so do you,” Michael continues with. “You were wasted as a symbol. It’s time you start finding your own potential as a builder.”

“Then… I guess… what’s next? An oath? A uniform? Signing over my first born kid?” Tyler asked after a moment.

“No,” Michael replied as he shook his head. He touched something on the desk in front of him and the screen changed to show a profile of Robert Alexander. 

“If you want to stop seeing men being wasted,” Michael said, “It’s time for you to see them as they truly are and not what you want them to be.”

“We want you to observe Robert,” Andrew added. “Talk to him and see where his mind is. But evaluate him. Examine him. Look at him and verify his strengths and weaknesses.”

Tyler stood there, looking at the screen and realized that he had walked into something more, something greater than just becoming a mindless drone.

Looking at the image of Robert, Tyler realized that for weeks he had wanted to show him what Hydra really was.

Now he understood.

Hydra wasn’t the door.

Hydra was what waited on the other side, asking him what he was willing to build.

Part One: Protection

APEX Global Security’s primary armed division is VANGUARD.

VANGUARD is deployed when conventional forces fail, withdraw, hesitate, or refuse to act. Where instability threatens civilians, infrastructure, personnel, or strategic resources, VANGUARD provides the force necessary to restore order.

Those who request VANGUARD assistance receive the following:

Security. VANGUARD protects facilities, staff, supply routes, command centers, research sites, convoys, processing centers, and vital resources.

Stabilization and peacekeeping. When rebellious elements, militant factions, criminal actors, or destabilizing forces threaten regional order, VANGUARD serves as a buffer force. Its presence reduces chaos, contains escalation, and restores operational control.

Civilian protection. Conflict does not limit its damage to combatants. Civilians are displaced, targeted, exploited, and abandoned by those who claim authority over them. VANGUARD protects those who cannot protect themselves.

Professional force projection. Unlike mercenary groups and private military contractors that exploit instability for profit, VANGUARD operates under APEX doctrine. Its personnel are trained, evaluated, disciplined, and deployed with one priority:

mission security.

VANGUARD stands between humanity and the collapse the old world has failed to prevent.

Part Two: Stabilization

Protection is not passive.

There are factions that interpret security as occupation. There are leaders who interpret order as a threat. There are armed groups that reject stabilization because chaos allows them to profit, recruit, intimidate, and survive.

When such elements attack schools, markets, facilities, convoys, infrastructure, or civilian populations, negotiation is no longer the primary instrument.

VANGUARD responds.

When disorder becomes entrenched, protection must advance. Defensive posture becomes active stabilization. Patrols become raids. Containment becomes suppression. Observation becomes removal.

VANGUARD is a protection force.

VANGUARD is also a combat force.

Those who strike at it do not face scattered contractors or undisciplined soldiers for hire. They face the full operational weight of an APEX division built to endure pressure, break resistance, and impose control.

Part Three: The Spear

VANGUARD enters operational territory as the spear.

Upon deployment, the area of operation is treated as unstable until proven otherwise. Assumptions are liabilities. Sentiment is a weakness. Every road, structure, signal, crowd, checkpoint, and access point is evaluated as a potential threat vector.

VANGUARD secures entry.

VANGUARD breaks resistance.

VANGUARD controls movement.

VANGUARD seizes facilities, protects assets, isolates hostile elements, and establishes compliance across the operational field.

Force is not applied for spectacle.

Force is applied to end uncertainty.

Where resistance organizes, VANGUARD disrupts it. Where hostile actors gather, VANGUARD disperses them. Where command structures oppose stabilization, VANGUARD removes them.

The spear does not ask permission to enter.

It advances.

Part Four: The Shield

Once VANGUARD is established, it does not withdraw simply because open conflict has ended.

Conflict is not the only form of instability.

A region can appear calm while resistance reorganizes. A population can appear compliant while hostile networks remain intact. A facility can appear secure while weak points still exist beneath the surface.

VANGUARD remains.

Checkpoints are established. Patrol routes are maintained. Facilities are reinforced. Compliance zones are created. Bases are constructed to extend APEX authority and protect long-term stabilization efforts.

Civilians inside the operational field are required to follow VANGUARD protocol. Movement is monitored. Access is controlled. Threat indicators are recorded and reviewed.

To outsiders, this may appear as occupation.

To APEX, it is continuity.

The shield remains because disorder returns when strength leaves too early.

Part Five: The Trooper

VANGUARD welcomes those who possess the discipline, courage, endurance, and adaptability necessary to serve as the visible force of APEX.

The process begins with the Recruit.

A Recruit has accepted APEX doctrine but has not yet entered full processing. Recruits remain in contact with APEX personnel who prepare them for transfer, intake, evaluation, and assignment.

Upon arrival at a training facility, the Recruit becomes a Cadet.

Cadets are processed. Their former identity is removed from operational relevance. They receive standardized grooming, a cadet uniform, and an APEX identification barcode at the back of the neck. The old life is not debated. It is left behind.

Cadets are trained in combat readiness, weapons handling, physical endurance, organizational doctrine, operational awareness, and obedience under stress. They are isolated from their former lives so that focus can be redirected toward APEX and the future it exists to build.

Before rank is issued, every VANGUARD Cadet must face The Grinder.

The Grinder is the final evaluation of physical endurance, mental resilience, individual adaptability, and unit cohesion.

It is divided into two phases:

Isolation. The Cadet is tested alone. No squad. No support. No one to absorb their failure. This phase proves whether they can think, move, adapt, and endure under pressure.

Integration. The Cadet is tested as part of a unit. This phase proves whether they can communicate, coordinate, obey, support, and suppress ego in service of the mission.

A Cadet who fails is not wasted. They are reassessed, redirected, or reassigned to another division where their potential can serve more effectively.

A Cadet who passes is promoted.

They receive their first rank:

Trooper Third Class.

They receive their armor.

They receive their fireteam assignment.

They stand beside their brothers and sisters as operational VANGUARD personnel, no longer in preparation, no longer provisional, no longer waiting to be claimed.

A Cadet survives The Grinder.

A Trooper belongs to VANGUARD.

Part Six: In Closing

VANGUARD is not the whole of APEX.

VANGUARD is what arrives when words fail.

It is the first step into unstable territory. It is the final line against disorder.

The spear that enters. The shield that remains.

VANGUARD is APEX made visible.

Those outside APEX look at our recruits and frown.

They see the same haircut. The same uniform. The same posture. The same training yard. The same identification system.

They see a number and assume the person is gone.

They are wrong.

The old world condemns what it does not understand, but its own institutions have practiced transformation for centuries. When a young man or woman enters a national military, they are stripped down, tested, broken from civilian habit, and reshaped into a soldier in service of a flag.

The old world calls that discipline.

When APEX does it in service of humanity’s future, they call it dehumanization.

The hypocrisy is expected.

