PARKER awoke ten years after the explosion, a pitch-black void in his head, a scar still bearing the bullet wound, and the sound of his own roar – the roar of the car being flung away. The world around him was a blur of figures, but two were distinct: his attending physician with his weak smile, and… LIMIT.
HA. That name echoed in his mind like thunder, the smell of fresh blood, a reason for his survival in the nightmare of his homeland. They were once two sides of a never-ending war. Parker, the hunter; Ha, the hunted. Each clash carried the scent of earth, hot metal, and frozen hatred. Parker remembered Ha's icy eyes, the blows, the whispered threats in the darkness. He was a storm, a threat to survival. Never forget your enemy. That was a principle of survival, etched into the genes of a warrior.
Yet, the moment he opened his eyes, Hạ was sitting beside his bed, holding a photo of them together on some beach – radiant smiles, hand in hand, as if they had been in love since time immemorial. "You're back," Hạ said, her voice warm and gentle, her eyes no longer sharp and piercing, but filled with something profound, weary, and… hopeful. "For these ten years, I've waited. Waited for you to wake up."
Parker's whole body was freezing. His consciousness was waking up like a malfunctioning old computer, displaying meaningless pieces of a puzzle. They were friends? Friends? He didn't believe it. It was impossible. Never forget your enemy. Maybe he was lying. Maybe this was a new, more sophisticated plot, designed to deceive him in his weakest state. Parker pushed the photo aside, his eyes fixed on Ha, searching for a trace, a stiffness in posture, a spark of old hatred.
"Don't look at me like that," Ha sighed, but didn't avert her gaze. "Do you remember anything about us?"
There was only darkness, explosions, and deep-seated hatred. But when Ha bowed her head, a strand of black hair fell across her forehead, revealing the long scar on her wrist – a scar Parker had inflicted himself during a confrontation five years ago. It was living proof. It was an indelible truth.
So why? Why was his sworn enemy here, with that expression on his face? Could it be that after a decade, hatred had transformed into something else? Or was this the most cruel psychological game, wanting him to betray his very principle of survival: Never forget your enemy? Parker clenched his fists, his nails digging into his flesh. He had to find the truth, whether it lay in the depths of hell or in the arms of the very person who had once wanted to kill him. And he knew that beneath the facade of a lover, the LIMIT was still the LIMIT. Every word, every gesture could be a weapon. He had to stay alert. He couldn't forget.
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