《Survivors》 Introduction ¡°Everyone attending my presentation has been infected by a common pathogen. I pray that these next 30 minutes will change your perception and will invoke a reaction. A call to action if you will. The virus we knew as AV13N was released upon the masses from an unknown source. This threat cannot be compared to the black plague that once ravaged our world. It is far worse. AV13N, now known as the Avien Virus, spread across the globe, invading neighborhoods and cities alike, destroying countless nations worldwide¡­ bringing the collapse of modern civilization. It created vacant cities, mountains of corpses and brought a new era where man is on the verge of extinction. Every living human has this dormant virus, which remains dormant until our death.¡±Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°As a member of the Fallen Council, I, Albert Crius, have dedicated my life in pursuit of a cure. I will not rest until it is made and distributed to everyone, thus eradicating this threat off the face of the earth. I ask all of you who are currently present, join me on this venture and help me end this nightmare of an era. Let¡¯s band together and eliminate our greatest threat since the Black Plague!¡± Chapter 1: The Sparks of Pain Bzzzzt A sharp electric buzz shattered the darkness, followed by a loud metallic click, piercing through the heavy hum that had consumed my mind. The sound dragged me, unwilling, from the depths of unconsciousness. My thoughts were murky, sluggish, as if they had been rewound and scrambled, replayed through a fog of static. I couldn''t move. Panic surged through me, raw and instant, before I could even grasp what was happening. My limbs strained uselessly against something heavy and unyielding. Fear dug its claws into my chest. Why can''t l move? Then, like a wave of acid igniting under my skin, heat flooded my body, burning from the inside out. My muscles twitched violently, betraying me as fire coursed through my veins, blistering every inch of me. My skin¡ª boiling, tearing-I couldn''t breathe, couldn''t think. A scream clawed at my throat, but only broken gasps escaped. "H-Hel-p..." My voice faltered, a mere whisper drowned by the agony. "P-P-Please..." Nothing but pain filled the gaps in my mind. My past-gone. My memories-erased. There was no "before." No answers. Just this moment, raw and horrifying, as if I had been born into it. The suffocating grip of panic tightened around my chest, squeezing my heart until it felt as though it would burst itself apart. I could smell it-the stench of burning flesh-my flesh. It filled my lungs, nauseating and thick, like death too close to an open flame. The acrid, metallic tang of blood coated my tongue, bitter and hot. "Please!" The plea scraped out of me, my voice hoarse, trembling. My wrists throbbed as the restraints bit deeper into my skin, bones creaking beneath the strain. Then, suddenly, it stopped. The heat vanished, replaced by a dull, lingering ache that pulsed through my body. I collapsed against the cold steel beneath me, gasping for air, my chest heaving as I fought to stay conscious. ¡°Huff¡­ huff¡­ huff!¡± For a few moments, I just lay there, trembling, eyes squeezed shut. The agony faded, but my mind still raced, desperate to piece together any fragments of identity, of memory. Who am I? The thought drifted through me, empty and void of meaning. I reached for something-anything-but there was nothing. Only a gaping hollow where my life should have been. A chill crawled up my spine as the terrifying truth settled in. I don¡¯t have a past. No recollection of how I ended up here-strapped to a table, broken and burning. How could I not know who I am? Thump, Thump, Thump! My heart slammed against my ribs as fresh panic set in. There has to be something that can help me remember. I need to see. Slowly, cautiously, I forced my eyes open. The light above burned, searing through my retinas. I squinted, desperate to focus. The shadows beyond the glow were indistinct-blurred shapes, flickering and twisting as if they existed just outside of reality. The air was sterile, thick with the chemical scent of antiseptic, mingled with the bitter stench of charred flesh. Through the blinding light¡ªas my vision cleared, I could barely make out the shapes surrounding me. Machines. Wires. Metal trays. The cold sterility of the room was all wrong, alien, like a lab or an operating room. A chill ran down my spine. Where am I? I tried to call out again, but my throat locked up, the effort only producing a guttural, ragged breath. ¡°Argh¡­ ugh!¡± My voice-too weak, too broken. My body trembled under the restraints, still too fragile to fight. Someone or something is doing this to me. That thought cut through the haze like a blade. I wasn''t here by accident. Someone¡ª something-was responsible for the pain. A silhouette moved at the edge of my vision¡ªa figure, tall, standing behind a desk. Beyond them, a whiteboard. Scattered notes and diagrams littered the desk around it, chaotic, unorganized. Thump, Thump, Thump! My heartbeat echoed in my ears, each beat louder than the last, time slowing to a crawl. The room swirled in and out of focus.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. I have to calm down. I have to think, this person must be the one behind this. A man emerged from behind the towers of books. His gaze was piercing, cutting through the haze and igniting a fresh wave of panic through me. My instincts told me he was someone to fear. His presence alone seemed to overwhelm me completely. Thump, Thump, Thump! My heart pounded harder, faster, each beat sending shockwaves throughout my body. My nails bit into my palms, tearing the skin. I felt the blood dripping, slow and steady, pooling beneath me. Plop-! Plop-! I watched helplessly as the drops fell to the floor, a sickening rhythm that seemed to sync with the pounding in my chest. My focus never moved from the man. Then, a sound¡ªa click. I heard the man''s voice for the first time. It was low and clinical, devoid of empathy. "The subject''s heart rate is spiking... no visible damage where the shocks were applied. No changes to physique either." His words were laced with disappointment. Subject? My mind raced. The steel beneath me. The restraints. The shocks. It all began to click. I was a prisoner, a lab rat. His experiment. I have to get out of here. Desperation surged through me as I struggled to form words, my voice still weak, broken. "Please... why am I here?" "Don''t play games,¡± The man glanced at me from where he stood. Irritation flashing briefly across his face until his lips curled into a sneer. ¡°We¡¯re moving on to the next test." More tests? I shuddered at the thought. I needed answers. I needed to escape. "Why am I here? Please!" I yelled, my voice cracking. His response was cold and didn¡¯t make much sense to me. "For the future of humanity," he said, stepping back into the shadows with a satisfied smile. How is this for humanity? Then, without warning, another jolt of electricity shot through me, sending fire racing through my veins once more. My body arched, rigid with pain. My screams died in my throat as the darkness closed in around me. ¡ª¡ª¡ª///////¡ª¡ª¡ª I awoke to a blinding light above me, searing through my skull like a drill. Every movement felt like a war against my own body. My bones cracked and echoed in the small space. This is fucked up. With a surge of desperation, I lifted my head as my muscles screamed in protest. Cold steel continued to bite into my wrists and ankles-still chained, still trapped in this room of cold metal and cruelty. Bound and defenseless against my captor. "My head... it''s splitting... no, my whole body... it''s burning!" I groaned, the pain coursing through me like electric fire. A shadow moved, stepping into the light. It was him again-the man from before. His face swam into focus: square glasses, patchy beard, deep bags under his eyes. The harsh overhead light made it impossible to tell his hair or eye color, leaving him more a silhouette than a person. He wore a long white coat that gave him a hollow authority. But it wasn''t him that terrified me¡ªit was the reflection in his glasses that spoke a horrible truth. A skeleton wrapped in thin, bruised skin strapped to the table. A grotesque shadow of a person. My body-malnourished, broken, diseased. Thump, Thump, Thump! "What are you doing to me!? This-this can''t be for any just cause! How am I even alive?" My voice cracked, raw with confusion and pain. Nothing made sense. The sterile glare of the overhead light felt too sharp, too cold, as if reality had been twisted just beyond recognition. My breaths came shallow and ragged, my skin prickling like a thousand unseen needles. Perhaps... this was hell. Divine punishment. Some god''s wrath. It had to be. "Hahaha..." Cynical laughter bubbled up from deep inside me, like a madman surrendering to fate. Did I deserve this? "Hahaha.." The sound echoed in the sterile room. ¡°Am I going to die?¡± The man''s lips curled into a tight, wry smile. He didn''t answer my question; his cold eyes studied me like an insect pinned to a board. "Congratulations, Edwin. Today''s results show an increase in your resistance to electrical stimulation. A noteworthy improvement, though not the outcome l had hoped for." He pulled a towel from his pocket and draped it over my face. The cool fabric offered a brief, false comfort before the suffocating dread set in. I couldn''t see him anymore. Panic surged, stronger than before. The heavy thuds of his footsteps reverberated throughout the room, each one made me flinch involuntarily. I will escape from here no matter what! The white towel obscured my vision, but my body tensed, primed for whatever was coming. Driven by muscle memory. I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists, digging my nails even further into my palms. There was a moment of still silence as the footsteps came to an end. Click! "Next week, i''ll increase the voltage again. For now, it''s time to move on to the next phase," he said calmly. I heard him collapse into his chair with a heavy thud, his voice detached from any human warmth. And then it hit me, clearer than anything before. My name is Edwin. Fwoosh-! As if summoned by that realization, freezing water poured down from above, drenching me in icy needles. I gasped, only to choke on the flood, water filling my lungs, burning my chest. My heart raced¡ªno, it was on fire. My mind spiraled as every breath became a battle. Why am I here? Why am I being tortured like this? Why can¡¯t I remember!? The deluge continued, an unrelenting stream for what felt like an eternity. My mind grew dim, consciousness slipping away. But then, a sudden burst of heat surged through my chest, shooting down my left arm like liquid fire. "Ahhhhh!" The scream ripped from my throat, primal, uncontrollable. The man behind the desk shot to his feet. ¡°It¡¯s finally happening again!¡± With an almost feral eagerness, he vaulted over the desk, a syringe in hand. His movements were swift and precise. He jabbed the needle into my left arm, extracting blood with the efficiency of a pro. He has undoubtedly done this many times before. Just as he withdrew the needle, it snapped. The broken piece rocketed upward, embedding itself into the steel ceiling above. "Fascinating," he muttered, wiping his brow. "It''s time to conclude today''s experiment. Hopefully this time, it will work! He returned to his desk, typing a command into the console. ''Stop¡± The water ceased immediately, the icy torrent coming to an abrupt end. ¡°Cough-! Cough-! Cough!¡± I coughed violently, my lungs desperate for air yet had no space for it. I turned my head in time for a torrent of water and blood to spew from my mouth. "Alright, Edwin," he said, his voice flat. "Now that we''ve gathered today''s data, you''ll go back to your cell." ¡°Who are you?¡± My voice was barely a whisper, hoarse from the torture. ¡°Who are ¡ª¡° He didn''t answer. Instead, he drew another syringe from his coat and plunged it into my neck. Whatever was in it worked fast, pulling me into darkness before I could ask again. Chapter 2: A Father’s Experiment The man strode across the sterile laboratory, his white coat trailing behind him like a ghost. The faint hum of overhead lights and machines buzzed in the background, a sound as unrelenting as his thoughts. Albert''s fingers brushed against the clutter on his desk before settling on a worn radio. His voice, sharp and clinical, pressed a button and began speaking a clinical stoic tone. ¡°I need Edwin out of my lab and back in his cell,¡± He delivered the command without hesitation, his tone devoid of humanity. Pssst-! The radio sputtered to life with a burst of static. ¡°Copy that, Sir Albert. On my way,¡± came the reply, clipped and obedient. Albert walked over and flipped a switch near the door. A flood of harsh, sterile unforgiving light spilled over the room, revealing every merciless detail¡ªstainless steel instruments stained with crimson smears, the lifeless boy strapped to the steel table, the puddle of blood forming on the cold metal table¡ªdripping onto the floor like a metronome. Albert¡¯s gaze lingered on Edwin who laid limp and unresponsive. For the briefest moment, something broke through his meticulously constructed fa?ade. Guilt. It was fleeting, like a shadow passing over his features, but it struck with enough force to tighten his throat. His fists clenched at his sides before he forced them to relax. He exhaled slowly, his breath trembling ever so slightly. ¡°This is all I can do,¡± he murmured to himself, the words hollow. His eyes darted to Edwin once more, softening imperceptibly. ¡°This time¡­ this time, I¡¯ll succeed. I will make it work and end your suffering. Happy fifteenth birthday, Edwin.