Two military men walked through a corridor, their hard boots striking the floor with a sharp rhythm. "He's in there?"
A twenty-eight-year-old lieutenant asked his commander, who wore a solemn look. "He is."
The twenty-eight-year-old soldier clenched his teeth.
"Are you afraid?" the commander asked and halted before the door.
"No."
The commander chuckled. "Better be. You don't know. Fear might save your life in this one. Behind this door is the man that slaughtered an elite team of agents sent into a red gate because he believed they were all infected."
He held the handle. "Ken Asahi… the Executioner."
The door swung open, and they both walked into a room. A glass wall divided the room. On the other side of the room was a young man whose hair fell loosely on his shoulders, chained to the wall.