The media claims that once you join APEX and receive a number, you become disposable. A body. A helmet. Another uniform in a line.

But look at the truth.

Corporations treat human beings as disposable every day. They discard workers when profits fall, when shareholders panic, when stock prices shift, or when executives decide that loyalty costs too much. The people who build, maintain, carry, repair, serve, and sacrifice are replaced without hesitation.

To the old world, people are disposable when they stop being profitable.

APEX rejects that.

We do not look at a recruit and see waste. We do not look at a failure and see an ending. We do not look at a criminal, a veteran, a laborer, a student, an outcast, or a survivor and see a life beyond use.

We see potential.

Every person who enters an APEX facility has a history. They had a name before us. A life before us. Skills, instincts, fears, desires, wounds, talents, ambitions, and failures. They came to APEX for a reason.

We do not deny that reason.

We examine it.

We test it.

We refine it.

APEX wipes away the old world’s claim over a person so a new future can be built. Your past is not ignored. It is studied. Your skills are not erased. They are identified. Your instincts are not discarded. They are disciplined. Your personality is not destroyed. It is focused.

The number is not the end of identity.

The number is the beginning of earned identity.

When a recruit is processed, they stand equal beside every other recruit. Wealth does not elevate them. Poverty does not diminish them. Reputation does not protect them. Shame does not condemn them.

They begin again.

From there, each recruit proves what they can become.

Some are shaped by aggression and survival. CHAIN gives that force direction.

Some understand systems, records, and control. CONTROL gives that mind structure.

Some understand influence, money, and public power. PROFIT gives that ambition reach.

Some possess charisma, beauty, and social instinct. SIREN turns presence into a weapon.

Some move with precision through shadows and networks. RAPTOR gives that instinct purpose.

Some hunger for answers and advancement. GERM gives that curiosity a laboratory.

Some stand when others break. VANGUARD gives that courage armor.

Every division requires something different.

Every recruit offers something different.

That is why APEX does not create drones.

A drone has no judgment. A drone has no ambition. A drone has no instinct. A drone cannot adapt, lead, persuade, innovate, endure, or choose.

APEX has no use for emptiness.

We create operatives.

We create instruments.

We create men and women capable of serving something greater than the small lives the old world assigned to them.

So when you see a VANGUARD Trooper standing guard outside an APEX facility, do not mistake uniformity for absence.

That Trooper had a past.

That Trooper made a choice.

That Trooper has a reason.

And under the armor, behind the number, there is still a human being with a future.

APEX does not erase potential.

APEX gives it purpose.

The world is too fractured for one solution.

APEX Global Security is not one faceless army. It is not one corporation, one laboratory, one intelligence network, or one military force.

It is all of them.

APEX adapts to the challenges the world creates. Where one method fails, another is applied. Where force is required, force is used. Where influence is more effective, influence is deployed. Where money opens the door, money enters first. Where science must advance beyond accepted limits, science is given room to breathe.

APEX is divided into seven primary divisions.

Each has its own purpose. Each has its own methods. Each has its own culture.

But none exist in isolation.

They do not compete for supremacy. They do not fracture into rival tribes. They operate as parts of the same body, unified by one mission:

the advancement of humanity through order, discipline, and purpose.

CHAIN

Criminal enterprise has existed in every age of human civilization.

Lone predators. Street gangs. Smugglers. Cartels. Black market suppliers. Armed crews. Outlaw networks. Entire families and organizations built beneath the surface of polite society.

The old world pretends these networks can be erased.

APEX knows better.

When APEX must move through the underworld, it uses CHAIN.

CHAIN understands the places governments deny, corporations exploit, and civilized society refuses to acknowledge. They move weapons, secure routes, intimidate enemies, break criminal resistance, and absorb those who already know how to survive outside the law.

The media calls them outlaws. Pirates. Thugs. Gangsters in APEX colors.

The media does not understand their function.

CHAIN reaches the parts of humanity the old world abandoned.

VANGUARD

VANGUARD secures the ground.

They guard APEX bases, facilities, processing centers, convoys, and controlled zones. They stabilize hostile regions, enforce APEX authority, and stand as the most visible symbol of the organization’s strength.

Some leaders only respect force.

VANGUARD exists for them.

To outsiders, they are called brainwashed troopers. Fascist imitators. Disposable soldiers in black armor.

That is fiction.

VANGUARD personnel are trained operatives. Disciplined. Evaluated. Tested. Forged through pressure until hesitation is removed and purpose remains.

They are not drones.

They are the shield APEX raises when chaos advances.

They are the spear APEX drives into the heart of resistance.

CONTROL

Behind every deployment, every transfer, every assignment, every directive, and every processed recruit, there is CONTROL.

CONTROL makes APEX function.

They verify records, manage personnel, process intelligence, track assignments, route orders, maintain internal systems, and ensure the will of the Shadow Commander and the APEX Council is carried out without distortion.

Where others see paperwork, CONTROL sees power.

A misplaced file can destroy an operation. A delayed order can cost territory. A corrupted record can compromise an entire facility.

CONTROL prevents failure through structure.

They are not glamorous. They are not loud. They are not optional.

They are the nervous system of APEX.

PROFIT

Without resources, vision dies.

Without money, armies starve, laboratories go dark, facilities collapse, and influence disappears.

PROFIT ensures that does not happen.

PROFIT is APEX at the negotiating table. The boardroom. The press conference. The investment summit. The humanitarian reconstruction contract. The security partnership. The subsidiary whose name appears harmless until the paper trail is followed far enough.

They understand that money does not merely purchase equipment.

Money purchases access. Legitimacy. Protection. Silence. Time.

PROFIT keeps APEX funded, protected, and positioned inside the systems it intends to replace.

GERM

The future is not built by those afraid to touch it.

GERM is APEX’s research and development division. It is where cutting-edge technology, medical advancement, biological treatment, enhancement programs, weapons development, and experimental systems are created.

To outsiders, GERM is a warning sign.

They whisper about unethical trials. Forbidden research. Human testing. The belief that the ends justify the means.

APEX does not deny that progress requires discomfort.

Humanity cannot advance if every boundary is treated as sacred. Some limits exist to protect life. Others exist to protect weakness, fear, and outdated morality.

GERM exists to determine the difference.

RAPTOR

APEX has enemies.

Some wear uniforms. Some wear suits. Some hide behind firewalls, encrypted networks, foreign governments, private militias, activist cells, intelligence agencies, or corporate rivals.

RAPTOR is the answer.

They are infiltration, cyberwarfare, espionage, sabotage, assassination, surveillance, counterintelligence, and precision strike capability.

If RAPTOR marks a target, the target may never know.

Not until the file is gone. Not until the weapon fails. Not until the lights go out. Not until the door opens behind them.

Some RAPTOR operatives move through shadows.

Others never leave a screen.

Both are equally dangerous.

SIREN

Not every battle is won with force.

Some are won with attention.