¡± The words were hollow, like an empty promise whispered to the void. Tsss-! The steel door hissed open, cutting through Alberts brief moment of vulnerability. A mountain of a man stepped inside, his frame nearly filling the doorway. His bald head gleamed under the unforgiving lights, and his polished boots clacked sharply against the tiled floor. His expression was unreadable. Without hesitation, he snapped a crisp salute, the motion almost militaristic in its precision. ¡°Have a wonderful day, Sir!¡± the man boomed, his voice deep enough to rattle the air. Albert nodded curtly, his focus already elsewhere. "No dinner for him tonight. Bring him back to me twenty minutes after breakfast tomorrow." ¡°Understood, Sir. See you then.¡± The man lowered his arm and moved toward the table with surprising grace for someone his size. He pressed a hidden button beneath the edge, releasing the restraints with a hiss. Edwin''s limp body sagged into his arms like a broken marionette. Albert turned sharply, his coat flaring behind him as he exited the room. The door sealed with a hiss, the sound cold and final. However James noticed the look on Albert¡¯s face. Something was different about him today. ¡°Judging by his face, it must not be something good.¡± He groaned under his breath. The man shifted and adjusted Edwin''s weight on his shoulder, glancing at the boy¡¯s fragile, unconscious body. His lips twisted into a faint smirk, more pity than malice. "Poor bastard," he muttered, his tone more resigned than cruel. "Just another shitty day in paradise.¡± James turned and walked to the metal door. Flashing his ID against the scanner, the door opened with a loud hiss. The corridor stretched before him, its white walls devoid of life or warmth. The overhead LEDs buzzed like insects, their cold light reflecting off the polished floors. Each step echoed loudly, amplified by the emptiness of the space. The air reeked of antiseptic and chemicals, sharp enough to sting the nose. James let his thoughts wander as he walked. I hope this ends one day. Maybe... maybe this kid will actually give us the cure. In his years as Edwin''s Keeper, James had learned three unshakable truths:
  1. Albert''s orders were absolute. To disobey was to risk banishment beyond the walls of the Fallen City, a fate worse than death.
  2. No questions could be asked about Edwin. His role in finding the cure was sacred, shrouded in secrecy.
  3. Never, under any circumstances, grow close to Edwin.
These rules were his guideline as Edwin¡¯s Keeper. These rules were easy enough to follow and allowed him many privileges he wouldn¡¯t be able to get otherwise. The rules acted like his shield, his anchor in a world that had long since lost its morality. Following them came easily now. The longer he worked, the easier it became to see Edwin as less than human¡ªa tool, a means to an end. And yet, cracks had begun to form. Tiny fissures in his carefully constructed apathy. "Keep your head down," James murmured to himself, his voice barely audible over the echo of his boots. "This job''s all I''ve got. I After what felt like an eternity of identical halls, James arrived at a reinforced steel door. The reinforced steel door loomed at the end of the corridor. James pulled his ID badge from his pocket, swiped it across the scanner, and waited. A low beep signaled the door''s release, followed by the hiss of hydraulics. Inside the cell, the air was colder, heavier. Without ceremony, James lowered Edwin''s limp body onto the concrete floor. The boy''s thin frame landed with a dull thud that echoed in the silence. James lingered for a moment, his gaze fixed on Edwin. The boy''s pale skin seemed to glow under the harsh light, every bruise and scar a testament to the life he''d been forced to endure. James''s jaw tightened. ¡°You¡¯ve got some real shit luck being here, kid,¡± he muttered under his breath. ¡°But hey, thanks to you, my life¡¯s a hell of a lot easier.¡± He turned and left, the door sealing shut behind him with a hiss, leaving Edwin alone in the suffocating silence. Darkness swallowed the room, save for a faint glow seeping through the crack beneath the door¡ªa weak reminder that something still existed beyond these four walls. James¡¯ heavy footsteps faded into the distance, leaving only silence and the rhythmic drip of water from a distant, unseen pipe. ¡ª¡ª¡ª///////¡ª¡ª¡ª I woke to the stifling grip of the dark. The first thing that hit me was the stench¡ªa rancid cocktail of sweat, rusted metal, and something far worse. My stomach churned, bile rising in my throat as I struggled to sit up. The space was suffocatingly small, no bigger than a closet. My hand brushed against something cold and unyielding¡ªa bucket, its foul contents sloshing faintly with the movement. Beside it, a metal toilet stood mockingly close, its edges crusted with grime. A faint light seeped through the gap beneath the steel door, just enough to illuminate the outlines of my prison. Shadows danced eerily on the walls, elongating the cramped space into something even more sinister. Pain surged through my skull¡ªa sharp, relentless throb, as though my head were caught in a vice. I clutched my temples, my fingers digging into my skin as I fought the wave of nausea that followed.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°My head¡­¡± I croaked, the words rasping out of me. The pressure grew unbearable. I doubled over, retching violently. Hot bile burned its way up my throat, spilling onto the floor with a wet splatter. Sploosh! Gasping for relief, I crawled to the toilet, plunging my head into the frigid water. The icy liquid shocked my system, soothing the fire in my chest as I drank greedily. The taste of rusted metal clung to my tongue, but I didn¡¯t care. When I finally pulled back, collapsing onto the concrete, reality sank its teeth in. I¡¯m not free. Flashes of memory struck me like jagged shards of glass. Electric shocks. The cold bite of restraints. The sterile glow of the lab. My body trembled, every nerve raw and exposed. I¡¯m nothing more than an animal in a cage. ¡­ Why did he stop? The thought clawed its way to the forefront of my mind, insistent and sharp. My limbs ached, my head swam, but the question remained. Why had the man¡ªin the white coat¡ªleft me here instead of finishing whatever experiment he had started? The faint glow beneath the door offered no answers, only a reminder of how small and powerless I was. My chest tightened as the weight of my situation bore down on me. I don¡¯t know how much longer I can survive this. The more I tried to piece it together, the sharper the ache in my head grew. Thoughts unraveled like threads, slipping out of my grasp, leaving nothing but fragments and frustration. Grrrrr-! The growl tore through the silence, a gnawing reminder of my neglected hunger. I hadn¡¯t eaten in¡­ who even knew? Time felt meaningless here, lost in the blank monotony of the room. I scanned the space again, desperate for distraction. The bucket in the corner¡ªits bottom stained with what could only be vomit¡ªreeked faintly even from a distance. The toilet, mercifully clean, sat squat in another corner, a grim necessity. Beneath my feet lay a threadbare rug, worn thin and fraying at the edges. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was all that separated me from the cold, unfeeling floor. A small grace. A cruel mockery. Is this my life now? The thought clawed at me as I curled in on myself, knees tucked to my chest. My stomach growled again, louder this time, an insistent gnashing that was impossible to ignore. Hunger turned my insides to lead, twisting painfully with each pang. I forced my gaze around the room again, hoping¡ªfoolishly¡ªfor a scrap of food hidden somewhere, anything to take the edge off. But the walls closed in, as small and oppressive as they¡¯d been moments ago. There was barely room to stretch without touching the cold, unyielding floor. ¡°I hope I get to eat soon,¡± I mumbled into the quiet, my voice barely more than a whisper. Sinking back down, I leaned against the wall opposite the door, trying to steady myself. There was nothing else to do but wait. Footsteps occasionally thudded past outside the door, heavy and unhurried, but they always faded quickly. My only companion was the empty ache in my stomach and the slow crawl of time. I started counting, anything to measure the silence. One minute. Five minutes. Thirty. An hour. By the time I reached what felt like an hour and a half, the monotony shattered. A sound¡ªa faint, metallic squeak¡ªcaught my attention. A cart. It stopped right in front of the door blocking the light from seeping in. Then, with a jarring clang, the steel door swung open. The hulking figure in the doorway was instantly familiar. The burly man. He scoffed, tossing a small container into the room like it was trash. ¡°Here¡¯s breakfast,¡± he grunted before slamming the door shut behind him. I stared at the container, heart thudding. My first instinct was caution, but hunger drowned it out. I lunged for it, prying it open with shaking hands. Inside was a modest meal: two water bottles, gelatin, mashed potatoes, carrots, beets, and two chicken drumsticks. To someone else, it might have looked pathetic. To me, it was a feast. At least they have the decency to feed me. I wasted no time, scooping mashed potatoes into my mouth as fast as I could. The warm food was a balm, easing the ache and steadying my trembling hands. I washed it down with a careful sip of water, forcing myself to think through the haze of desperation. One drumstick vanished next, the meat rich and comforting. Then the carrots, then the beets. Another drumstick. I rationed the water carefully, knowing I¡¯d regret it later if I drank too fast. By the time I reached the gelatin, sweet and cool against my tongue, I felt almost human again. When it was over, I hid the second water bottle behind the toilet, a small insurance for the unknown ahead. Full and finally sated, I collapsed onto the rug. Sleep swallowed me quickly, dragging me into a dreamless void. Clunk! The harsh sound jolted me awake. My eyelids fluttered against the sudden, intrusive light. The burly man loomed over me like a shadow. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± he growled, grabbing my arm and hauling me upright before I could fully process what was happening. ¡°Where¡­ where are you taking me?¡± My voice cracked, hoarse from disuse. He didn¡¯t answer, his silence a wall as solid as the steel door that clanged shut behind us. He dragged me into a blinding corridor, my legs stumbling clumsily beneath me as I struggled to keep pace. What is this place? The hallway stretched endlessly, lined with sterile white walls and glaring fluorescent lights. Doors punctuated the space at regular intervals, each one identical, each one locked. The disorientation was nauseating, the memories of my first waking moments here swirled in my mind. This must be some kind of lab or facility. The man¡¯s grip was iron, his pace relentless. I watched him carefully, searching for an opening, something I could use. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± I asked, trying to sound casual. ¡°I¡¯m Edwin.¡± Nothing. ¡°Do you know how old I am?¡± Still nothing. His silence bit harder than any words could. Guess I won¡¯t be getting anything useful out of this guy. Eventually, we stopped in front of a massive steel door. The man pulls his badge to a scanner. Beep! Hisssss- The door slid open with a mechanical hiss. In that brief moment, I caught a glimpse of his badge: James McCain. Private Guard. James. I hope I can get you to talk. The room beyond was a nightmare given form. The steel table in the center was the first thing I noticed, its surface reflecting the harsh glow of the overhead lights. Around it, machines hummed softly, their screens blinking with unreadable data. Wires snaked across the floor, a chaotic web that made the room feel alive, pulsing with a sinister energy. There he sat behind a cluttered desk. His head didn¡¯t even lift as we entered. ¡°Place him on the table,¡± he ordered, his voice as heavy as the machines that surrounded him. ¡°Yes Albert, Sir!