Here we are, on a stunning late evening. More than a decade has passed since the end of World War III. Someone once claimed that "sticks and stones" would be used in World War IV—but is that really the case?
Looking out my window, I see pods gliding by, autonomous vehicles humming silently, grand extensions of architecture, and Titan V—a colossal construct designed to harvest dark energy from the far reaches of space. It hardly feels primitive.
What most people don't realize is that dark matter and dark energy account for nearly two-thirds and 69% of the universe, respectively. And now, humanity has learned to tap into that vast, invisible reservoir. The energy isn't scarce anymore. It's everywhere—and we've finally begun to harness it.
I was about to pen the final line of my book—finally answering the long-asked question: Did we, as humans, attain a perfect world?
Then came the knock. A firm rapping against the metal door, sharp enough to break the silence I had so carefully cultivated.
"It's Emma," said the familiar synthetic voice, echoing from the ceiling—my assistant humanoid's neutral tone oddly out of place.
"Authorize."
The door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing an auto-door of the latest grade. Emma stood beyond it, breathless, her posture rigid with urgency.
"I can't hold it in any longer," she blurted, words tumbling out between uneven gasps. "It's him. He's back. I swear it's him."
"Who?" I asked flatly, my gaze flickering back to the blinking cursor on the screen. "I'll deal with this once I've finished the last chapter of my novel." I waved her off absently.
She snapped. "I am SICK of all these demands!" Her voice rose, cracking into a crescendo. "It's the Hollow!"
That name froze the blood in my veins. My eyes widened involuntarily, composure faltering. For a split second, everything fell away—even the crushing reality that Emma still hadn't found work in her field.
"The Hollow?" I repeated. "This changes everything."
I reached for my Neuro-Chip, fingers trembling with the weight of what was to come. Breakfast would have to wait.
"We're activating national security," I said, my voice clipped, firm.
Without another word, we turned and made our way to the conference room—where secrets unfolded and empires defended their future. After all, we weren't just author and assistant. We were intelligence operatives of the Great Russian Empire.
And the final chapter... would now write itself.
"The Hollow has made a mistake this time," Emma announced, her voice resolute as it echoed through the conference room. "According to FATE M, there's a major inconsistency in his routing data in our national Defense Log. To think… that terrorist finally slipped. We have no choice but to deploy our finest autos and agents—whatever it takes to catch him."
At the center of the table sat a towering figure, unmoving—save for the slow nod he offered. Even that subtle motion made every agent stiffen. He was the leader.
Ten fingers crossed, his hands rested calmly as he spoke in a surprisingly gentle voice, "Where does the inconsistency lead?"
A faint smile tugged at his lips. "What is FATE M's prediction?"
An agent wearing circular glasses hesitantly raised a hand. "Slavoj… maybe we shouldn't rely on that machine so blindly. With all due respect, your intuition is far more dependable in matters like this."
Slavoj didn't even blink. "State it, Ivan. I will hear no suggestions—not for this case."
Ivan lowered his hand, swallowing. "Roger. FATE M predicts that the Hollow's intent… may culminate in a heist."
Slavoj leaned forward. "Where?"
"Up there," Ivan answered gravely. "Titan V."
A flicker of interest crossed Slavoj Moldova's usually impenetrable face. A wry smirk formed.
"Markov will take the lead," he announced. "Any objections?"
Another agent scoffed. "Markov's helped solve countless cases, yes—but his criminality constant is still significantly higher than ours. Are we really putting our trust in him?"
Slavoj's gaze fixed on Markov, cold and calculating. "Would you agree to a memory reboot? Your identity and only the information essential to this mission will remain. Everything else—wiped. We'll restore it after the operation."
Markov merely shrugged, emotionless. "Understood."
After everyone had filed out, only two figures remained in the dimly lit meeting room: the ever-stoic Slavoj Moldova, still seated at the head of the table, and Agent Ivan, gathering his scattered research papers with deliberate care.
Slavoj leaned back, fingers interlocked over his chest, eyes closed as if lost in some vast, private calculus.
Ivan, unhurried, glanced at him. "Why him?"
Slavoj didn't move.
"You question my judgment?" came the calm voice, eyes still shut.
"I could never, Leader," Ivan replied, keeping his tone respectful. "But... it's reckless. Letting the kid take point on this mission—it doesn't feel right."
Slavoj slowly opened his eyes, gaze drifting upward, as if seeking answers from the ceiling above.
"Everything has a reason," he murmured. "Even fate. Without reason, there is no existence. Only chaos pretending to be purpose."
A beat passed. Ivan stopped organizing his papers.
Then Slavoj turned his head slightly, finally meeting Ivan's eyes.
"Markov is not one of us, Ivan," he said quietly. "He never was."
The agents along with Markov made their way to the neuro-lab, where Doctor Jaker awaited.
"Are you okay with this?" the doctor asked as Markov settled into the low chair.
"This is okay with me. My criminality constant may be high… but I would never betray the agency. Or myself."
The doctor paused mid-adjustment. "You'll be eighteen next year, won't you?"
"Yeah."
"You'll finally be an adult." He smiled wistfully. "Time flies."
Once the reset was complete, Markov emerged from the room—refreshed, sharpened, and void of all but mission-critical knowledge. He rejoined his team.
"Markov, do you remember us?" Emma asked cautiously.
"Yes," he replied, his voice neutral. "Only the data relevant to this case. My apologies for any past inconvenience."
"God," Agent Richard muttered under his breath. "Why does Slavoj always pick him?"
Emma grinned. "Jealous, Richard?"
Richard crossed his arms, pouting. "He always gets the spotlight. Why not us?"
"Maybe… because he's smarter?"
Markov didn't say anything. He simply smiled—quiet, but content.
As the team prepped for deployment, five agents raced ahead. Despite being the youngest, Markov led them—and was, without question, the most respected.
Using a particle transporter, they arrived at Titan V, a marvel of human engineering as vast as the moon itself.
Guards permitted them entry after they presented the warrant. The team began their investigation while Markov, in classic form, found a quiet spot to… lie down.
"What the heck, Markov?!" Emma snapped.
"I'm thinking," he replied, turning on his side.
"Unbelievable—" But before she could finish, a scream rang out from another room.
"You heard that?" Markov bolted upright, sprinting toward the sound.
"A bomb?" he asked, arriving at the scene.
"A worker discovered it. It's active. Timer's counting down," Emma said, voice taut.
Markov knelt, inspecting it. "12 AM. New Year's. Starting the year with a bang, huh?"
"Not the time for jokes!" Emma barked.
Markov suddenly stiffened. A new signal buzzed through his Neuro-Chip.
"Another bomb?" Emma asked, already knowing the answer as Markov's face darkened.
"Five," he whispered. "All across Titan V. And they're not just bombs. These can really put a hole in this space craft if it explodes."
Even as he worked to defuse the first, another message lit up his interface.
His eyes widened. A grin crept across his face—slow, wicked, knowing.
"Markov? What is it? What happened?" Emma demanded.
But Markov didn't respond. He turned on his heel and sprinted in the opposite direction.
"Markov?!" she yelled, activating her comm-link. "He's running—someone stop him!"
She stood frozen, dread pooling in her stomach.
Why is he running? she asked herself.
But the truth, buried deep beneath layers of secrecy and deception, was far darker than anyone could have imagined.
Something deeper.
Something far more hollow.
What the message really read was, "Memory rebooting. Initializing operation: BREAK IN."
"That's right, I am the Hollow."