Screams tore through the ruined plaza. Twisted metal, shattered concrete, and the acrid stench of ozone filled the air. Orlando stood amidst the devastation, his hands shaking, his chest heaving. He had done this. He had unleashed a power that ripped through the drones, but also through the world around him. His jaw clenched, a muscle working furiously. "Welcome, Orlando. The true game begins now." The voice, cold and disembodied, echoed in his mind, chilling him to the bone. It was the Alpha, speaking directly to him, confirming his worst fears. He had crossed a line, a terrifying threshold. Kane, pale and trembling, stumbled towards him. His eyes, usually so vibrant, held a distant, almost hollow look. "Orlando? What happened?" Orlando grabbed his brother's arm, pulling him close. "We need to go. Now." His gaze swept the remaining drones, their metallic husks smoking. More would come. They always did. They moved through the devastated city, Orlando's senses heightened, every shadow a potential threat. He kept Kane pressed against his side, a silent promise to protect him, even from himself. The monstrous power still thrummed beneath his skin, a dangerous hum waiting to be unleashed again. Hours later, they reached the outskirts, the dense Amazon jungle a solid wall of green before them. The humidity pressed in, a suffocating blanket. Orlando checked their supplies, his mind racing. Specter's intel about the 'Source' was vague, a whispered legend, a power core hidden deep within this wilderness. He had dismissed it as myth. Kane stopped, tilting his head. A faint frown creased his brow. "She's here," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "Mom. I can feel her." Orlando's heart lurched. "Kane, what are you talking about? How could you possibly feel her?" His brother's eyes, wide and unnervingly bright, fixed on the impenetrable jungle. "It's like… a pull. A warmth, deep inside. She's calling me. She's in there." Orlando felt a prickle of unease. Kane had been through so much. Was this trauma, delusion? Or something far more sinister? They pushed into the jungle, the canopy immediately swallowing the harsh sunlight. Vines snaked like giant serpents, roots tripped their steps. The air grew heavier, thick with the scent of damp earth and unseen blossoms. Orlando relied on his instincts, his newly enhanced senses picking up the slightest rustle, the faintest snap of a twig. Kane, however, walked with an unsettling certainty. He veered left, then right, seemingly without conscious thought, navigating the dense growth as if following an invisible path. His gaze remained fixed ahead, a strange, almost serene expression on his face. "This way," Kane whispered, pointing towards a particularly dark, overgrown section. "It's stronger here. Her presence." Orlando watched him, a cold dread beginning to coil in his gut. Kane wasn't just searching. He was being guided. Too precisely. Too instinctively. He remembered the Alpha's voice, the psychic manipulation Specter had warned him about, the way it could twist desires, amplify emotions. Specter's words resurfaced: *"The Alpha isn't just a person, Orlando. It's a network, a consciousness. It can touch minds, influence thoughts. Especially those with a connection to the 'Source'… or to its 'pawns'."* Kane's deepest desire was to find their mother. The Alpha knew this. It was using it. A horrifying realization solidified in Orlando's mind. Kane wasn't leading them to their mother. He was being *used* to lead Orlando to the 'Source'. He was a homing beacon. Anger surged through him, hot and violent. The Alpha was manipulating his brother, turning his profound grief and longing into a tool. It was a violation, a twisted game that preyed on the most vulnerable parts of their shared history. He clenched his fists, knuckles white. He wanted to scream, to shake Kane, to rip the Alpha's influence out of him. But he couldn't. Any sudden move might shatter whatever fragile hold Kane had on reality. He had to play along, for now, to understand the full extent of this manipulation. His jaw tightened. He would find this 'Source'. He would sever this connection. He would tear the Alpha's psychic hooks from his brother's mind, no matter the cost. This was more than a game now. This was personal. Days blurred into a monotonous grind of hacking through undergrowth, warding off insects, and rationing food. Kane’s conviction never wavered. His steps remained sure, his eyes holding that same distant, unnerving focus. Orlando watched him constantly, searching for any sign of his true brother beneath the Alpha’s influence. Sometimes, a flicker of fear, a brief moment of confusion, would cross Kane’s face, only to be replaced by that serene certainty. Sleep offered no reprieve. Orlando dreamt of the Alpha’s voice, a serpent coiling around his thoughts, whispering temptations of power, of control. He woke in a cold sweat, the phantom hum of his own abilities echoing in his ears. He hated this power, yet he knew he might need it to free Kane. Humidity clung to them, a second skin. The jungle pressed in from all sides, a labyrinth of green and shadow. The air grew thick with a metallic tang, a strange, almost electric quality that made the hairs on Orlando’s arms stand on end. He felt an undeniable pull himself now, a subtle vibration in the very air, growing stronger with each passing hour. He watched Kane, whose steps became more urgent, his breathing shallower. The faint, distant hum Orlando felt seemed to resonate more profoundly within his brother. Kane moved as if drawn by an invisible current, his entire being aligned with an unseen force. “Closer,” Kane gasped, his voice strained. “She’s so close.” His hand twitched, reaching out into the empty air, as if to grasp a hand only he could see. Orlando’s heart pounded, not from exertion, but from a cold, creeping horror. This wasn’t just a feeling for Kane anymore. It was a physical manifestation, a direct response to the 'Source', or rather, the Alpha’s manipulation of it. He was being led into a trap, using his brother as bait and a guide. The Alpha was playing him, orchestrating his every move. His resolve hardened. He would not let Kane be a pawn. He would break this influence, even if it meant confronting the Alpha directly, even if it meant unleashing the full, terrifying extent of his own unstable powers. He would become the monster if it meant saving his brother. A faint, ethereal hum began to emanate from Kane, growing louder with each step they took towards the jungle's heart, pulling Orlando deeper into the Alpha's web.

The Source's Call