¡± So that¡¯s his name. McCain yanked me forward, and I didn¡¯t resist. My body moved on autopilot, betraying me. I climbed onto the table, cold metal biting into my skin as restraints snapped into place around my wrists and ankles. Thump. Thump. Thump. My pulse roared in my ears, each beat a desperate cry to run. But there was nowhere to go. Relax your body. Close your eyes. The voice wasn¡¯t Albert¡¯s. It came from somewhere deep inside, calm and commanding. Familiar yet unknown. I didn¡¯t question it. I obeyed. My muscles loosened as I exhaled slowly. My heartbeat steadied. For the first time since waking here, I felt something I couldn¡¯t name at the time. Readiness. Then, it began. Bzzzzzzt! A surge of icy energy raced through me, flooding my veins with cold fire. It spread like liquid lightning, electrifying every nerve. My body jolted against the restraints, but the pain didn¡¯t consume me like before. It was sharp, but bearable. I cracked one eye open, catching McCain¡¯s retreating form as the door hissed shut behind him. He didn¡¯t look back. Albert¡¯s voice cut through the haze like a scalpel. He wasn¡¯t talking to me but instead into something in his hand. ¡°Personal notes,¡± he muttered, his tone clinical. ¡°The vial extracted from the subject has yielded no significant results. The subject adapts to stress protocols faster than anticipated. Intensified testing will be necessary.¡± A pause. Then he continued, each word carving dread into my soul. "A decision will have to be made soon... A purer source might be required. I am running out of options." Albert''s voice hung in the air, his words sharp and clinical, devoid of emotion. The soft hum of the computer filled the silence as he stopped the recorder, his fingers swiftly navigating a program on his monitor. I need to get out of here. He¡¯s going to kill me. The screen came alive with a human figure diagram, sectioned into zones-left arm, right arm, legs, chest, head. Each area glowed with shifting colors: blue, yellow, orange, and red. Data scrolled alongside, jagged graphs pulsing like the erratic heartbeat of a machine. His eyes locked onto the figure''s temperature reading: 97.8oF-steady but unremarkable. Albert''s fingers danced over the keyboard, making incremental adjustments to a label marked "output." A subtle click was the only warning before the world inside me exploded. An energy surge rippled through my body¡ª violent, all-consuming. It was fire, pure and unrelenting, coursing through my veins. Heat erupted within me, searing flesh, burning through muscle, and tearing at the edges of my mind. My back arched violently against the restraints, every nerve screaming. I gasped for air, my chest heaving, lungs grasping at the cruel emptiness. My teeth clenched so hard I thought they might shatter, my muscles locked in a torturous dance of resistance. And still, the heat grew. It wasn''t fire anymore. It was lava, molten and alive, churning in my veins, clawing at my insides. Time lost all meaning-seconds stretched into unbearable eternities. I gritted my teeth harder, desperate to hold on, but I was breaking, splintering under the weight of it all. Every fiber of my being begged for release. My body was failing, shuddering violently against the pain. My vision blurred-colors bled together, light turned to shadow, and shadow threatened to consume me. I couldn''t fight anymore. So I surrendered. I let go of the fight, of the pain, of the world. My consciousness retreated, slipping into the dark corners of my mind, fleeing from the firestorm that had become my reality. The heat, the agony, the desperate clamor of my body-they dulled, faded into echoes. And then there was silence. Weightless, formless, I floated in a boundless void. No heat, no pain, no light-just endless darkness. A black sea stretched infinitely around me, cradling me in its cold, indifferent embrace. I couldn''t move. There was no body to command, no limbs to flail, no lungs to draw breath. I simply drifted, a small, fragile speck in the vast abyss. For the first time in what felt like centuries, there was peace. A hollow, aching peace. Chapter 3: Breaking Chains Albert¡¯s eyes glinted coldly behind his square glasses as he leaned forward, scrutinizing the machines with laser precision. The faint whir of monitors filled the room, an unfeeling soundtrack to the chaos erupting within me. His calm exterior stood in stark contrast to the firestorm he was building inside my body. A new wave of heat surged through my veins¡ªnot the sharp sting of pain I¡¯d grown used to, but something entirely different. It was electric, alive, spreading like wildfire from my core to every limb. My fingers twitched, then flexed, as if charged with a new and uncontainable energy. Beneath my skin, my veins illuminated, glowing with pulses of light that throbbed in time with my heartbeat. I saw the reflection of it in Albert¡¯s lenses, his eyes widening with something almost feral. ¡°Remarkable,¡± he whispered, his voice a mix of awe and greed. His lips curled into a grin, sharp and hungry. ¡°You¡¯re evolving faster than I dared hope.¡± My muscles strained against the straps pinning me to the steel table, every fiber of my being swelling with unnatural power. The icy grip of fear and exhaustion that had once claimed me was burned away, replaced by a growing, insatiable warmth. No¡ªthis wasn¡¯t just warmth. It was power. Raw and untamed, it roared through me like a wildfire in a storm. It was rising in power with every passing second, as if it had a mind and goal of its own. And then, with no warning, the surge peaked. An explosion of energy ripped through me, so overwhelming it tore a scream from my throat. My back arched violently, the restraints digging into my skin until¡ªcrack. One by one, they snapped like brittle bones under pressure. My eyes shot open, but they weren¡¯t mine anymore. A distant part of me realized I was no longer in control. I could feel it clawing its way forth. Through the haze, I caught a glimpse of Albert. His clinical intrigue twisted into something closer to terror. With a guttural roar, I tore free of the last straps binding my ankles and swung my legs off the table. My bare feet hit the cold floor, but I barely felt it. My entire body pulsed with strength I couldn¡¯t fully comprehend, like I was both alive and aflame. The room tilted for a moment, but I steadied myself, each breath deep and controlled. ¡°I¡¯m free!¡± I roared. Albert staggered back, his hand fumbling across the desk for something¡ªanything. His composure cracked, his voice rising. ¡°Guards! Guards!¡± He lunged for the radio, but I was faster. Before he could reach it, I was on him. My hand shot out, seizing his coat, and I slammed him against the wall with enough force to dent and rattle the metal panels. His glasses skewed, one lens reflecting his wide, terrified eyes. He was no longer the composed scientist; he was just a man, trembling, cornered by the monster he created. Rage boiled deep within me. A seething, uncontrollable rage. I wasn¡¯t in control of my body, but I didn¡¯t dare defy it. Instead I encouraged it to do more. To inflict the same pain I had felt if not worse. ¡°Why?¡± I growled, my voice unrecognizable, low and laced with a venom that wasn¡¯t entirely mine. ¡°Why are you doing this to me?¡± Albert¡¯s lips quivered, but no sound came out at first. His hands shook as he raised them defensively. ¡°Edwin, listen to me¡ªthis is for humanity! You¡¯re the key, don¡¯t you understand? You¡¯re¡ª¡± ¡°For humanity?¡± I slammed him against the wall again, cutting him off mid-sentence. His head snapped back, bouncing off the steel with a sickening clang. ¡°You¡¯ve been torturing me for years! And for what? Some cure?¡± The word tumbled out of my mouth, foreign yet familiar. My thoughts blurred, pieces of truth scraping against one another like jagged glass. Cure? Is that what this is about? Albert¡¯s fear deepened, his breath hitching. ¡°You¡­ you don¡¯t understand,¡± he wheezed, his voice barely audible. ¡°This¡ªthis is bigger than you. Bigger than all of us.¡± ¡°Exactly,¡± I snarled, the fire in my veins surging. ¡°I¡¯m bigger than all of you.¡± My grip on his collar tightened, lifting him slightly off the ground. ¡°Now tell me¡ªwhere is the serum?¡± Before he could answer, the steel door hissed open, and two guards stormed in, rifles aimed. ¡°Let him go!¡± one barked. I didn¡¯t hesitate. Spinning on my heel, I hurled Albert to the floor like a discarded doll and turned to face the intruders. They opened fire, but the bullets slowed midair, shimmering as if caught in invisible molasses. I watched them hover, then stepped forward. Each movement was deliberate, almost casual, as I closed the distance. The first guard tried to adjust his aim, but I swatted the rifle from his hands as though it were a toy. My hand shot out, grabbing his wrist. With a brutal twist, I heard the satisfying snap of bone, followed by his scream as he crumpled to the ground. Crack! The second guard fired again, desperation in his eyes. I was on him in seconds, grabbing his weapon and snapping it in two with my bare hands. My fist slammed into his chest with a force that sent him sprawling to the floor, gasping for air. Silence fell over the room, broken only by Albert¡¯s ragged breathing behind me. And then it hit me. A wave of nausea slammed into my gut like a wrecking ball, and the fire inside me flickered, unstable. I stumbled forward, clutching my head as a searing pain tore through my skull. My vision blurred, and my legs gave out beneath me as my consciousness began to return to my body. ¡°No¡­ not yet,¡± I gasped, collapsing to the floor. My body convulsed, drenched in sweat, trembling uncontrollably. Through the haze, I saw Albert dragging himself to his desk, his every step a struggle. He reached for the radio with shaking fingers, his voice trembling but resolute. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°I need a cleanup crew in the lab. James, Robert, Sanchez¡ªreport to the lab immediately. And send someone to escort me to the Third Level.¡± As soon as he released the button, his legs gave out, and he crumpled to the floor. Minutes later, the door slid open again, and a cleanup crew rushed in, flanked by fresh guards. Their eyes widened at the carnage¡ªthe shattered restraints, the broken bodies, the faint glow still fading beneath my skin. Albert pointed weakly toward me. ¡°Secure the subject,¡± he rasped. ¡°Now.¡± But as they moved toward me, I couldn¡¯t fight anymore. My body gave in, dragging me into unconsciousness. And as the darkness closed in, one thought echoed in my mind. What have they turned me into? A faint voice broke the tension, raspy and commanding despite its weakness. ¡°Help me up.¡± Sanchez and Robert hurried to the source, finding Albert slumped behind the desk, barely clinging to consciousness. They each took an arm, lifting him to his feet. His weight dragged heavily between them, but his voice, though strained, carried the unmistakable edge of authority. ¡°Take those two to the med floor,¡± he rasped, nodding toward the unconscious guards. ¡°James, return Edwin to his cell. No food for him¡ªno lunch, no dinner, no breakfast. The boy¡¯s got more energy than he deserves.¡± I couldn¡¯t make sense of their words. The voices felt distant, muffled. Everything hurt¡ªmy body, my head, my very existence. James snapped to attention, saluting briskly. ¡°Right away, sir. I¡¯ll handle it.¡± As Sanchez and Robert half-dragged Albert out of the room, one of the cleanup crew muttered, his voice thick with disbelief. ¡°What the hell happened here?¡± ¡°Check out the restraints,¡± another chimed in. ¡°Bent steel¡­ It''s like something out of those old monster movies. This¡¯ll take hours to fix.¡± ¡°Someone grab a replacement panel for the wall,¡± a third added. ¡°That dent¡¯s massive.¡± James ignored their chatter, his expression tight as he took in the wreckage. Seemingly unaffected by it all, he walked over to where I was, collapsed and still convulsing. If they truly understood what Edwin was capable of, they¡¯d be thanking whatever gods they prayed to that Albert had survived at all. Shaking his head, he stepped over the chaos and knelt by my limp form. He sighed heavily, muttering, ¡°Come on, kid. You¡¯ve caused enough trouble already.¡± With little effort, he grabbed me by the arms and hauled me up. My body hung like dead weight as he dragged me out the lab and through the labyrinth of sterile, fluorescent-lit corridors. The chill of the floor seeped through my thin clothing, but I barely registered it. My mind was a foggy haze of pain and disjointed thoughts. I am a subject. There¡¯s a cure. I¡¯m a monster. Who am I? When we reached the cell, James flung the door open and unceremoniously dumped me inside. My body hit the cold floor with a dull thud, and he stood in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the harsh light of the hallway. ¡°Damn kid,¡± he muttered. ¡°Snapped again¡­ just like last time.