Timestamp: 02:14 A.M.
Location: Halvorsen Residence, Outskirts of Whetstone County, Montana
Date: November 12th, 20XX
Subject: Event Zero
It started with footsteps.
Then the sound of water dripping from a broken pipe in the basement.
And then — silence.
Derik stood barefoot on the third step of the staircase, his right hand clutching a loop of piano wire so tight it left an imprint on his palm. His breath was steady. His heartbeat was… bored.
02:15 A.M.
He heard the scrape of boots drag along the wooden floor below. His father was drunk again. Third time this week.
Fourth bottle.
Derik's eyes didn't blink when he saw him—6'3", built like a steel trap gone to rust, skin sour with liquor and sweat. A man who used silence like a weapon and his fists like punctuation.
He waited.
02:16 A.M.
The old man muttered something incomprehensible, stumbled toward the stairs, grumbling about "Goddamn freak boy reading again."
One step.
Two.
Three—
The piano wire whipped around the back of his neck like a noose struck by lightning. Derik didn't scream. He didn't grunt. He leaned back, all his weight focused like the point of a scalpel.
The tension in the wire cut through flesh.
His father's hands scrambled behind him, clawing at nothing.
Eyes bulged. A gurgle.
Then a single crack—his spine giving way just as Derik let go.
02:17 A.M.
He didn't fall.
He collapsed.
Like a broken statue. One leg still twitching.
Derik watched him for exactly 11 seconds before kneeling beside the body.
He closed the eyelids gently.
And whispered:
"You were my first equation. And I finally solved you."
02:19 A.M.
He dragged the body up four more steps and threw it down again — this time headfirst. Skull met wood with a sound like split melon.
To the authorities, it would be an accident. Drunk ex-military man falls down stairs. No witnesses. No suspicion.
Perfect.
02:23 A.M.
He scrubbed the wire clean with bleach, flushed the rags, changed into fresh clothes, and took one final walk through the house.
His room, stripped of anything personal.
The basement, where his real life had begun.
The bookshelf with hidden files.
The laptop's hard drive, already burning in a trash barrel outside.
02:36 A.M.
Derik Halvorsen walked out into the mist and never came back.
There were no tears.
No second thoughts.
Only calculation.
This was not revenge.
This was initiation.
End of Event Zero.
Subject's status: Ghost Protocol Engaged.