The Regressed Mercenary: Machinations, Chapter 1 - A Cold Awakening
The biting wind whipped at Jax's exposed skin, a stark contrast to the humid jungle he’d last remembered. He lay sprawled on the cold, damp cobblestones of a city alley, the stench of stale ale and decay thick in the air. His head throbbed, a dull, persistent ache that echoed the disorientation swirling in his mind. He was alive, that much was certain, but where and how remained frustratingly elusive.
The last thing he recalled was the searing pain of betrayal, the betrayal that cost him everything – his team, his reputation, and his life. Or so he'd thought. Now, he was inexplicably back, younger, weaker, stripped bare of the skills and experience that had defined him as the legendary mercenary, Jax "Razor" Blackwood.
He pushed himself up, his muscles protesting with a symphony of creaks and groans. His hand instinctively went to the familiar weight of his… nothing. No blade, no hidden compartments, no arsenal of lethal weaponry. He was unarmed, vulnerable, a ghost of his former self. The bitter realization chilled him more than the wind.
What happened to Jax? How did he regress?
The specifics of his regression remained shrouded in mystery. One moment, he was fighting for his life in the heart of a treacherous jungle, facing overwhelming odds, the next… this. He suspected foul play, a dark magic, a twisted experiment gone wrong. The only clue he possessed was a faint, lingering sensation of cold energy, a residual echo of whatever force had ripped him from the brink of death and tossed him back into this unfamiliar past. Unraveling this mystery was his immediate priority. It was a race against time, a hunt for answers before whatever entity was responsible could strike again.
Where is Jax? What city is this?
The architecture hinted at a European city, possibly somewhere in the Eastern European region. The style of the buildings, the cobblestone streets, the general ambiance – it all screamed of a time long before the technological advancements of his own era. Determining the precise location was crucial for navigating this strange new reality. He needed to find information, blend in, and rebuild his life – or at least, what was left of it.
How will Jax regain his skills and abilities?
Rebuilding his skills wouldn’t be easy. The honed reflexes, the tactical prowess, the years of combat experience – all of it seemed to have vanished along with his weapons and equipment. He was starting from scratch, a novice in a world where he'd once been a legend. He would need to rely on his instincts, his inherent talent, and a careful rebuilding process. The path to regaining his former glory would be long and arduous, filled with challenges and setbacks, but Jax Blackwood had always been resilient. He wouldn't give up that easily.
Who betrayed Jax? Will he get revenge?
The burning question that fueled his every instinct was the identity of his betrayer. He’d made enemies during his long and illustrious career, a tangled web of powerful individuals who stood to gain from his demise. Identifying and confronting his betrayer would be a crucial step towards regaining his control and exacting his revenge. But first, he needed to survive.
Jax stood, his gaze sweeping the alley. A stray cat darted into the shadows, its eyes glinting with wary curiosity. The cat's actions mirrored his own – survival was paramount. He had been given a second chance, a chance to rewrite his destiny. This wasn't just a regression; it was a rebirth. And Jax Blackwood, the regressed mercenary, was ready to begin his ascent again. The machinations had begun.