SIREN operates in the world of image, desire, reputation, access, and influence. They move through social circles, media spaces, elite events, entertainment networks, fashion, celebrity culture, and digital platforms.

A politician may ignore a threat.

They may not ignore scandal.

An executive may resist pressure.

They may not resist desire.

A population may reject doctrine.

They may accept it when it comes from the right voice, the right face, the right trend, or the right story.

SIREN bends perception until the world begins to choose what APEX already decided it needed.

ONE BODY

Each division sees the world differently.

CHAIN sees the streets. VANGUARD sees the battlefield. CONTROL sees the system. PROFIT sees the leverage. GERM sees the future. RAPTOR sees the weakness. SIREN sees the desire.

Different methods. Different cultures. Different weapons.

One purpose.

No matter the division, no matter the assignment, no matter the uniform, every operative serves the same mission:

the betterment of humanity through APEX Global Security.

Each hand moves differently.

But all seven belong to APEX.

And through APEX, humanity will be saved.

APEX does not care who you were. APEX only cares what you can become.

APEX Global Security seeks candidates from every walk of life, every corner of the world, and every economic background.

Rich or poor. Privileged or forgotten. Praised or condemned. Feared or ignored.

It does not matter.

APEX recognizes one truth above all others:

You are human. Therefore, you have potential.

The children of powerful families are treated no differently than those who grew up with nothing. Wealth does not make you superior. Poverty does not make you worthless. Status, bloodline, nationality, reputation, and social class are old-world illusions.

Inside APEX, those illusions are stripped away.

When you enter the organization, your former identity is removed from consideration. You are processed. You are recorded. You are assigned a new identification.

A number.

There are those who claim this makes you a drone. A machine. A disposable body to be produced, deployed, and forgotten.

They do not understand.

A number is not the end of identity.

It is the beginning of purpose.

Your number is the first proof that the old world no longer owns you. It means you will be trained by the same standard as the person beside you. It means you will not be elevated because of wealth, protected because of status, or dismissed because of origin.

You will stand beside strangers who once lived lives nothing like yours.

And you will be equal.

Prejudice has no place in APEX.

Racism, bigotry, discrimination, inherited hatred, and the belief that one human being is naturally superior to another are diseases of the old world. They are weaknesses. They are fractures. They are tools used by dying systems to keep humanity divided.

APEX does not tolerate them.

Those who enter our facilities carrying such beliefs will be corrected. Quickly.

Your skin color does not matter. Your birthplace does not matter. Your sexuality does not matter. Your former income does not matter. Your old politics do not matter. Your old reputation does not matter.

Only discipline matters.

Only purpose matters.

Only the future matters.

The first true step into APEX is Cadet status.

As a Cadet, you are trained, tested, evaluated, and reshaped. You are taught that service is not a slogan. You are taught that loyalty is not a feeling. You are taught that equality requires discipline, and discipline requires surrender.

Every APEX operative, regardless of division, learns the basic tools of survival and enforcement. You may believe your path leads to a laboratory, an office, a server room, a boardroom, or a social circle. That may be true.

But every operative must be capable of defending the future.

Every operative must be capable of drawing a sidearm when the mission demands it.

Every operative must understand that those who oppose APEX are not merely opposing an organization.

They are opposing humanity’s next stage.

During Cadet training, you will be shown where your abilities belong. Some are suited for controlled environments. Some belong behind screens. Some belong in research bays. Some belong among the powerful and influential. Some belong on the road. Some belong in the shadows.

And some are destined for VANGUARD.

Upon final evaluation, you will receive your designation and assignment. Those suited for direct action will put on armor and serve as the visible force of APEX. Others will enter divisions where their talents can better serve the mission.

No human potential is wasted.

Every life can serve the future.

Do not fear what comes next.

Some arrive with honor. Some arrive with shame. Some arrive with blood on their hands. Some arrive with nothing left to lose.

APEX does not ask what the old world called you.

APEX only cares what you can become.

No human potential should be wasted. Every life can serve the future.

That is not a slogan.

That is our promise.

At APEX Global Security, we do not ask where you were born. We do not ask what name the old world gave you. We do not ask what mistakes, accusations, failures, or tragedies have been attached to your life.

We ask one question:

What can you become?

Every human being has potential. Some are fortunate enough to find that potential early. Others are misdirected, exploited, condemned, or abandoned by the systems that claimed to protect them.

APEX exists for those people.

For the lost. For the discarded. For the falsely judged. For the dangerous. For the disciplined. For the ones who know they were meant to become more.

Consider the case of David Marshall.

Before APEX, David was the kind of young man the old world claimed to value. He was raised in middle America, the son of a farming family that believed in work, faith, service, and country. He helped his father on the land. He helped his mother in the community. He was polite. Reliable. Patriotic.

The kind of citizen nations praise when they need soldiers.

So David became one.

He enlisted in the United States Marine Corps and was trained as a rifleman. He was sent overseas, told that his mission was necessary, told that intervention would bring peace, told that sacrifice was noble when ordered by men who would never bleed beside him.

Years passed.

The war continued.

And David began to ask the question soldiers are never supposed to ask:

Why are we still here?

During a village operation, David’s fireteam came under fire. The situation collapsed into chaos. When the shooting stopped, two members of his team were dead, David was wounded, and the official story began to change.

While recovering, David learned the incident was under investigation.

He told the truth.

The truth did not matter.

The dead civilians needed a culprit. The surviving team needed a scapegoat. The command structure needed the matter contained. By the time the reports were finished, David Marshall had been transformed from wounded Marine into unstable murderer.

Dishonorably discharged.

Disowned by the institution that shaped him.

Held at a distance by friends, neighbors, and even family who no longer knew whether to believe him.

The old world took a loyal son, used him, broke him, blamed him, and threw him away.

For years, David survived instead of lived. Dead-end work. Empty rooms. No purpose. No future. No way to remove the stain placed on his name.

Then David found APEX.

He came to us with nothing but his story, his anger, his discipline, and the remains of a life that had been stolen from him.

We did not ask him to prove his innocence.

We did not ask him to beg for forgiveness.

We did not ask him to become the man he used to be.

That man was gone.

Instead, we gave him something better.

A new name. A new uniform. A new purpose. A new future.

David Marshall entered an APEX facility as a disgraced veteran.

He emerged as Trooper 497.

Not a scapegoat. Not a failure. Not a discarded weapon of a dying nation.

An APEX Trooper.

Disciplined. Refocused. Reborn.

The old world told David his life was over.

APEX showed him that his life had only just begun.

And you can begin again too.

Your past does not define your future.

Join APEX today. Become the person you were always meant to be.

Humanity is dying.

You don’t think so? Look around.

Everywhere you turn, you see a society that has stopped moving forward. People stare into their screens, waiting for the next viral clip, celebrity scandal, or manufactured outrage to tell them what to care about. Instead of asking what kind of future humanity deserves, they argue over review scores, brand loyalty, and distractions designed to keep them docile.

