The "Hunter" insignia seared itself into Jäger's mind's eye as he and Percival blasted free of the Leviathan Project's imploding dome. The pressure of the deep abyss was a brutal hand, but the chill that truly settled in Jäger's core was from the chilling recognition, the single word whispered through his comms: Jäger. And then, the mark.
His SHD integration, the very system that had granted him a ghostly edge, now screamed with a newly recognized threat signature. Not just an organization, but a type of organization. A specific, terrifying designation: The Hunters.
They were real. Legends whispered among the oldest Division agents, terrifying bedtime stories for the green recruits. Not the government's clean-up crews, but something far older, far darker. Designed. Trained. To kill Division agents.
"We need to move, Jäger!" Percival yelled, cutting through the roaring water. "That breach was too precise. They're coming for us!"
Jäger's submersible suit, tough as it was, couldn't outrun the specialized deep-sea breaching craft that now erupted from the leviathan's wounded shell. Their speed was unnatural, their sonar pings locking onto Jäger and Percival like hungry sharks.
"SHD trace detected!" Jäger barked, his voice tight with controlled fury. "They're pinging our watches! These aren't just advanced. They're designed to counter us!"
Percival, usually unflappable, cursed. "Syndicate intel never mentioned a counter-Division force. Not like this. Merlin has some explaining to do."
Jäger didn't have time for explanations. He initiated evasion maneuvers, weaving through underwater geological formations, kicking up plumes of sediment to obscure their trail. The Hunters, however, were relentless. Their submersibles darted and banked with uncanny agility, their specialized sonar piercing through the murk and the stirred seabed.
A burst of glowing projectiles streaked past them, too fast to properly track. Energy weapons. Their impact on a nearby rock formation left a smoking, vitrified crater. These were no conventional deep-sea craft.
"They're using an energy net!" Percival warned, his suit's external sensors screaming. "They're trying to disable our suits!"
Jäger felt the subtle hum of his SHD watch struggling against the interference. His internal diagnostics flickered. His Chem Launcher, usually his go-to for area denial, was momentarily offline. They were facing an enemy specifically designed to neutralize their advantages.
"Divide and conquer!" Jäger ordered. "Percival, break off! Head for the surface! I'll draw their fire!"
Percival didn't hesitate. "Understood. See you topside, Jäger. Don't die on me."
Jäger twisted, turning his suit's thrusters to full power, baiting the Hunters. Two of their submersibles peeled off, chasing Percival. The remaining three, larger and more heavily armed, focused their relentless pursuit on Jäger, like hounds scenting a wounded prey.
He was a ghost running through a liquid grave. He pushed his suit to its limits, navigating through treacherous underwater canyons, squeezing through narrow crevasses that tested the limits of his armor's integrity. He could feel the impacts now, the glancing blows of energy pulses that overloaded his suit's shields, causing his internal systems to spark and groan. The Hunter's tactical displays, visible in flashes on their submersibles' hulls, showed his vital signs, his suit integrity, his every move. They were playing a deadly game of cat and mouse, and they had all the advantages.
Finally, battered and bleeding, Jäger saw it: the faint, shimmering line of the thermocline, marking the boundary between the frigid depths and the warmer, more habitable upper layers of the ocean. He surged upwards, desperate for the surface.
One of the Hunter submersibles was too fast. It closed the distance, its primary energy cannon charging. Jäger knew this was it. His SHD healing, effective against bullets and shrapnel, wouldn't save him from being atomized by a direct hit from this.
At the last possible second, a streak of light, not from the Hunter, but from above, tore through the water. It was a massive, high-velocity torpedo, cloaked until impact. It slammed directly into the charging Hunter submersible, detonating in a blinding flash that ripped the underwater craft apart. The force of the explosion threw Jäger clear, tumbling through the water.
He stabilized himself, his ears ringing, and looked up. A massive, shadowy form broke the surface, its hull sleek and dark against the starlit sky. It wasn't the Syndicate yacht. It was a stealth submarine, its bow guns now swiveling, locking onto the remaining two Hunter submersibles.
A new voice, gruff and unfamiliar, crackled over his comms. "You owe me a beer, Jäger. And a full explanation."
Jäger recognized the voice. Impossible. His mind raced, his heart hammering against his ribs in his suit. It couldn't be. Not here. Not now.
The main hatch of the submarine opened. A figure emerged, tall and powerful, casting a long shadow on the moonlit deck. He was wearing military fatigues, but his posture, his presence, was unmistakable. He was holding a familiar, heavily modified battle rifle.
Aaron Keener.
"Welcome back to the land of the living, Jäger," Keener's voice, devoid of its usual sardonic edge, was gravely serious. "Looks like you made some powerful new friends… and some old, powerful enemies."
The remaining Hunter submersibles, realizing they were outmatched, disengaged, diving back into the silent depths. They wouldn't pursue a full-scale submarine. Not yet.
As Keener extended a hand to pull Jäger onto the deck, Jäger looked back at the ocean, the cold knowledge hardening in his eyes. The Hunters were out there. They knew his name. And this wasn't just a Syndicate mission anymore. This was personal. The very foundations of his new, clandestine life had just been rocked by an enemy he thought had been erased from history. And now, the ghost of a ghost, a legendary rogue agent, stood before him, changing everything.