In a dimly lit room which was silent except for the faint drip of water echoing against the stone walls. Hughes coughed as cold water trickled down his face, jerking him into consciousness. His eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light. Across from him, a man stood with a calm but piercing gaze.
"You’re finally awake," Hutton said, his voice low, carrying no hint of emotion.
Hughes glared at him, his determination sharp as steel. "Do whatever you want," he spat, his voice filled with defiance. "Not a single word will leave my mouth. You’ll get nothing from me."
Hutton remained silent, his expression unchanged, though his mind churned with emotions he couldn’t quite control. Looking at Hughes—his posture, his voice, even the fire in his eyes—it all brought back memories of a time he had long since buried.
Hutton wasn’t sure what he had expected when he laid eyes on Hughes again. After all, this wasn’t the same Hughes from his past life. No, this was a stranger, a man who didn’t know him and would never know him. But the man before him looked, sounded, and moved exactly like the lieutenant who had stood by his side, who had believed in him until the bitter end.
The memories began to pour in. Hutton—no, Taylor—could see Hughes in his military uniform, standing tall and proud during the briefing sessions before their missions. He could hear Hughes’s voice calling out orders to his regiment, his faith in Taylor unwavering even as their world fell apart. And he could feel the crushing regret of never saying goodbye, of losing him before their final battle against Timothy’s betrayal.
"Hughes," Hutton muttered, the name slipping out of his mouth unconsciously.
The reaction was immediate. Hughes narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You know my name?" he asked, his tone guarded. "Who are you? How do you know me?"
Hutton froze for a moment. His heart raced, and he quickly averted his gaze, hiding the emotions threatening to spill out. "You’re known to us," he replied vaguely, his voice cold and measured. "That’s all you need to know."
Hughes scoffed, his suspicion deepening. "So, what is this? You’re here to interrogate me? Torture me for information? Let me save you the trouble: I won’t talk. Not to you, not to anyone."
But Hutton barely heard him. His mind was elsewhere, swirling with memories of their time together. Every word Hughes said felt like a knife twisting deeper into his soul. He wanted to tell him the truth. He wanted to tell him everything. But how could he? How could he reveal that the man standing before him was once a dear friend, one he had failed to protect? How could he explain that Taylor Stark—the man Hughes had followed into countless battles—now stood before him in a different body, under a different name?
Instead, Hutton’s voice softened, tinged with an emotion he couldn’t hide. "I don’t need you to talk," he said quietly.
Hughes froze, his defiance momentarily replaced by confusion. The intensity in Hutton’s voice caught him off guard, making him wonder if he had misjudged the man standing before him.
But before he could respond, Hutton straightened and stepped back into the shadows, retreating to the door. "Rest for now," he said, his tone distant. "We’ll talk again soon."
Hughes watched him leave, his brows furrowed. Something about Hutton’s demeanor was off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. There was something oddly familiar about the way Hutton had said his name, something that tugged at the edges of his memory. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t piece it together.
As the door shut behind him, Hutton leaned against the wall, his hands trembling. The weight of the encounter bore down on him like a crushing wave. For all his strength and composure, he felt powerless.
"How am I supposed to face him?" Hutton muttered to himself, his voice barely audible in the quiet hallway.
And so, he stood motionless in the dimly lit hallway outside the room where Hughes was restrained. His mind was a storm of conflicting emotions, memories of his past life swirling uncontrollably. He stared blankly at the floor, hands clenched into fists, struggling to make sense of what he should do.
The faint sound of footsteps pulled him from his reverie. He looked up to see Bob approaching, his expression unusually soft and calm.
"Hutton," Bob began, his tone carrying an air of reassurance. "You’ve been standing here for a while. Something on your mind?"
Hutton hesitated before shaking his head slightly. "Just... thinking," he replied, his voice low and distant.
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Bob studied him for a moment before stepping closer. "You don’t have to say it, but I can tell. That guy in there," Bob gestured subtly toward the door, "he’s got you rattled. I’ve seen you fight hordes of men alone, take on impossible odds without blinking, but this? This is different. Personal."
Hutton didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he exhaled deeply, the tension in his shoulders only slightly easing.
"Yeah," he admitted after a moment. "It’s personal."
Bob didn’t press further. Instead, he gave a firm pat to Hutton’s shoulder. "Whatever it is, you’ll figure it out. You always do."
Hutton nodded faintly, though the weight in his chest remained.
"Oh, by the way," Bob continued, shifting the subject. "I wanted to let you know—the others have gone their separate ways. Kenneth said he’ll keep an eye on the restaurant and the agency while you’re... handling things. Veronica took Jake and Everlyn with her to regroup at the restaurant’s main base in Cornerstone City. As for Ling Fei..."
Bob trailed off for a moment, as if debating how to phrase the next part.
"She told me to stay with you for the time being," Bob finally said. "She’s heading back to China to deal with some family matters, but she said you’ll need backup, and I’m the one for the job."
Hutton glanced at him, his brows furrowing slightly. "You’re sure about that? She’ll need protection too."
"She made it clear," Bob replied with a faint chuckle. "And you know how stubborn she can be. If she says she’ll handle it, she means it. Besides, she seems to trust you enough to leave me behind, and that’s saying something."
Hutton nodded again, though his thoughts quickly returned to Hughes and the turmoil within him.
"You okay?" Bob asked, tilting his head slightly.
"I will be," Hutton replied quietly, though the faraway look in his eyes betrayed him. "There’s just... a lot to figure out right now."
Bob crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, giving Hutton space without leaving entirely. "Take your time. Whatever it is, you’re not handling it alone. Though you gotta be quick about it since we are kind of waiting for you."
Hutton glanced at Bob, a small, grateful nod being the only response he could muster. But even with Bob’s support, the question of what to do with Hughes loomed over him like a dark cloud.
Boom!!
But just out of the blue, the tension in the hallway was shattered by a deafening explosion that echoed from the room where Hughes was being restrained. Hutton and Bob’s heads snapped toward the door, their instincts kicking in as they rushed forward.
"Hughes!" Hutton barked, throwing the door open.
The scene inside was chaos. Dust and debris filled the air, and the room bore the signs of violent destruction. A massive hole gaped in the wall, leading to the outside world, letting in the cool night air.
In front of the hole stood Hughes, now free, his restraints discarded on the floor. His expression was unreadable, a mix of tension and defiance. But it wasn’t Hughes that made Hutton freeze.
Standing beside him was a figure cloaked in shadow, his posture confident, exuding an air of authority. The faint moonlight illuminated his features—a face that Hutton would never forget.
The world seemed to slow as Hutton’s breath hitched. His eyes widened in disbelief, his pulse quickening as memories from his past life came rushing back, threatening to overwhelm him.
"Timothy..." he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
The man beside Hughes turned his piercing gaze toward Hutton, a smirk tugging at his lips. "It’s been a while... Taylor."
’He knows who I am!?’ Hutton’s body stiffened at the name, his mind spiraling into chaos. Before he could process what was happening, Timothy raised his hand, a powerful surge of energy crackling through the room.
"Catch up later," Timothy said with a cold edge to his tone. "If you survive."
"Hutton!! Watch out!!"
In a flash, a shockwave erupted from Timothy’s hand, hurling Hutton and Bob backward as the room quaked violently. When the dust settled, Hughes and Timothy were gone, leaving Hutton stunned and trembling with unresolved rage and disbelief.
"Who was that? And why did he mention the name Taylor to you?" Bob suddenly questioned with a bewildered look on his face. But Hutton didn’t give him a reply as he thought grimly.
’Just you wait Timothy, your life is now on countdown.’