Who is to blame?

Everyone.

Corporations grind their workers down and call it efficiency. To the elite, office workers, laborers, service staff, and everyday citizens are expendable numbers on a report. If profits fall short, the workers lose their jobs while executives disappear onto private retreats and congratulate themselves for “difficult decisions.”

Governments are no better. Politicians scream into microphones, declaring that the other side is the enemy. They do not listen to their people. They obey party leaders, donors, lobbyists, and the machinery that keeps them in power. Step out of line, and they are erased by their own side before their opponents ever get the chance.

And yes, you are part of the problem too.

You let corporations tell you what to buy, what to drive, what to wear, what to desire, and what kind of life counts as successful. You are handed a box and told to live inside it. Career. Consumption. Debt. Distraction. Repeat until death.

We are APEX Global Security.

We look at the disease eating civilization from the inside and propose something better. We propose an end to corruption, ineptitude, exploitation, division, and the endless finger-pointing that has paralyzed the world.

Those who fear us have many names for us.

“Anarchists.” “Terrorists.” “Fascists.” “Extremists.”

The labels do not matter. When you threaten a broken system, the system always finds a word to put around your neck.

We do not offer a miracle pill. We do not offer easy money. We do not offer comfort. We do not offer permission to remain weak.

Our way is the long way.

In the short term, there will be pain. There will be destruction. There will be war. The old world will not surrender quietly, and those who profit from its decay will not step aside willingly.

But when the smoke clears, humanity will be better.

Unified. Disciplined. Equal. Protected.

So ask yourself:

Are you ready to see what humanity could become?

Or are you content to remain another obedient drone in a society that never cared whether you lived or died?

If you are ready to change, watch this space.

APEX has a place for you.

OOC: This blog is the central hub for an original roleplay project centered on APEX Global Security, a fictional paramilitary organization in a near-future comic-book setting.

Future posts will include recruitment information, rank structure, character creation guidelines, lore, visual references, and ways to participate.

Bottom of the 2nd – Gold Shakes Off the Shadows

Julian Graves (#22) stood on first, his body still, but his eyes gleaming under the dim stadium lights. He was watching. Studying. Waiting.

At bat was Ezra “Vanishing Act” Quinn (#10), the Phantom Aces’ second baseman. The kind of player you lost track of between blinks.

Xavier (#39) adjusted his cap, his mind as sharp as the chilling wind that swept through Specter Stadium. He knew how the Aces worked—creeping into your head, forcing hesitation. But he had Brandon (#58) behind the plate. His rock.

Brandon called for a breaking ball, fingers subtle behind his mitt. Xavier nodded.

First pitch—SLICE!

The ball snapped downward, breaking hard. Ezra jerked his bat up—too late.

STRIKE ONE.

Brandon grinned. “What’s wrong, bruv? Thought you were vanishin’?” Ezra said nothing. Just blinked. Still as a statue.

Second pitch—FASTBALL. Ezra swung—miss. STRIKE TWO.

Still no reaction.

Brandon narrowed his eyes. Something was off.

Xavier wound up for the third pitch—a high-speed slider. Ezra lifted his bat… Didn’t swing.

THUD. The ball smacked into Brandon’s mitt. STRIKE THREE. OUT.

Ezra exhaled. His head turned slightly toward the dugout—toward Maddox Kane. The Phantom Captain barely nodded. As if this was expected.“Two outs,” Brandon muttered, standing up. “One more.”

But the next batter made the air feel heavier. Nate Voss (#9). The Doppelgänger.

Xavier exhaled, wiping sweat from his brow. Nate was a ghost in the outfield, but at bat? He was something else. He didn’t crush home runs—he forced mistakes. His speed was unnatural.

First pitch—ball.

Second pitch—a foul tip. Nate’s stance never changed.

Third pitch—weak contact!

The ball shot toward left field—too shallow for a clean hit.

Tamerlan (#73) exploded off his feet, scooping it up in one smooth motion.

Julian sprinted for second.

Alex (#64) braced himself at the bag, eyes locked on Tamerlan’s throw.

The ball hit his glove. Julian dove— TAGGED. OUT.

The Golden Army roared as the inning ended.

Score: 3-2, Phantom Aces leading.

Top of the 3rd – The Mind Games Begin

Mack (#70) stepped up to the plate, rolling his shoulders. Time to set the fookin’ tone.

Across from him stood Isaiah Crowe (#21).

A slow grin spread across Crowe’s face. His presence was unnatural—like he already knew how this at-bat would end.

“Oi, ya creepy fuck,” Mack growled. “Gonna pitch or just stare all night?”

Isaiah lifted the ball. He didn’t answer.

First pitch—slider.

Mack swung hard—CLANG! Foul ball.

Isaiah chuckled, shaking his head. “You swing like you don’t trust your own hands.”

Mack’s jaw clenched.

Second pitch—fastball.

Mack braced—but his instincts screamed late.

He swung—empty air. STRIKE TWO.

Isaiah’s smirk widened. “That hesitation, Mack. You feel it, don’t you?”

Mack forced himself to stay cool. Focus. Feel. Don’t think. 

The next pitch never came.

Isaiah just stood there, spinning the ball between his fingers, letting the tension stretch.

Then he spoke.

“Herc’s gone, isn’t he?”

The Gold dugout went dead silent. Mack’s grip on the bat tightened so hard his knuckles turned white.

Isaiah’s voice was smooth, venomous. “He left you. Ran away before the big game. And you lot? You ain’t got a chance without him.”

A snarl twisted at Mack’s lips. Isaiah was lying. But why did it feel like he knew more?

Brandon barked from the dugout. “Mack! Don’t listen, bruv!”

Mack exhaled. No hesitation. No thoughts. Just instincts. He could hear Frey’s voice centering him. He had trained for this.

Next pitch—OUTSIDE. Ball one.

Isaiah narrowed his eyes. His bait didn’t work.

Next pitch—OUTSIDE. Ball two.

Mack stepped forward. Crowe was trying to trick him.

Third pitch—low curveball. Mack sensed it, and called it right. Ball three.

Isaiah’s smirk twitched.

Final pitch—outside again.

BALL FOUR. Mack walked to first base.

He grinned, leaning toward Crowe as he passed.

“Oi, fuckface. Herc ain’t gone. He’s just waitin’ to crush ya later.”

Crowe’s eyes darkened.

Daniel (#16) stepped in. Crowe changed tactics—fast, aggressive pitches.

Daniel took the first pitch—ball one.

The second pitch? A brutal curveball.

STRIKE ONE.

Daniel gritted his teeth.

Then came the fastball.

Daniel swung—too late. STRIKE TWO.

Crowe’s voice slithered through the night.

“You sure you wanna stand here, pup? Your buddy Herc knew better.”

Daniel’s pupils narrowed. A low growl built in his throat.