¡± He lingered for a moment, his eyes distant, haunted by the memory of my previous rampage. The destruction, the chaos¡ªit had been burned into his mind like a brand. He clenched a hand to his chest, fighting the dread that gripped him, then exhaled sharply and slammed the cell door shut. The sound echoed in the empty hallway as he turned on his heel and strode away. In the suffocating darkness of the cell, my mind drifted, unmoored from the world. My body felt weightless, my consciousness untethered. The pain dissolved into nothingness, and for the second time today, I found myself floating¡ªfloating through an endless expanse of stars, galaxies, and shimmering comets. The vast beauty of the universe unfolded before me, a symphony of light and motion that seemed to exist solely to soothe my fractured mind. For a fleeting moment, I felt at peace. This¡­ this isn¡¯t real, I thought, my voice echoing in the void briefly. But it feels better than the truth. The stars pulsed brighter, their glow intensifying as if reacting to my thoughts. ¡°I¡¯ve been trapped here for years,¡± I murmured, my words both distant and close. ¡°Tortured in the name of finding a cure.¡± The memories surfaced like jagged shards of glass, slicing through the calm. ¡°My name is Edwin. The guard is James McCain. That¡¯s all I know¡­ but it¡¯s not enough.¡± The stars around me flared, their light growing too intense to bear. I clenched my eyes shut, but the brightness seeped through. My thoughts spiraled deeper. ¡°Who was it?¡± I whispered into the void. ¡°Who took over my body?¡± The realization struck like a thunderclap, bitter and cold. This body¡ªmy body¡ªhad been hijacked, commandeered by something far more sinister than I could understand. I felt like a stranger, not just in the sterile lab but in my own skin. "Who was it that took over my body?" The stars exploded into a blinding white, and my consciousness plunged into silence once more. ¡ª¡ª¡ª///////¡ª¡ª¡ª Pain greeted me before consciousness fully returned. I groaned, my body feeling as though it had been shattered and clumsily reassembled. The icy floor beneath me seemed to mock my frailty, each breath sending a jolt of discomfort through my chest. My throat was a wasteland, raw and cracked, and hunger gnawed at me with relentless cruelty, like a beast that refused to be silenced. I shifted onto my side, curling up in a futile attempt to escape the agony. It didn¡¯t help. Nothing ever did. How long has it been since I¡¯ve eaten? Grrrr¡ª The growl of my stomach echoed in the stillness, a cruel reminder of how little time mattered here. Days, weeks, maybe even months could¡¯ve passed, and I wouldn¡¯t know the difference. Time was a phantom, slipping through my fingers before I could grasp it. Through the haze of hunger and pain, a fleeting thought broke through. Forcing myself to move, I shoved aside the threadbare rug that served as my excuse for a bed. Beneath it, scratched into the floor, was a date: 5 AA, Month 8, Day 7. It¡¯s something, I thought, staring at the crude inscription. But the glimmer of hope was quickly drowned by doubt. Was that the day I was brought here? Or does it mean something else? Frustrated, I covered the marking again and collapsed back onto the rug. The thin fabric barely offered a barrier between me and the unyielding floor, but I couldn¡¯t summon the energy to care. My head throbbed as my mind spiraled, fixating on the cryptic date. AA¡­ what does that stand for? My thoughts raced, desperate for answers. Albert¡¯s Agenda? I laughed bitterly, the sound hollow in the empty cell. ¡°What the hell does it mean?¡± I whispered to no one. Suddenly, the echo of approaching footsteps snapped me out of my thoughts. They were faster this time, more urgent. I scrambled to the door, pressing my ear against it. Voices filtered through the thick metal¡ªone male, one female. The woman sounded angry, her words sharp and clipped. Then, silence. My heart pounded as the footsteps grew louder. I stumbled backward, panic rising like bile in my throat. The door slammed open with a metallic clang, revealing James, his face twisted in a scowl. ¡°I hope I don¡¯t have to see her again anytime soon,¡± he muttered under his breath, his tone dripping with disdain. His cold gaze settled on me, and his voice turned harsh. ¡°Alright, kid. Same as every day. Let¡¯s get you ready for your next set of tests.¡± Fear washed over me, smothering the hunger that had consumed me moments ago. My stomach twisted into knots, and my voice came out hoarse and trembling. ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± I said, barely above a whisper. ¡°I feel sick. There¡¯s a hole in my stomach, my heart¡¯s racing, and my head feels like it¡¯s going to explode. I¡­ I can¡¯t go.¡± James raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. ¡°You don¡¯t have a choice. Councilor Albert¡¯s orders.¡± That was it. Something inside me snapped. ¡°I¡¯m not going back to that lab!¡± I shouted, the words ripping from my throat. ¡°It¡¯s not a test¡ªit¡¯s torture!¡± James shrugged, his indifference cutting deeper than any scalpel. ¡°Why should that matter to me?¡± My breath caught. He didn¡¯t care. None of them did. To them, I wasn¡¯t a person¡ªI was an experiment, a subject. I looked around the tiny cell, its bare walls and cold floor the only reality I¡¯d ever known. For all I could remember, I might¡¯ve been born here, raised in this prison of pain and hopelessness. It felt suffocating. My voice dropped, hollow and broken. ¡°Is there any chance you¡¯d just kill me?¡± James smirked, a twisted, humorless thing. ¡°There¡¯s always a chance. Is that what you want?¡± I hesitated, my mind clouded with fragments of memories¡ªor perhaps the lack of them. ¡°I don¡¯t even remember anything from before yesterday,¡± I admitted. ¡°I don¡¯t remember faces¡­ I don¡¯t remember me.¡± James tilted his head, his tone flat and detached. ¡°Not surprising. We¡¯re not allowed to get close to you. Councilor Albert doesn¡¯t want any¡­ incidents.¡± His lips curled into a smug grin. ¡°Besides, I like my job. It¡¯s easy: keep an eye on you, and take you to him when he needs you. After that, you¡¯re his problem, not mine.¡± His words were a slap, sharp and final. ¡°C¡¯mon now, we¡¯re wasting time.¡± Without warning, James grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet. Pain shot through my body as he dragged me out into the corridor. My legs barely supported me, and I stumbled, but he didn¡¯t slow down. Chapter 4: Broken Chains The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, cold and unfeeling. The hallway stretched endlessly before us, each step pulling me closer to the nightmare waiting on the other side. The hallway stretched endlessly before me, dim and oppressive, the walls lined with doors that held horrors I dared not imagine. Each step echoed through the stillness, reverberating like a haunting reminder that escape was impossible. Some doors glowed faintly, with muffled sounds emanating from within-low hums, clinking metal, whispered voices. Others were dark and silent, but the air around them seemed to thrum with a malevolence that set my teeth on edge. I knew better than to hope for an empty corridor. This place was alive in its own twisted way, feeding on fear, thriving on despair. James walked ahead, his grip on my arm firm but detached, as though I were nothing more than cargo. I stumbled once, my legs weak, but he jerked me upright without a word. His face remained impassive, devoid of emotion, a perfect reflection of the soulless facility around us. At the end of the corridor, we entered a larger, sterile room dominated by an elevated office with tinted glass. My chest tightened. I didn''t need to see behind the glass to know who was there. I could feel his presence, cold and oppressive, like a storm cloud pressing down on my soul. James shoved me inside and locked the door behind me with a deafening clunk. The sound was final, a steel blade cutting off any hope of escape. I threw myself against the door, pounding on it with fists that felt feeble against the unyielding metal. Thump, Thump, Thump! "Let me out!" I screamed, my voice raw, a blend of desperation and fury. But I knew it was useless. It always was. The intercom crackled to life, and that voice ¡ªhis voice-slithered through the room like a serpent. "Edwin," Albert said, calm and clinical. "I need you to replicate yesterday''s results. This time, I''ll be collecting your blood for analysis." My blood ran cold. My heart slammed against my ribs as panic surged, primal and unrelenting. "No!" I shouted, spinning to face the glass as though I could see him, as though he would care. "I won''t do it! You hear me? I won''t!" Albert''s voice remained infuriatingly composed. "You don''t have a choice, Edwin. You never have." "What if I don''t?" I snarled, my breath coming in ragged gasps. "What are you going to do, kill me? Go ahead!" Silence followed, the kind that stretched long enough to let doubt creep in. I could hear my own frantic breathing, the blood roaring in my ears. When he spoke again, Albert''s voice was tinged with amusement, as if I were a stubborn child throwing a tantrum. "Defiance is predictable. You''ve always been predictable. But I promise you, Edwin, resistance will only make things worse." "Worse?" I shouted, laughing bitterly. "Worse than this? How long have you kept me here? How long have you turned my life into a nightmare?" Albert sighed, a sound so nonchalant it made my blood boil. "If I tell you, will you calm down?" "Go to hell!" I shouted. The room came alive with a sharp whirr as a hidden panel slid open on the wall. My instincts screamed at me to move, to run, but there was nowhere to go. A mechanical arm extended, and I barely had time to brace myself before¡ª Bang! A white-hot pain exploded in my back, searing through every nerve. I crumpled to the ground, gasping, my vision swimming. My hands clawed at the floor as I felt something foreign lodged deep in my spine. Then it moved. Slowly, agonizingly, the object began to shift, as though my body were rejecting it. Clink-! The sound was small but deafening in the silence. I turned my head, every movement a battle against the pain, and saw it¡ªa bullet, slick with my blood, glinting under the sterile lights. But the wound was gone. The pain had vanished, leaving behind only the phantom sensation of agony. "What the hell.." I whispered, staring at the bullet. Did he really just shoot me? I know I felt the pain but was I imagining it? Where¡¯d the wound go? Albert''s voice cut through my haze. "Fascinating, isn''t it? Your body''s resilience is truly extraordinary. Keep defying me, and we''ll test its limits. Pain, after all, is an excellent teacher." Rage surged through me, hot and consuming. "You''re a monster," I spat, my voice trembling. Albert chuckled, the sound devoid of warmth. "And you''re my creation. You owe me everything, Edwin. Your life is mine. Now, stop wasting time and comply." The room shifted. Lights flickered, then turned blood red, painting the walls in a menacing glow. My head throbbed, the pressure building as memories crashed over me like a tidal wave. Pain, needles, screams ¡ªmy screams. Straps binding my limbs, Albert''s voice commanding, demanding. Every moment of my existence had been torment, every second a new layer of hell. The realization hit me like a physical blow: I had no past, no future. Only this-a perpetual cycle of suffering at the hands of the man who claimed to have given me life. I gritted my teeth, my fists clenching until my nails toad skin and bit into my palms. "You''ll regret this," I growled, the words more a promise to myself than a threat to him. "I don''t care what it takes. I''ll make you pay, I¡¯ll make you suffer more than I have." Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. The intercom clicked off, leaving me alone in the crimson-lit room. But I wasn''t alone, not really. The rage within me had awakened, a storm brewing in the depths of my soul. And for the first time, I didn''t feel helpless. I felt dangerous. The pain struck like lightning, sharp and consuming, before fading into the depths of oblivion, only to return in jagged bursts as the red lights began to flicker viscously. My knees hit the cold, sterile floor as a scream tore from my throat, raw and guttural. Heat surged through my body like molten lava, every nerve ending alight. My right arm swelled with unnatural force, the skin blistering, bubbling, and hissing as steam escaped in sharp bursts. My heart thundered against my ribs, the rhythm violent and unrelenting, each beat a threat to rip me apart. "I hate you!" I roared, my voice splintering under the weight of my agony. "I hate everything!" Albert''s voice crackled through the intercom, fervent and exultant. "Yes! It''s working, Edwin! Let it out! Let it mutate!" The words were like oil on a fire. My body seized, muscles spasming uncontrollably as the transformation took hold. My arm twisted grotesquely, the skin stretching and splitting, revealing raw, pale sinew beneath. ¡°Graaaaah!