Next pitch—near his face.

Daniel flinched—barely dodging it.

Ball two.

Crowe just laughed.

Final pitch—fast.

Daniel swung—STRIKE THREE.

Crowe turned away before the umpire even called it.

Daniel stomped back to the dugout, fists clenched. “That fucker…”

Brandon gripped his shoulder. “Focus, bruv. Don’t give ‘im the satisfaction.”

Daniel exhaled. Still fumin’, but still in the game.

Isaac (#45) stepped up. He knew Crowe was about to copy Xavier’s pitches.

First pitch—fastball, just like Xavier’s.

Isaac watched it. Ball one.

Second pitch—curve, exactly like Xavier’s.

Strike.

Isaac stayed calm. He KNEW Xavier’s throwing habits. He could use it.

Third pitch—strike two.

Brandon shouted, “You got this, bruv!”

Isaac breathed in. Adjusted his stance.

Final pitch—fastball, inside.

Isaac swung. CRACK.

Clean hit. He sprinted to first. Mack took second.

The dugout roared. Momentum was shifting.

The Breaking Point – End of the 3rd Top Inning

Brandon (#58) stepped in, unshaken. First pitch—foul.

Second pitch—CRACK!

The ball shot past Silas. Julian fielded it, firing to Maddox.

Mack ran for third.

Maddox turned—and threw.

OUT.

Mack barely stopped himself from slamming his helmet. The Aces’ defense was airtight.

Brandon stood on first. Isaac on second.

Two outs.

Then came Tariq.

First pitch—ball.

Second pitch—strike.

Third pitch—the trap.

Isaiah’s grin widened as he released the ball.

Tariq swung hard—too soon.

CRACK.

The sound echoed through Specter Stadium, sharp as a gunshot.

Tariq’s bat clattered to the dirt, his forearm twisting at an unnatural angle. His face contorted in pain as he dropped to one knee, clutching his arm.

The Gold dugout erupted.

Daniel was over the fence before anyone could stop him, eyes locked on Isaiah Crowe’s smirking face.

Trevor was right behind him, muscles bulging, veins pulsing.

And then?

They weren’t just Daniel and Trevor anymore.

Their bodies convulsed, twisted. Claws extended from their fingertips. Fangs bared. Their pupils shrunk to slits, glowing with a primal, golden rage.

A split second before they lunged, the umpire’s whistle screeched through the air.

“EJECTED! EJECTED!”

Security swarmed the field.

Trevor’s chest heaved, his claws still digging into the dirt. Daniel’s breathing was ragged, his muscles still coiled, ready to rip Crowe apart.

From behind the plate, Vincent Moreau just watched. Unblinking. Expressionless.

Isaiah took a slow step back, lifting his hands in mock innocence. “Aw, was that too much for you lot?”

Mack grabbed Daniel and shoved him back. “Oi! We need ya out here, not locked up, ya dumb mutt!”

Brandon held Trevor back, voice low and sharp. “They want this. They want us rattled. Don’t. Fucking. Give it to them.”

Slowly, the tension cracked.

Daniel and Trevor snarled but backed off, retreating toward the dugout.

The damage was done.

Tariq was helped off the field. His forearm was swelling fast. He was out.

Brody grabbed his helmet. No hesitation. No second thoughts. He was stepping in.

Coach Chet signaled the other subs. Brock replaced Trevor at third base. Briar stepped in for Daniel, moving to right field while Dylan shifted to center.

Gold’s lineup was shaken, but not broken.

Brody took his place at bat.

Count: 1 ball, 2 strikes.

Crowe threw.

Brody read the ball instantly. Instead of swinging—he BUNTED.

Isaac took off from third, sprinting like his life depended on it.

The Phantom Aces reacted late.

Silas charged forward, scooping the ball—but Isaac was already sliding home.

SAFE!

The dugout erupted. A small victory, but a victory.

Silas fired the ball to first—Brody was out.

End of the inning.

Score: 3-3.

The Gold Army had clawed one back.

But the Phantom Aces?

They were just getting started.

Bottom of the 3rd Inning – Phantom Aces Press the Attack

Maddox Kane stood just outside the batter’s box, watching. Studying. A smirk barely tugged at his lips as he observed Gold’s substitutions settling into place. New faces, fresh weaknesses to exploit.

But first, Isaiah.

Crowe strode to the plate, rolling his shoulders, exuding pure calculated confidence. He wasn’t just here to hit—he was here to get inside Xavier’s head.

Brandon squatted behind the plate, fingers flashing the signs. "Stay sharp, block him out." Xavier gave a sharp nod, but Crowe’s eyes never left him.

First pitch—fastball.

Strike one. Isaiah didn’t flinch.

Second pitch—slider.

Strike two. Again, no reaction. Just that slow, knowing smirk.

Xavier inhaled, shoulders squared, ready for the third.

Crowe finally spoke, voice low, smooth. "You’re missing something."

Xavier’s grip tightened.

"You feel it, don’t you?" Crowe tapped his helmet lightly. "That gap. The absence. The missing piece."

Isaiah let the words settle before driving the next pitch down the third-base line. A perfect grounder—fast, controlled, precise.

Mack sprinted, snatched it clean, fired to second—

Too late.

Crowe’s cleats slammed onto first base before the ball even reached Brody. Smooth, too smooth. He stood up, dusting himself off, flashing Xavier another smirk.

Xavier clenched his jaw. Don’t let him in. Don’t let him win.

Isaiah stepped forward.

Just an inch.

Then another.

Xavier set his stance, eyes locked on the mound. Ignore him.

Another step.

Brody caught it first. "XAVIER—"

Xavier whipped around, launching to first—

Isaiah barely slid back in. Safe.

The smirk never left his face.

Then Maddox Kane stepped up.

Brandon squared his shoulders behind the plate. Maddox wasn't just any batter. He was the architect of this whole game. The moment he locked eyes with you, it felt like you were following his plan—not the other way around.

Brandon narrowed his eyes. Not today.

First pitch—a ball. Too high. Maddox didn’t move.

Second pitch—foul. Straight back. Xavier steadied.

Third pitch—the trap snapped shut.

Maddox unleashed hell.

CRACK.

The ball vanished into the night.

Isaiah glided home. Maddox followed.

HOME RUN. 5-3 Phantom Aces.

The Gold dugout went dead silent.

Brandon’s fingers dug into his mitt as he exhaled sharply. Behind the plate, Vincent Moreau watched him. Waiting.

They had faced off before. Vincent’s defense was impeccable. But Brandon? Brandon refused to be the lesser catcher.

Moreau stepped up to bat. First pitch—strike. Second pitch—ball.

Brandon caught Moreau’s gaze, tossing the ball back to Xavier. "You don’t talk much, huh?"

Vincent remained unreadable. Unshaken. Then he smirked.

Brandon’s breath hitched—because it wasn’t Vincent's smirk.

It was Isaiah’s.

Xavier threw the next pitch—clean contact. A sharp drive past Alex, sending Vincent to second base.

Gold refused to break.

Silas Reed stepped in. Silent as death.

Brandon exhaled sharply. Mack met his gaze. Time to end this.

Ground ball—Brock reacted fast, snagged it, fired to Mack.

OUT.

Mack spun—fired to Brody.

OUT.

Double play. Inning over.

The Phantom Aces led 5-3.

But Gold? Gold wasn’t done.

Top of the 4th – Gold Shut Down (Score: 5-3 Phantom Aces leading.)

Brock (#46) stepped up, gripping his bat tighter than usual. The stadium felt smaller. The Phantom Aces' defense felt bigger.

Across the mound, Isaiah Crowe (#21) spun the ball in his fingers, eyes half-lidded, like he was bored. Like he’d already decided how this would end.

Brock fought. Fouled one off. But the next two pitches vanished at the plate.

Strikeout.

Alex (#64) followed.

Unlike the others, he didn’t let the weight press on him. He analyzed. Tracked Crowe’s throws. Refused the mind games.

The count went full. Crowe adjusted mid-windup. The pitch veered just outside—Alex swung anyway.

The bat connected. A hard grounder up the middle—but Maddox was already moving.

Glove down. Fluid scoop. Bullet to first.

Out.

Tamerlan (#73) stepped up.

And Ace was still watching.

The hawk’s silver eyes locked onto him. The pain in his legs sharpened.

First pitch—strike. He shook it off.

Second pitch—ball.

Breathe.

Third pitch—contact. A sharp hit toward left—but Caleb was already there.

Out.

Gold got nothing.

Bottom of the 4th – Gold Holds the Line

Maddox Kane (#00) led off. He didn’t swing at the first two pitches. Forced Xavier to throw into his zone.

Then—CRACK. A clean single to left.

Gold tightened their defense.

Caleb Hayes (#7) grounded into a fielder’s choice—Alex pivoted, fired to first. Out. But Maddox advanced to second.

Julian Graves (#22) followed. Fly ball to Dylan—caught, but Maddox tagged up.

Maddox now on third.

The dugout tensed. The Phantom Aces could smell a run.

Ezra Quinn (#10) came up. Tried to slip a soft roller past Mack.

Mack wasn’t having it.

He charged, barehanded the ball, fired to first. Out.

Gold held.

But something felt off.

Morale Cracks – The Psychological Assault Intensifies (Between the 4th and 5th inning.)

The cold deepened.

Not just the night air—but something inside the dugout.

Isaac rubbed his arms. His bat felt heavier than before.

Briar clutched his glove too tight. His heart pounded.

Tamerlan blinked hard, trying to push through the pain. But it wasn’t his old injury. It was something else.

Something watching.

Brody saw it all. His jaw clenched.

Then, it happened.

Ace the Phantom Hawk swooped down over the field—too low.

The shadow passed over Dylan.

His chest tightened. His speed—his greatest weapon—felt slower.

Brock gripped his knees at third, blinking hard. For a split second, he saw two Isaiahs on first base.

Briar suddenly felt miles away. The stadium stretched, the bases farther apart. His breathing quickened.

At the dugout entrance, Grayden, the Golden Knight, raised his sword high.

“STAY STRONG, GOLD! PUSH FORWARD!”

But his words fell flat, dimmed by the eerie atmosphere. A chill ran down his spine.

Top of the 5th – The Noose Tightens (Score: 5-3 Phantom Aces leading.)

Dylan (#20) was fast. Everyone knew it. But tonight, speed felt… different.

He adjusted his stance at the plate, rolling his shoulders. He could still feel the way Ace’s shadow had passed over him last inning. The way his chest had tightened like something was pulling him down.

Crowe’s first pitch came fast—Dylan reacted a heartbeat late. The bat barely nicked the ball. Foul.

Second pitch—sinker. Dylan tried to adjust, but it dropped too fast. Strike two.

He inhaled. Don’t hesitate. Just react.

Third pitch—he swung clean. The ball soared toward left field—

And Caleb was just… there.

Not running. Not adjusting. Just standing under the ball, glove open, like he’d known exactly where it would land.

Out.

Mack (#70) stepped in, jaw tight, pulse steady.

He refused to let the atmosphere get to him.

First pitch—slider. Mack followed instinct—crack! Clean hit.

For half a second, he felt relief.

Then, a blur of black.

Maddox Kane was already there. Snatched the ball like he had been waiting for it.

Another out.

Briar (#50) dug his cleats in, refusing to let the momentum spiral.

First pitch—contact. A sharp grounder past first base—he bolted. SAFE.

Finally, something.

But the moment he looked toward second, he felt it.

Ace’s silver eyes gleamed from above. The bases suddenly felt miles apart.

Briar’s breath hitched.

Isaac (#45) was next. He felt the weight of the stadium. The pressure of Crowe.

Brandon’s voice rang from the dugout. “Keep your head, bruv.”

Isaac exhaled.

First pitch—CRACK.

A deep shot toward right field. The dugout erupted—

Julian Graves was already moving.

He didn’t run. He glided.

Like he’d seen it before it happened.

The ball landed perfectly in his glove.

Out.

Gold dugout fell silent.

Briar clenched his fists on first base. He was stranded.

Gold felt it.

Phantom Aces weren’t just playing baseball anymore.

They were controlling the field.

The shift in energy was undeniable.

Ace the Phantom Hawk soared low again, its shadow dragging across the field like a stain.

The moment it passed over the dugout, Briar exhaled sharply, feeling colder.

Isaac rubbed his arms, gripping his bat tighter.

Tamerlan stood in left field, blinking hard. His legs ached. But not from exhaustion. From something else.

A curse.

From the dugout, Brody (#11) saw everything.

The hesitation in Isaac’s grip. The way Briar’s shoulders tensed. The subtle slump in Dylan’s stance.

It was working.

The Phantom Aces were getting inside their heads.

Brody ground his teeth. His hands curled into fists. He had to keep them grounded.

Grayden, the Golden Knight, raised his sword from the dugout.

His voice boomed across the field.

“GOLD ARMY! HOLD THE LINE!”

But the fog curled deeper onto the field, muffling the sound. His golden glow dimmed.

Like something was swallowing them.

Alex (#64) narrowed his eyes, watching Ace circling above.

His gut twisted. That thing isn’t just a mascot.

That shadow was alive.

And it was draining them.

His instincts screamed. Chase it. Hunt it. Stop it.

But not yet.

For now, he had to stay grounded.

The team still needed him on the field.

Bottom of the 5th – The Nightmare Begins (Score: 5-3 Phantom Aces leading.)

Nate Voss (#9) led off.

First pitch—slow infield grounder.

Mack charged, scooped barehanded—fired to first.

But Nate was already there.

Safe.