¡± Bones splintered and reformed, elongating in horrific cracks that echoed in my ears. The arm grew monstrous, a hulking mass of pale, veined flesh, grotesque and alien, dragging heavily toward the ground. My fingers had morphed into claws, razor-sharp and gleaming like darkened steel. Then, the mark. A black energy pulsed at the back of my wrist, a dark, swirling vortex that burned itself into my flesh, branding me with a glowing "V." The sight sent an icy dread crawling up my spine. It wasn''t just power-it was something beyond me, something I couldn''t control. The room seemed to tilt as the transformation completed, leaving my body trembling, overwhelmed by the sudden surge of strength. My breath came in ragged gasps as my veins screamed in rejection, as if every fiber of my being was unraveling under the weight of this alien force. And then came something beyond rage. Raw and heavy yet calm and gentle. A new emotion unlike any I had felt. I felt the power flow into my swollen arm. Break free! It roared in my clouded mind. Before I could react, a surge of power exploded in my right arm. Boom! The wall exploded under my fist, a deafening crash of stone and steel crumbling as alarms blared to life. My mutated arm had punched clean through it with effortless force, sending shards scattering across the room. Albert''s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and panicked now. ¡°Guards needed in Lab A6! Secure him now!¡± I didn''t wait. I couldn''t. My mind screamed one word over and over: Run! I tore through the hallways, my feet pounding against the tiled floor. Guards and scientists scattered, their shouts and cries blending with the cacophony of alarms. I ducked into an empty room, yanking a coat off a chair and throwing it over myself. My breathing was erratic as I peered into the hallway, watching the guards sweep through, rifles at the ready, their movements seemed practiced. Albert''s voice boomed through the intercom. "Secure all exits! Sweep every floor! Verify every evacuee! He does not leave this building!¡± ¡°Fuck.¡± I muttered under my heavy breathing. Panic clawed at my chest. My thoughts raced. My arm-it had reverted, shrinking back to its original form. The transformation wasn''t permanent, but I needed it again. It was my only chance. How do I get out of here? The clock¡¯s ticking¡­ I¡¯m running out of time! Tick-! Tick-! Tick-! There wasn''t much left in the room. Nothing but silence and the ticking seconds, counting down to what felt like the end. I stopped, staring at the door. My thoughts raced. My arm-it was the only chance I had. Maybe I could use it as a shield, or break through the walls. Or maybe, l''d have to fight my way out. But first, I had to summon it. At some point during my escape, my arm returned to its normal state. That means if I can return to normal subconsciously, I should be able to change it consciously. I just need to know how to trigger it! Thinking back to the lab, a memory popped into my mind. Albert had said it activated when I was near death, however just now I was induced by flashing lights. So then that can only mean there is more than one method. I moved quickly, dragging a chair across the floor and wedging it under the doorknob. It wasn¡¯t going to be enough. So I pulled a desk over, reinforcing the barricade. It was only a matter of time before they¡¯d start pounding on the door, but I knew it was coming. The light fixture above me caught my eye. I didn''t hesitate. I swung my fist into it, shattering the bulb into a rain of jagged shards. Glass sliced into my hand, but the wounds closed almost instantly, my body rejecting the injury like a machine resetting itself. A few drops of blood hit the floor, but it wasn''t enough to trigger my mutation. I crouched, picking up a large shard, its edge glinting menacingly. My hand trembled as I pressed it to my stomach. "This has to work," I whispered to myself. Thump! Thump! Thump! My heart pounced at the sudden banging on the door behind me. I could hear the guards now, rattling the handle, their voices muffled but urgent. Bam! Bam! Bam! "This room! It''s barricaded-get me backup!" Bam! Bam! Bam! There''s no time, I thought, pressing the glass shard against my stomach. Here goes nothing. I clenched my teeth, pressing the shard harder. The glass pierced my skin, sharp pain radiating as blood seeped out, staining my shirt. But it healed almost instantly. No power. No change. I stabbed myself, wincing at the sharp pain, feeling my skin tear. But the wound closed almost instantly. No power. No mutation. Nothing. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I muttered, panic rising. I stabbed myself again, and again, harder each time. Blood poured from each wound, but my skin healed as quickly as I tore it. The dizziness came next. The puddle of blood in front of me grew larger with every stab, my vision blurring with each cut. I was getting weaker, losing control. "Come on," I muttered, my voice trembling. ¡°Come on!¡± Bam! Bam! Bam! The pounding at the door grew louder, more urgent. I stabbed again, harder this time, the shard digging deeper into my abdomen. Pain wracked my body, but the wound closed in seconds, leaving no trace of my effort. Desperation overtook me. My vision blurred, tears threatening to spill as I plunged the shard again and again, each attempt more frantic, more forceful. Blood continued to pool at my feet. I continued the repeated action of stabbing myself until the glass shard in my hand suddenly felt heavy, almost impossible to lift. But I couldn¡¯t feel anything anymore anyway. With a final, shaky stab, I pulled the shard from my gut and collapsed to my knees. The wound didn¡¯t heal this time. Blood poured from the gash, pooling beneath me, soaking into the cracks of the cold, sterile floor. My body felt cold and numb. If I can¡¯t escape this hell¡­ I can at least die here. End it all. End the pain. Bam! Bam! Bam! The pounding on the door grew louder, the voices of the guards outside growing frantic. They were shouting orders now, but it didn¡¯t matter. I had nothing left. I fell to my side, staring at the door as my vision blurred and faded into black. Finally, I closed my eyes. Bang! The explosion tore through the room, a deafening roar that shattered my senses. The force hurled me against the wall, crushing what little air was left in my lungs. Pain erupted through my body, blinding and raw. My ears rang with the echo of the blast, and the acrid taste of blood filled my mouth. I couldn¡¯t move, couldn¡¯t even flinch as debris rained down around me. Through the smoke and chaos, a shadow emerged. Albert. His pristine lab coat was speckled with dust, his eyes locked on me like a predator assessing its prey. Guards swarmed the room behind him, weapons drawn, their shouts muffled and distant. I was nothing more than a broken body lying in a pool of blood and rubble. My mutated arm had reverted, useless and frail. The transformation I had fought so hard to summon had abandoned me. Albert¡¯s voice sliced through the haze, calm yet commanding. ¡°Get him stabilized and down to the infirmary. Now.¡± The guards hesitated, their eyes flicking to my crumpled form. ¡°Sir, he¡ª¡± ¡°Now!¡± Albert snapped, his voice sharp as a scalpel. Two guards rushed forward, draping a white sheet across the floor before lifting my limp body onto it. My head lolled to the side, the world spinning as they hoisted me up. I barely registered the motion, my consciousness slipping like sand through my fingers. As they carried me out of the room, Albert¡¯s voice followed, low and almost inaudible beneath the alarms. ¡°So this is where it begins¡­¡± We descended into the depths of the facility, the elevator humming like a distant heartbeat. My body swayed as the guards carried me, the edges of my vision darkening with each passing second. The metal doors slid open, revealing the third level. A stark white infirmary stretched before us, sterile and oppressive, its fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow. A reception desk stood at its center, and beyond it, rows of medical equipment hummed softly. A nurse rushed toward us, her face pinched with concern as she barked orders I couldn¡¯t hear. Her hands pressed against my chest, trying to staunch the flow of blood, but it didn¡¯t matter. I was beyond saving. I let my head fall back, my eyelids growing impossibly heavy. The sounds around me became distant, muffled, like I was sinking into water. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the fight drained from me completely. Finally, I closed my eyes and let the darkness take me once more. Chapter 5: Echoes in the Infirmary The infirmary was abuzz with tension that day. A sense of foreboding hung in the air. Nurse Judy''s breath hitched when her eyes fell upon the boy. Edwin. His frail body lay limp on the gurney, pale and motionless, as if the life had been siphoned from him. His ribs jutted out against paper-thin skin, and a jagged gash marred his stomach, fresh blood staining the tattered remnants of his shirt. She quickly rushed over and put her hand on his still open wound trying to keep pressure on it. A ripple of unease passed through the air above them. Edwin was no stranger to this place, though not like this. His presence usually carried whispers of experiments and horrors. But now, the boy was teetering on the edge of death, and it was up to her to pull him back. "What happened?" Judy''s voice cut through the muted hum of the infirmary, sharp and demanding. Guard Robert stood by the elevator door, his face a mix of confusion and concern. "We''re not sure. The wound on his stomach wasn''t from us when we blasted the door open. We think... he may have tried to take himself out." Judy froze. The words clawed at her. Tried to take himself out? Her mind reeled at the implications. "What the hell is Albert doing to him in those labs?" she demanded, her voice laced with venom. Her fists clenched at her sides, trembling with barely contained fury. James stepped forward, his expression as stoic as a marble statue. "We''re not obligated to share classified information, ma''am," he said coolly. "Councilor Albert''s orders are simple: save the boy. No questions asked." The anger simmering beneath Judy''s composure threatened to boil over. "Orders? Orders?" she hissed. "If Albert cares so much about saving him, maybe he should explain why this child is lying here with one foot in the grave!" James''s jaw tightened, but before he could retort, Robert intervened, raising a placating hand. "Let''s not escalate this, Judy," he said, his tone far softer than hers. "We''re just following protocol." Judy wasn''t having it. "Then follow it somewhere else. My staff and I need space to save him, and you two lurking around won''t help in there." James stood his ground, unyielding. "I''m not leaving his side," he said firmly. "If he wakes up and tries something again, it''s on me." His eyes flicked to Judy''s name tag. "Judy." Her lips thinned into a hard line. "The more people cluttering this room, the slimmer his chances of survival," she snapped. "If you''re so determined to play watchdog, then guard the door. Or better yet, take it up with Councilor Albert, let him give you the command." Robert cast a wary glance at James, sensing the brewing storm. "She''s got a point, James," he said cautiously. "If Albert finds out we interfered and the kid dies..." James''s nostrils flared, his fists clenching at his sides. "I don''t trust him," he muttered, his voice a low growl. "You''ve got no idea the things and now this?" He stopped himself abruptly, realizing he was treading dangerous ground. "Watch it," Robert warned, his tone sharp. James, still unsettled, muttered, "I know. I just don''t trust the kid. He''s already caused enough trouble." James gritted his teeth and clenched his fists just barely stopping himself from making a mistake. Instead, he shot Judy a glare before stepping aside. "Fine. But if he does anything, it''s on you," he spat. Judy didn''t waste a second. "Good. Now move. And if there''s anything else you''re hiding that might help save him, speak up now." James''s eyes flared, but he remained silent, his jaw set like stone. Nurse Judy didn''t waste another second. "Good. Now move, we don''t have much time. If you know anything else that might be useful, please let me know now before we go in." James'' eyes flared yet he did not respond. Another nurse appeared with a stretcher, and the team carefully transferred Edwin''s fragile body onto it. His shallow breaths rattled in his chest, each one a battle against oblivion. Judy exchanged a fleeting glance with her staff, a silent plea to work faster. The boy didn''t have much time. Inside the room, the nurses scrambled, taking vitals and cleaning the gaping wound on Edwin''s stomach. Judy''s focus was unyielding, her mind racing through possibilities. Yet outside the room, the tension between Robert and James lingered like a dark cloud. "That woman," James muttered under his breath. "She reminds me of that damn doctor who''s always pestering us on the Second Level." Robert raised an eyebrow. "Doctor Cenilera?" James nodded, his scowl deepening. "Yeah. She''s always asking to see Edwin or Albert. Won''t let up. It''s annoying." "Maybe you should let her," Robert suggested with a wry smile. "Might get her off your back." James shook his head vehemently. "No way. If Albert finds out, I''m dead. His rules are absolute." Robert sighed, leaning against the wall. "You ever think... maybe she''s onto something? She clearly knows something if she hasn¡¯t been silenced yet.