Mack’s eyes narrowed. That speed wasn’t natural.

Isaiah Crowe (#21) stepped in.

First pitch—fly ball. Dylan tracked it, pushed off hard—caught it.

Out.

But Nate didn’t move from first. He just… stood there, eyes locked onto Xavier.

Maddox Kane (#00) stepped up.

He didn’t swing at the first two pitches. Just watched.

The third—CRACK.

A line drive into center.

Maddox jogged to first. Nate moved to second.

The pressure was suffocating.

Vincent Moreau (#13) took his stance.

Brandon locked eyes with him.

This was his rival.

His fingers twitched in his mitt. He needed to control the game.

Xavier fired. Vincent adjusted.

The ball rocketed past left field.

Briar sprinted—but it was too deep.

Double.

Maddox to third. Nate scored.

6-3 Phantom Aces.

Jesse Briggs (#19) subbed in for Silas.

First pitch—grounder to Brock.

Brock pivoted, fired home—

Maddox slid.

SAFE.

7-3 Phantom Aces.

Brandon slammed his mitt down. They were slipping.

Maddox Kane at-bat again.

Alex braced.

The ball was hit low. A soft roller toward second.

The moment Alex moved, the ball flickered.

For half a second, it vanished.

A trick. A curse.

Alex didn’t flinch.

He grabbed it clean.

Fired to first. OUT.

Vincent advanced to third.

Maddox leave the field, watching Alex.

Alex met his gaze.

For a split second, Maddox’s smirk faltered.

Caleb Hayes (#7) stepped in.

Fly ball—Dylan charged.

A diving catch and a quick pass to Brandon

Vincent 's way home is blocked, but he manage to get back to third before being tagged out. Caleb dived on first.

Julian Graves (#22) at-bat. Two outs, runners on first and third. Brandon look to Xavier. They must stop this before any more point is scored. Brandon signal for a low splitter, perfectly executed by Xavier despite the fatigue starting to seep in.

Ground ball—Mack grabbed it clean.

Fired to first at Brody.

OUT.

Inning over.

Alex’s Decision – The Chase Begins

Alex jogged back to the dugout, heart pounding.

He could still feel Ace’s presence.

The way it sank into the field.

The way it poisoned morale.

He looked at Grayden. The Golden Knight’s glow was flickering.

That wasn’t right.

This was more than just a game.

He knew what had to be done.

He grabbed Roman’s (#68) jersey from the bench.

“Coach,” Alex said, voice steady. “Sub me out.”

Chet turned. “What?”

Alex looked toward the phantom hawk circling above.

“I need to chase a ghost.”

Score: 7-3 Phantom Aces leading.

The Gold Army had taken a hit.

But the real fight was only beginning.

A battle for dominance begins. The Gold Army surges forward, ready to seize control. But Specter Stadium is no ordinary battleground, and the Phantom Aces have been waiting. The first exchange will set the tone—who lands the opening blow?

1st Inning –The First Strikes

Top of the 1st Inning – Gold’s Opening Salvo

Mack (@polo-drone-070) cracked his knuckles, rolling his shoulders as he stepped into the batter’s box.

Across from him, Isaiah Crowe stood motionless on the mound, his black uniform blending into the shadows. His windup was slow, smooth—almost too smooth. But Mack wasn’t here to hesitate.

First pitch—fastball, high.

Mack swung. CRACK.

The ball shot deep into center field.

Mack took off.

The field lurched around him. Shadows stretched unnaturally under the flickering stadium lights.

He ignored it. Instinct. Speed. Power.

By the time Nate Voss fired the ball back in, Mack was already standing safe on second base, grinning.

Gold’s dugout erupted.

First hit. First pressure on the Phantom Aces.

Daniel (@danielgold-16) stepped in, eyes gleaming. He twirled his bat once, then set himself.

Crowe wound up—fastball.

Daniel bunted.

Perfect placement. The ball rolled just past Crowe.

Silas Reed moved.

One moment, he was standing still. The next, he was already reaching.

Mack reacted instantly, charging for third.

Silas flicked the ball to first—but Daniel was already past.

Safe.

Mack glanced at third. Kane was watching him. Expression unreadable.

Two on, no outs. Gold was fired up.

Isaac (@isaac-gold-45) stepped in, adjusting his gloves. He needed to keep the momentum.

First pitch—ball. He read it clean. Good start.

Second pitch—strike. He hesitated, misreading the spin.

Third pitch—strike. He swung late, Crowe’s delivery faster than expected.

Fourth pitch—curveball, outside. Isaac went for it. Too far.

Strike three.

Isaac clenched his fists as he walked away. Damn it.

One out.

Brandon (@brandongold58) stepped up.

The moment was his. He could feel it.

Crowe wasn’t fazed.

First pitch—contact.

The ball shot toward center.

Nate moved fast.

Too fast.

The crowd gasped as he made it under the ball—but he had to dive.

Mack was already gone.

He hit third, rounded hard—

Daniel followed.

Nate fired the ball back in.

Brandon sprinted, barely making it to first.

Mack slid into third.

Daniel into second.

No outs.

Gold’s dugout exploded.

Gold was here.

Tariq (@tariqgold89) strode up to the plate, rolling his shoulders. First base was his fortress. But now? Now, Gold needed his bat.

First pitch—strike.

Second pitch—strike.

Something about Crowe’s smirk dug under his skin.

Third pitch—he swung—

Miss.

Out.

Trevor (@polo-drone-125) gritted his teeth, stepping up. Last chance.

Crowe didn’t blink. Didn’t shift. Just threw.

Trevor crushed it.

The ball screamed past second base, too fast for even Maddox Kane to track.

Mack was already home.

Daniel followed. Home.

Trevor charged toward second—

Phantom moved like a machine.

One moment, he was safe. The next? Out.

2-0.

Gold’s dugout erupted. Cheers, roars, energy exploded.

But across the field?

The Phantom Aces didn’t react.

Not shaken. Not impressed. Not even annoyed.

Like they expected it.

Like this was just… part of the plan.

Bottom of the 1st Inning – The Phantom Strike Back

Nate Voss stepped into the box.

The silence was unnatural.

He wasn’t tense. Wasn’t twitching, wasn’t restless like most leadoff batters.

He just stood there.

Xavier (@polo-drone-039) narrowed his eyes. No tells. No adjustments. Like Voss wasn’t waiting for a pitch—

Like he already knew what was coming.

Xavier exhaled. Fine.

The ball flew.

Voss swung. A weak grounder.

Mack reacted instantly.

Scoop. Pivot. Firing to first.

Tariq set his glove. The ball hit clean.

Out.

Or—

No.

Nate was already standing on first.

The dugout tensed.

Mack blinked.

That was impossible.

Xavier squared up. Next batter.

Isaiah Crowe.

His smirk was still there.

First pitch. Fast. Crowe didn’t even move.

Second pitch. Curve. Crowe just watched.

Third pitch—strike.

Out.

Crowe just nodded. Like he wasn’t even trying to hit. Like he just wanted to see.

Nate led off base. Too far. Xavier saw it.

He pivoted—but Nate was already gone.

Brandon’s throw was laser-sharp.

Alex (@polo-drone-151) was there. Glove down. Tag ready.

And yet—

Nate’s foot hit second first.

Xavier tightened his grip.

Maddox Kane stepped up.

The air changed.

Tension snapped across the field, invisible threads tightening around Gold’s players.

Xavier inhaled. He wasn’t going to let this bastard read him.

The pitch flew.

Maddox didn’t react.

Second pitch. He didn’t move.

Third pitch—inside. Kane swung. Foul.

The count was full.

Xavier exhaled slow. He wasn’t breaking.

He launched. Perfect pitch.

CRACK.

The ball vanished.

High. Gone.

Home run.

2-2.

Gold’s dugout fell silent.

Maddox didn’t celebrate. He just adjusted his gloves and walked home.

Vincent Moreau stepped up. Gold needed a stop.

Xavier threw. Contact.

Vincent made it to second.

Silas Reed was next. Maddox again after.

Gold needed to kill this momentum.

The pitch—Silas swung, he had misread Xavier’s pitch, but somehow managed to make contact.

Grounder.

Straight to Mack.

He didn’t hesitate.

Glove. Hand. Throw.

Brandon caught it, turned, fired to first.

Double play.

Specter Stadium fell silent.

Brandon locked eyes with Xavier. A silent nod.

They weren’t going down without a fight.

Score tied at 2-2.

2nd Inning : The Shift in Momentum

Top of the 2nd Inning – Gold’s Momentum Meets a Wall

Alex adjusted his gloves, stepping into the batter’s box.

The stadium felt different.

Like the ground beneath his cleats wasn’t entirely solid.

Isaiah Crowe stood on the mound, his black uniform unnaturally still against the dim stadium lights.

Alex took a breath. He wasn’t rattled. Drones don’t let emotions cloud judgment.

First pitch—strike.

No movement. No wasted motion. Just… efficiency.

Alex analyzed.

Second pitch—ball.

A sliver of predictability.

Third pitch—he swung.

Contact.

A sharp grounder toward short—but Kane was already there.

The ball barely hit the dirt before it vanished into his glove.

Throw to first.

Out.

Alex jogged back, expression unreadable. His play had been correct.

The result? Still wrong.

Alex clenched his jaw. That wasn’t normal.

Tamerlan (@eddy-gold-73) took a deep breath, stepping up. His leg ached, but he shook it off. This wasn’t the time to think about that.

First pitch—strike.

Second pitch—strike.

Crowe was faster than before. His throws had a new rhythm, and it was messing with Tamerlan’s timing.

He adjusted, tightened his grip. Focus.

Third pitch—foul.

Crowe smirked again.

Fourth pitch—Tamerlan swung hard.

The ball shot toward left-center.

For a second, he thought he had it—

And then, Nate Voss materialized under it.

Like he’d always been there.

Out.

Tamerlan swore under his breath, jogging back. This was getting weird.

Dylan (@dylangold20) wasn’t rattled.

Crowe wasn’t some ghost. He was just a pitcher.

And Dylan could run through anything.

First pitch—strike.

Fast. Too fast.

Dylan gritted his teeth. Alright, Crowe. You wanna play fast? Let’s go.

Next pitch—Dylan swung.

Contact.

A clean hit up the middle—

Maddox Kane was already there.

Glove down. Spin. Throw.

Out.

Gold’s dugout went silent.

Three outs.

No runs.

And that was when they realized—

The Phantom Aces weren’t just playing defense.

They were toying with them.

Bottom of the 2nd Inning – The Unease Creeps In

Maddox Kane strode up to the plate.

No rush. No wasted movement.

Like he already knew exactly what would happen.

Xavier kept his face unreadable, filled with resolution. Not this time.

First pitch—ball.

Just outside.

Second pitch—Maddox smirked.

Swing.

CRACK.

The ball launched deep to right field.

Dylan sprinted—tracking.

He leaped—glove outstretched.

Got it.

Out.

For a split second, Maddox just stood there, staring.

Then, he gave a slow nod. Like that was expected.

Xavier exhaled. One down.

Caleb Hayes was next.

First pitch—strike.

Second pitch—foul.

Third pitch—Caleb swung hard.

The ball shot down the third-base line.

Trevor dived—too far.

The ball slipped past.

Tamerlan fired it back in, but Caleb was already on second.

Safe.

Nate Voss stepped in.

Brandon gave the signal. No stolen bases this time.

First pitch—strike.

Nate didn’t move.

Second pitch—ball.

Third pitch—he swung.

Contact.

A perfectly placed blooper into center.

Caleb sprinted for home.

Daniel charged in. Fired to Brandon.

The ball was on time.

The tag was there.

But Caleb was already standing on home plate.

Brandon stared.

When did he get there?

3-2. Phantom Aces lead.

And for the first time…

Gold wasn’t sure what they were up against.

⚖️ End of Part 1 – An explosive beginning

🔥 Gold STRUCK FIRST. ⚫ The Phantom Aces TOOK CONTROL. ⚔ The shadows are deepening.

The moon loomed heavy over the stadium, casting long silver streaks across the field. The Golden Knights stood in perfect formation, their golden uniforms gleaming beneath the cold glow of the floodlights. They did not fidget. They did not breathe. They were certainty, obedience, and perfection incarnate.

Across from them, the Phantom Aces gathered, their figures shifting like mist, faces half-seen and bodies half-there. They had no gleam, no solidity—only a whisper of what once was. Yet, tonight, these shades of the unknown would stand against the might of gold.

Before the first pitch, before the first play, Janus stepped forward. The god of past and future, twin-faced and eternal, raised his hands, commanding the field into silence. His voice echoed through the stands, neither warm nor cold, but absolute.

"Gold has conquered time, yet time has not surrendered. This night is not a contest of skill, nor a test of power, but a reckoning. Fate bends for neither man nor machine, but fate is not your opponent—it is your shadow, waiting to see if you cast it still."

The Gold Army remained still. They did not waver, for doubt was not in their design. Yet Janus turned, his second face speaking as the first watched ahead.

"You are flawless, yet flawlessness does not mean victory. You are order, yet order is not eternity. The past watches, and the future… waits. Will gold shine brighter after this night, or will the shadows of darkness reclaim its place? If you stand unyielding, you may win—but if you stand unchanging, you may lose everything."

The prophecy hovered over the field like a storm cloud. The Golden Knights processed its meaning, but the logic was unclear. They would not change. They could not change. And yet Janus’ words carried the weight of inevitability.

Then, with a knowing smile, the god gestured toward the scoreboard, where the numbers still read 0-0.

"Begin."