¡± James didn''t answer, his eyes fixed on the door as though watching over Edwin would silence the doubts clawing at his mind. Behind that door, the battle for the boy''s life raged on. And somewhere above them, Albert''s shadow loomed, his intentions as inscrutable as ever. Click! Clack! Click!The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. The sharp echo of heels against the polished floor cut through the tense silence, drawing both guards'' attention. Down the corridor, a familiar figure appeared, her confident stride as unmistakable as the determined glint in her eyes. James stiffened, quickly averting his gaze. "Speak of the devil," Robert muttered with a sly grin. "Looks like she''s been assigned as the kid''s doctor after all." James''s lips curled into a tight scowl. "Good. Maybe now she''ll leave me alone," he said, though his tone carried more hope than certainty. "She''s been hounding me for months. Now she''s finally got her wish." Robert chuckled, leaning against the wall. "Or she''ll just have more questions for you. Bet she''s got a few choice words about all this." James glared at him but said nothing, his jaw clenching as the woman drew closer. Her presence was both a relief and a reminder¡ª one he wasn''t sure he was ready to face. ¡ª¡ª¡ª///////¡ª¡ª¡ª The room was small and stifling, its air thick with the sterile scent of antiseptic. Machines lined the walls like soldiers, humming softly as their flickering lights cast eerie shadows that danced like ghosts in the dim space. There were no windows, no respite-just the cold indifference of metal and the steady, relentless beeps of monitors tracking each fragile second of Edwin''s fight for life. Beep¡­ Beep¡­ Beep. Doctor Cenilera stepped into the room, her composed fa?ade faltering for a moment as her eyes landed on the boy''s pale, lifeless form. Edwin lay surrounded by wires and tubes, his wound still gushing crimson that pooled in dark, accusing puddles on the floor. Her heart clenched, but her years of experience surged to the forefront, steadying her trembling hands. "Get me his file! I need his blood type immediately!" she barked, her voice slicing through the room''s oppressive silence. "Closing that wound and stabilizing his oxygen levels are our priorities until we get blood for a transfusion. Judy, start an IV and monitor his vitals." "Yes, Doctor," Judy responded, her hands already moving with practiced precision. "I''ll retrieve his file and order the blood," Nurse Aninlie interjected, darting toward the door. Cenilera''s sharp gaze followed her. "Make those guards outside useful. Have one assist you with bringing the equipment here. Now go." "I''m on it," Aninlie called over her shoulder as she hurried out. Judy leaned over Edwin''s frail form, her hands steady but her heart heavy as she inserted the IV into his limp arm. The boy''s face, pale and bloodless, seemed to stare through her, though his chest rose and fell faintly beneath the tangled mess of tubes. A sudden twitch in his fingers made her breath hitch¡ªa faint spark of life that no one else seemed to notice. "Do you think he''ll make it?" Judy''s voice was a whisper, trembling with the weight of unspoken fears. Cenilera''s face remained grave. "The odds are against us. If he loses more than forty percent of his blood..." She trailed off, the implication heavy in the room. "He''s already lost nearly thirty." Judy swallowed hard, her voice cracking. "So... there''s still a chance?" Cenilera met her gaze, her voice softening just enough to be human. "Yes. But only if we move quickly. Closing that wound is critical. A transfusion won''t replace what he''s lost fast enough." Judy nodded, determination flickering to life in her eyes. "I''ll gather the equipment and be back right away." "Please hurry," Doctor Cenilera urged, as Judy rushed out of the room. Cenilera moved to Edwin''s side, gently placing her hand on his forehead. The boy''s skin was cold, clammy, causing her heart to clench. She brushed a strand of damp hair from his face, her fingers lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. His skin was clammy, unnaturally cold beneath her touch, and her chest tightened with a mixture of anger and sorrow. "What were you trying to prove, Edwin? What has Albert done to you?" she murmured, her voice barely audible¡ª she spoke in a motherly tone. The boy gave no response, no indication that he could hear her. Only the machines answered her questions, their relentless beeps marking time as it slipped through her fingers. A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. Aninlie returned, Robert following behind her, carefully wheeling in the blood transfusion machine. She handed Cenilera a box of ice containing two packs of O+ blood, her hands already moving to prep the machine. "Hook him up, but don''t start the transfusion until I give the word," Cenilera ordered, her voice calm and commanding. "Yes, Doctor," Aninlie replied, her fingers deftly assembling the equipment. Beep! Cenilera tapped a small device on her coat, calling for an update from Nurse Judy. Edwin''s breathing began to stabilize, though he remained unconscious, locked in a battle for his life. As the machine hummed to life, Cenilera worked quickly, connecting the machine and inserting a tube to drain fluids from Edwin''s fragile body. The boy''s breathing began to steady, though his pulse remained dangerously weak. Aninlie glanced toward Robert. "You can go now." The guard hesitated, his gaze lingering on Edwin. The boy''s stillness was unnerving, but for a moment, Robert thought he saw the faintest twitch of an eyelid¡ªa flicker of something unspoken, something alive. He cleared his throat. "I hope he pulls through," he muttered before stepping out into the corridor. The memories of that day would linger long after the machines had quieted, and the room had emptied. A testament to the fragile threads that held life together, and the unanswered questions that still haunted the minds of those who witnessed it. ¡ª¡ª¡ª///////¡ª¡ª¡ª Outside the infirmary room, James paced back and forth, his eyes darting to the door every few steps. His anxiety was palpable. The rhythmic clinking of his boots echoed off the sterile walls. When Robert finally emerged, James practically jumped. "What''s wrong, James? You need the restroom or something?" Robert teased, trying to break the tension. "Of course not. What''s the status?" Robert leaned casually against the wall, his voice light. "Under control-for now. Don''t tell me you''re worried, James. That''s not like you." James glared at him, his jaw tight. "Albert''s going to want an update. If I don''t give him one soon, he''ll come to me-and you know what that means." Robert chuckled. "Relax. You''re here, in the heart of the Fallen City. Albert wouldn''t keep you this close if you weren''t important. He needs you to protect him and his son, not some crumbling wall out there." James huffed but said nothing, his expression still clouded with doubt. "I just want something to report. If that boy wakes up, it''ll be enough." "Yeah," Robert agreed, his tone unusually somber. "If he wakes up, that''ll mean he''s still got some fight left in him." James nodded but remained rooted in place, his eyes fixed on the infirmary door. Neither man said another word, their thoughts circling the boy inside who would decide all their fates. "Think you''d mind being the one to tell Albert when we get something?" Robert shrugged. "As long as it''s good news, I don''t mind." Suddenly, Nurse Judy came sprinting down the hallway, pushing a cart stacked with medical supplies. The sound of rattling metal and her hurried footsteps broke through the tense silence. James caught sight of her first, halting his pacing. "Finally," he muttered, stepping aside and gesturing to Robert. "Open the door for her, Robert." Robert rolled his eyes but complied, pulling the door open just as Judy rushed up. "Thanks," she muttered breathlessly, barely glancing at him as she pushed the cart inside. Robert closed the door, turning back to James with a raised brow. "What?" James asked defensively, narrowing his eyes. "You could''ve opened the door. Are you still upset from earlier?" Robert shot back, his tone teasing. James folded his arms. "You were standing closer. Besides, it''s your turn to do something useful." Robert smirked. "Fine. Next time, I''ll make sure you''re the one getting barked at for holding things up." James just sighed, his gaze shifting back to the closed infirmary door. "I hope whatever she brought in there makes a difference." Robert glanced at the door as well, a flicker of unease crossing his face. "Let''s just hope they''re fast enough." ¡ª¡ª¡ª///////¡ª¡ª¡ª Inside the room, the tension thickened like a fog as Doctor Cenilera scanned the blood transfusion bags and medical equipment with a sharp, assessing gaze. She nodded briskly. "Perfect. Judy, hand me the tools as I call for them. Aninlie, I''ll need you to assist me directly." Both nurses responded in unison, their voices steady despite the weight of the moment. "Yes, Doctor." The operation began without hesitation. Cenilera worked with a calm precision born of years of experience, her hands moving deftly as she removed jagged shards of glass from Edwin''s body and meticulously cleaned the wound. Nearly an hour passed in grim silence, broken only by the soft beeping of machines, the rhythmic hum of the ventilator, and the occasional metallic clink of surgical tools. "Aninlie," Cenilera instructed without looking up, "start the transfusion. We need to stabilize him before his organs begin to fail." "Right away, Doctor," Aninlie replied, her fingers flying over the controls. The machine hummed to life, the sound mingling with the subdued tension in the room. All eyes were on the monitor as Edwin''s weak heartbeat began to steady, the erratic peaks and valleys smoothing into a consistent rhythm. His shallow breaths grew deeper, his chest rising and falling in a way that no longer seemed like a losing battle. "He''s responding," Judy murmured, her voice tinged with awe. "It''s almost... too fast. I''ve never seen anything like this." Cenilera''s sharp gaze flicked to Judy, her expression unreadable. "It''s Albert''s work," she said curtly. "We''re only scratching the surface of what he''s done. Or what he''s capable of." "You think it''s some kind of drug?" Aninlie asked hesitantly, her brow furrowed. "Something designed to speed up healing?" "Maybe," Cenilera admitted grimly, her voice heavy with uncertainty. "But if it is, it''s unnatural. Inhumane. To manipulate a body like this... It shouldn''t be possible. And yet, in this world, maybe that''s exactly what''s necessary. I don''t know what to think anymore." Chapter 6: Signs of Life Judy shook her head, her features tight with frustration. "It doesn''t matter what we think. What''s done is done. Albert''s orders were clear-save him. No matter the cost." Cenilera''s lips pressed into a thin line as her eyes lingered on Edwin. His pale, fragile form lay motionless beneath the tangle of wires and tubes, his once-vibrant energy reduced to a faint spark. "To think someone like Albert, once a beacon of wisdom and reason, would use his own son as a test subject..." Her voice faltered, the weight of her thoughts evident. "He''s not the man I knew. Not anymore." The room fell into a heavy silence. Judy and Aninlie exchanged uneasy glances, the unspoken tension curling between them. This wasn''t the Doctor Cenilera they knew-the pillar of composure and confidence. This was someone rattled, haunted by the face of the boy before her. Aninlie finally broke the silence, her voice tentative. "You know him, don''t you?" "Cenilera''s shoulders sagged slightly, her hands pausing mid-motion. "I used to," she admitted quietly. "Back then, he was just a boy who''d come in with scraped knees or bruises from playing too rough with his friends. Always so full of life... and now?" Her voice grew bitter. "Now, look at him. Broken. Beaten. Locked away in some cell like a criminal. Why? For what? To save the rest of us? It doesn''t feel right." Judy''s voice was barely above a whisper. "He''s been through hell. To think he even tried to." She swallowed hard, her words faltering. "The wound, those shards-it didn''t look like anything l''ve ever seen. It''s like he... it''s like he was tearing himself apart from the inside." The doctor nodded. "Exactly. His skin shows a single, clean wound, but internally... it''s like he tore himself apart." The beeping of the monitor punctuated the quiet that followed, a grim reminder of how precarious Edwin''s condition remained. After a long pause, Judy straightened. "I should give the guards an update before my shift ends. That James guy''s liable to have a panic attack if we don''t." "Wait," Cenilera said, her voice firm as she rose to her feet. "I''ll handle it. You and Aninlie stay here. Keep an eye on him. If anything changes, call me immediately." Judy and Aninlie exchanged hesitant looks but nodded. The door clicked shut behind Cenilera, leaving the nurses alone in the room with the unconscious boy. The weight of what they''d just witnessed lingered, heavy and oppressive. Aninlie glanced down at Edwin, her voice soft. "Do you think he''ll make it?" Judy hesitated, her gaze fixed on the faint rise and fall of his chest. "I don''t know.¡± ¡°Then do you think he really caused the damage they say he did? I heard they had to use explosives to contain him,¡± Aninlie murmured. Judy tightened her grip on the clipboard she held, her eyes never leaving Edwin. ¡°Does it really matter? Whether we know the truth or not, our job is to heal him. But¡­ if I¡¯m being honest? I believe it.¡± Aninlie frowned, folding her arms as she studied Edwin¡¯s frail form. ¡°Then he really is a monster. Worse than what¡¯s beyond the walls, maybe.¡± Aninlie hesitated, glancing toward the closed door. ¡°I think Doctor Cenilera would know better than us.¡± ¡°She would¡¯ve said something by now if this were natural,¡± Judy replied, her tone firm. ¡°This? This is Albert¡¯s doing.¡± "Then he really is a monster," she said, her voice tinged with something between pity and fear. "Worse than what''s beyond the walls, maybe." "That''s probably why Albert keeps him locked up," Judy replied, her tone thoughtful, laced with a curiosity she couldn''t suppress. "The bigger question is whether this strength came from Albert''s experiments... or if Edwin was already this way before." The air grew tense, their words hanging heavy between them. It was a conversation neither of them was brave enough to finish. Their voices fell silent as the door creaked open, the sound sharp in the stillness. Doctor Cenilera entered, her steps deliberate, her face drawn with a weight she carried better than anyone else in the compound. The room shifted around her, the quiet authority in her presence suffocating any further whispers. "You can both go now," she said, her voice calm but brooking no argument. Her eyes barely flicked to the nurses as she crossed the room. "I''ll take it from here. Thank you for your help."This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Judy nodded, setting the clipboard on the counter. "We''ll be at the nurses'' desk. Page us if you need anything." Without another word, the two nurses slipped out, leaving Cenilera alone with Edwin. For a long moment, she didn''t move. She stood by the door, her eyes fixed on him. The steady beep of the heart monitor filled the room, the erratic spikes that had once dominated its screen replaced by a more even rhythm. His chest rose and fell steadily now, each breath quiet and fragile. Slowly, she approached the bed, her movements as deliberate as her words. She replaced his IV bag with practiced hands, her fingers gentle as if afraid her touch might shatter him. "You shouldn''t be here," she whispered, the words more for herself than for him. Her voice cracked, the weight of guilt pushing against her composure. "You should''ve been free, far away from all this. But instead..." She trailed off, her shoulders sagging under the weight of what she couldn''t say. She leaned over him, studying his face. The bruises had begun to fade, leaving behind a pale canvas marked by exhaustion. His closed eyes twitched slightly, as if caught in the remnants of a nightmare. Her own breath hitched as she reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "It pains me to see you like this," she murmured, her voice trembling. "You''re fighting so hard, even now. I don''t know if you''re fighting us or for yourself, but... I''m sorry for what we''ve done to you." Her words hung in the air, raw and unguarded, a confession spoken to someone who couldn''t hear her¡ªor wouldn''t remember if he did. The apology felt hollow, a plea to absolve her own guilt rather than ease his suffering. The weight of her sorrow lingered in the room, unspoken but palpable. In the stillness, it was as if Edwin could hear her silent apology, though neither of them could ever truly escape the shadow of what had been done. She sat by his bedside for a moment longer, her hands folded tightly in her lap. The faint hum of the monitor and the soft hiss of the IV were the only sounds in the room. Finally, she stood, her movements slow, as if reluctant to leave. The weight of her sorrow lingered in the sterile air, unspoken but palpable. And though Edwin remained still, unconscious and oblivious, it felt as though he had heard her all the same. "I need to go back now," she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her eyes lingered on his face, a flicker of something hopeful breaking through the sorrow. "Please wait for me." The words trembled on her lips, carrying more weight than she intended, as though they were a promise-to him, to herself, to the part of her still desperate to make things right. The weight of her sorrow lingered in the sterile air, unspoken but palpable. And though Edwin remained still, unconscious and oblivious, it felt as though he knew she was there. His rigid expression softened, the tension easing from his features, as if her presence alone was enough to quiet the pain, if only for a moment. ¡ª¡ª¡ª///////¡ª¡ª¡ª Albert sat alone in his office, his gaze fixed on the surface of his desk as though the answers he sought might somehow be etched into the wood. Two empty mugs stood at his side, faint rings of coffee staining their rims¡ªa quiet testament to his unraveling composure. The weight of sleepless nights bearing down on his shoulders. The fluorescent light above cast an unforgiving glow over the cluttered workspace, making the gleaming insignia on his closed laptop seem almost accusatory. His hand reached for the phone, fingers hovering¡ª trembling above the receiver as though the device itself might burn him. He hesitated. "It''s been two hours," he murmured, breaking the silence. His voice sounded foreign, brittle. "If something had gone wrong, they would''ve called by now." Still, doubt gnawed at him. His fingers twitched, a nervous tremor he couldn''t quite suppress. The words sounded hollow, even to himself. He pulled his hand back, pressing it against his temple as though trying to steady the chaos in his mind. "I can''t risk losing him," he muttered, the words thick with something between desperation and resolve. "Not now. Not when everything depends on him." His fingers twitched, hovering over the phone again, they lingered for a moment longer before falling back into his lap. The thought of dialing-of hearing news that could unravel everything-was too much. The silence stretched, punctuated only by the faint hum of machinery. A knock at the door broke it like shattering glass. Albert straightened, dragging a hand down his face as the door creaked open. "Come in," Albert called, his tone clipped. Robert stepped inside, his uniform slightly disheveled, his expression worn but composed. He didn''t speak right away, as though gauging the mood in the room. Albert''s voice was sharp. "What is it? Do you have news?" "I have news about your son." Albert''s heart jolted, though his face betrayed nothing. "Tell me." Robert nodded. "He''s alive. Stable," he said carefully. "The doctors think it''ll be a while before he''s discharged, but we were lucky this time." Albert exhaled sharply, though relief barely softened his features. "Go back down there," he said briskly. "Tell them to restrain him. Watch that wound closely. If anything changes, you report to me immediately. Understood?" Robert hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Sir, with all due respect, he''s in no condition to ''try anything! When we brought him in, he was hanging by a thread." Albert''s eyes flashed, his voice hardening. "Trust me. Once he wakes up, he''ll try again." Robert lingered in the doorway, uncertainty flickering across his face. Finally, he ventured, "Sir, what''s really going on? What happened with Edwin in¡ª¡° "That''s enough," Albert snapped, cutting him off. His tone brooked no argument. "What they''re saying doesn''t concern you. Your job is to follow my orders. Nothing more. A tense silence followed before Robert nodded curtly. "Yes, sir." The door clicked shut behind him, and the silence that followed felt heavier, suffocating. Albert leaned back in his chair, staring at the desk as though he could will away the chaos surrounding him. For a moment, he simply stared at the desk, at the broken shards of his resolve. Then, with a sharp motion, he flipped open his laptop. The screen illuminated the dim room, its cold blue glow casting sharp shadows across his face. An image filled the display: a crystalline structure, deep blue and unnervingly vibrant. It was housed behind reinforced glass, surrounded by a maze of wires, monitors, and machines that hummed with latent energy. The crystal seemed almost alive, its faint pulse mocking him. Albert''s expression twisted into something dark-disgust, regret, anger all colling together like a venomous knot. His hands balled into fists as he stared at the screen. "I should''ve been more careful," he muttered, his voice low and bitter. "I should''ve locked you away with everything else. Then I wouldn¡¯t have lost you." The frustration boiled over, and his fist slammed against the desk. One of the empty mugs toppled to the floor, shattering with a piercing crack that echoed through the sterile room. Albert barely glanced at the broken pieces, his focus still fixed on the screen, on the crystal that had upended his life. His shoulders sagged, his head bowing as though the weight of his own thoughts might crush him. "If only I could go back," he whispered, the words heavy with anguish and the crushing weight of hindsight. The crystal continued to glow, cold and unfeeling, as though indifferent to the chaos it had wrought. In its reflection, Albert''s face looked drawn and hollow, a man teetering on the edge of his own unraveling. ¡°I hope you can handle what is to come my son. This time, you will be pushed far beyond your limits.¡± Albert bursted out laughing maniacally. Chapter 7: A Fractured Connection The elevator door opened with a hiss. Robert exited slumped over feeling mentally exhausted. It was hard being the grounded one between his peers. He always took it upon himself to keep those around him in high spirits. Robert picked up his pace and entered the Infirmary. He went towards the nearest Operating Room where James stood guard. Only James remained as someone he couldn¡¯t read. He always managed to keep himself closed off and separated from their peers. ¡°Here goes nothing.¡± The hallway outside the infirmary was dimly lit, the sterile white walls casting cold shadows. James stood by the door, his fingers tapping anxiously against his thigh. "I''m back," Robert said quietly. "Albert gave us orders." "Orders?" James asked, frowning. "What did he say?" Robert glanced around, as if ensuring no one else was listening. He exhaled sharply. "We''re to keep a close watch on Edwin. Stay on guard. And¡ª" he hesitated, jaw tightening-"strap him down." James processed the words in silence before giving a curt nod. "The nurse we dealt with earlier is off shift. Doctor Cenilera''s inside with him." Robert rubbed his temples. "I''ll handle it. I¡¯d like to avoid any more stress." The infirmary was quiet-too quiet. The soft hum of machines and the steady rhythm of Edwin''s heartbeat filled the room, an eerie lull that settled like dust. Doctor Cenilera stood beside the bed, adjusting the IV drip, though her mind was clearly elsewhere. A weight lingered in her gaze, as if she carried questions she dared not voice. Across from her, Nurse Aninlie replaced the saline bag, her movements careful, almost hesitant. Doctor Cenilera glanced over at Aninlie, she could feel the tension dragging them down. Cenilera sighed. "Monitor him closely tonight," she said softly. "Any change, no matter how small, I need to know." Aninlie nodded, though the tension in her shoulders suggested she shared Cenilera''s unease. Something about this boy¡ªhis condition, his resilience-felt... unnatural. Before she could say anything else, the door to the infirmary slid open. Robert entered the room, his face more serious than, but something was different. He looked uneasy, as if the weight of Albert''s orders had finally begun to sink in. "Doctor," he said, voice quieter than before. "Councilor Albert wants Edwin restrained. As a precaution." Cenilera felt a cold wave of dread wash over her. She looked from Edwin to Robert, then back to the unconscious boy on the bed. Restraining him? The boy was barely hanging onto life, and Albert still feared him enough to request restraints? "Is that really necessary?" she asked, keeping her voice measured. "He''s stable. Restraints could stress his body further." Robert hesitated. "Albert''s orders," he said, though there was something hollow in his tone. "He says Edwin might-" "He might what?" Cenilera pressed, her eyes now glued to Edwin. Robert exhaled, running a hand over his face. "I don''t know. But we both know Albert doesn''t make requests. He makes demands." Cenilera''s jaw tightened, but she nodded. "Fine." Robert inclined his head in thanks. "We''ll take it from here." He turned to leave, murmuring a quiet thanks to Aninlie as he exited. The door shut behind him, leaving only the hum of machines and the weight of what had just transpired. Cenilera released a slow, measured breath. She gestured to Aninlie. "Get the restraints."The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Aninlie hesitated, then walked to the supply closet. The soft clink of buckles echoed in the room as she retrieved a pair of thick leather restraints, her hands trembling slightly as she handed them over. Cenilera secured Edwin''s wrists and ankles to the bedframe, fastening the straps with careful precision. She cast one last glance at his still face, her mind swirling with doubt. She studied him carefully. Despite his injuries, his breathing was even, his skin smooth. Too smooth. A flicker of curiosity stirred within her. Slowly, she reached down and peeled back the bandages covering his abdomen. Her breath caught in her throat. The wound-stitched across his stomach just hours ago-was gone. No scar. No trace of an injury. His skin was unmarked, untouched, as if he had never been harmed at all. Her pulse quickened. This isn¡¯t possible. "What the..." she whispered. Disbelief coiled in her gut. With a trembling hand, she grabbed her pager. "This is Doctor Cenilera. I need the X-ray room prepped for a patient." The response crackled through: Twenty minutes. Her grip tightened around the device. Twenty minutes. She just needed to wait. But as she reached for Edwin''s IV to prepare him for transport, something happened that stopped her cold. The Iv on Edwin¡¯s hand had been removed and was lying next to him on the bed. She quickly looked at where it had been. The puncture was nowhere to be seen. No mark. No trace. Cenilera''s heart pounded against her ribs. Her breath came in shallow gasps. No. No, this isn''t¡­ She clenched her fists. "Albert... what did you do?" Driven by disbelief, she grabbed another needle. With deliberate caution, she pressed the tip against Edwin''s forearm. Just a small prick. Just to see¡ª His eyes shot open. A strangled gasp tore from her throat as Edwin surged upright, his chest heaving, his wide, furious gaze locking onto hers. He was awake¡ª he was angry. ¡ª¡ª¡ª///////¡ª¡ª¡ª I awoke to the sharp sting of something piercing my arm. My entire body surged with overwhelming rage that pulsed through me. I shot upright, adrenaline coursing through my veins. My heart pounded, my breath came in shallow gasps, and everything felt sharper-more vivid. I turned to my right and froze for a moment, my eyes locking onto a woman standing next to the bed. She looked startled, her expression one of surprise and concern. She had thick, dark curls that tumbled past her shoulders, framing her face. Her round glasses sat perched on a small, delicate nose, the frames slightly crooked from her hurried movements. But it was her eyes that stood out most-a warm, deep hazel that shimmered with emotion. Something about those eyes made me hesitate, just for a second. She had a softness to her, a natural kindness etched into her features, but there was also a tension, like she was holding something back. She wore a white coat, her hands trembling ever so slightly as she took a step back from me. "I don''t know who you are," I growled, my voice colder than I expected. "But get away from me." She flinched, her face tightening as if my words had struck her physically. Her lips parted, but nothing came out at first. Then, she spoke, in a whisper thick with emotion, she cautiously stepped away from me toward the door. "Edwin? It''s me, Lilith. Lilith Cenilera. Your big sis." She said thick with emotion. I didn''t respond. Her eyes searched mine, pleading, desperate for any flicker of recognition. My sister? The word felt hollow in my mind, foreign. I stared at her, waiting for something-some echo of familiarity-to rise in me. But there was nothing. Just silence. Just emptiness. And yet... she stood there, her expression unraveling with each passing second, as if the lack of recognition was slowly breaking her apart. Yet I didn''t know this woman. A strange heavy feeling washed over me, none of it made sense. Everything about this situation felt wrong-off in a way I couldn''t explain. The room, the machines, and her-this supposed sister, watching me like she expected something from me. But I had nothing to give her. It doesn¡¯t make sense. "I took care of you when you were little. I read books to you when you were sick. Don''t you remember?" Her voice was soft, trembling slightly as if she hoped my silence would suddenly crack and open some vault of lost memories. She sounded so sure, so hopeful. But the memories she spoke of weren''t there. I clenched my jaw, my voice coming out cold and sharp. "No. I don''t." Her eyes flickered, almost as if she expected a different response. The words landed between us like heavy stones. ¡°Where am I?¡± Her face faltered, pain flickering across her features before she whispered, "You''re in the infirmary... Level 3." Level 3? The words sent a ripple of unease through me. Why does that feel important? The frustration coiled tight in my chest, clawing at the edges of my mind. Nothing about this felt real-like I was trapped in someone else''s nightmare. This is probably another one of Albert¡¯s tricks. He¡¯s probably trying to get to me. The thought struck hard and fast, igniting a fire inside me. The walls closed in, the machines hummed louder, and suddenly, I couldn''t breathe. My pulse pounded in my ears, my muscles coiling with a rage that burned white-hot. A wild snarl tore from my throat as I wrenched against the restraints. My arms swung as far as they could, knocking over the medical equipment with a satisfying crash. The air filled with the sound of breaking glass, though it did nothing to ease the pressure in my chest. My heart raced faster, and before I could stop myself, I roared at her, my voice filled with an anger I couldn''t explain. "I''m done with your tests! Let me go!" The words erupted from me, full of fury and desperation. The restraints might have limited my movement, but my voice was raw, powerful, reverberating in the small room. Lilith flinched, but I barely saw her anymore. My vision blurred at the edges, dark and suffocating. Before she could respond, the door behind her slammed open. The impact sent her sprawling to the floor. Her pager skidded across the tile, disappearing beneath the bed. I didn''t wait. The moment she was down, I ripped free from the restraints. Pain tore through my muscles, but I didn''t care. The fire in my veins burned too hot, too fierce. My feet hit the floor, and I lunged toward the door- ¡°No you¡¯re not!¡± Roared Robert. A flurry of movement-shouts-small explosions-shadows closing in-sharp stings piercing my skin. I staggered, my vision lurching sideways. The world tilted, the walls melting into a blur of colors and noise. Lilith''s face swam before me, her lips parted in disbelief, where I had fallen. I wanted to keep fighting. I had to keep fighting. Yet the darkness was faster and consumed me quickly. Chapter 8: A Silent Risk Worth Taking "That was close," Robert muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. "The kid''s got fight in him." "Next time, doc, let us know when he wakes up." James grumbled, though there was no real malice in his voice. Robert worked quickly, securing Edwin¡¯s wrists and ankles with fresh restraints. The leather straps creaked as he pulled them taut against the metal frame. Doctor Cenilera stood motionless, still absorbing the chaos that had just unfolded. ¡°He woke up so suddenly,¡± she murmured, her voice brittle. ¡°I didn¡¯t have time to react.¡± Robert barely spared her a glance as he double-checked the locks. ¡°Albert says he¡¯s been¡­ aggressive lately,¡± he replied, his tone stiff, almost mechanical. Cenilera¡¯s hands trembled at her sides. She wasn¡¯t looking at Robert. Her gaze remained fixed on Edwin, her breath shallow, her body rigid as if afraid to move. Her heart pounded against her ribs as she watched. The tranquilizer darts were being pushed out of Edwin¡¯s skin, rolling off his body like discarded husks. The puncture wounds sealed up, smooth and unblemished, as though they had never existed. Robert followed her gaze, his hands freezing mid-motion. His throat tightened. ¡°What the hell¡­?¡± Even before the syringes reached his skin, the bruises and needle marks from their previous tests had begun to vanish, tissue regenerating with impossible speed. The flesh knitted itself back together in mere seconds. Cenilera took a slow step back, shaking her head in quiet horror. ¡°What happened to him?¡± she whispered. James snorted from his post near the door, though his bravado faltered. ¡°He¡¯s breathing, has a pulse, and talks like a human. What does the extra stuff matter if he¡¯s the key to survival?¡± Robert turned sharply. ¡°James, that¡¯s enough.¡± Cenilera¡¯s throat tightened. Her mind raced, drowning in questions with no answers. ¡°There¡¯s something deeply wrong,¡± she murmured, her voice cracking. ¡°He¡¯s no longer¡­ human.¡± The room grew heavier, suffocating in its silence. The sterile air felt thick, pressing down on them like an unseen weight. The beep of the monitors was the only sound, a rhythmic reminder that Edwin¡ªwhatever he had become¡ªwas still alive. Cenilera hovered near the bedside, unable to tear her eyes away from him. Robert leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. James paced restlessly, his boots striking the cold floor with each sharp step. James¡¯ gaze flicked between them, weighing unspoken thoughts before he finally broke the silence. ¡°Look,¡± he said, voice tight. ¡°I don¡¯t work for Councilor Albert because I want to, and I sure as hell don¡¯t ask questions I don¡¯t want the answers to. We¡¯re guards, not his confidants. All I know is that if we don¡¯t do our jobs¡­ there¡¯s a much worse fate waiting for us.¡± His words came quickly, as if trying to end the conversation before it could begin. Cenilera¡¯s hands curled into fists. ¡°And Edwin? What about him?¡± Her voice wavered between fear and fury. James met her gaze with a fierce expression. ¡°That¡¯s none of our business. There is no cure without him.¡± The finality in his tone brooked no argument. He cast one last look at Edwin¡ªhis face unreadable¡ªbefore turning on his heel and striding toward the door. ¡°I¡¯m going to report this to Albert. Just do your job, Doctor.¡± He sneered as the steel panel slid open with a sharp hiss, then sealed shut behind him¡ª leaving behind only the lingering echo of his departure. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. The silence that followed was suffocating, thick with unspoken horrors. The only sound was the quiet hum of the machinery, a dull, ceaseless reminder of the sterile, lifeless place they stood in. Cenilera¡¯s gaze softened as it landed on Edwin¡¯s frail, motionless form. His wrists, raw and bruised from restraints, twitched slightly in his sleep. He looked so small, so breakable. "It wasn¡¯t always like this," she murmured, the words barely more than breath. "We were so close once. He used to follow me everywhere, like a little shadow. He even called me his big sister. And now¡­" Her voice cracked, unable to finish the sentence. The grief was too sharp, too deep. Robert¡¯s expression wavered, sympathy creeping into his hardened features. "What happened?" Cenilera¡¯s hands curled into fists at her sides. Her mind drifted back to those earlier days¡ªwhen Edwin had been a boy with bright eyes and endless questions, clinging to her as if she were his anchor. "When he was seven, Albert started pulling him out of my lessons. Said he needed him for something... something only Edwin could do. After that, I barely saw him. And now, he doesn¡¯t even remember who I am." Robert exhaled sharply, glancing at Edwin¡¯s still form. "Yesterday, Sanchez and I were sent to Councilor Albert¡¯s private lab." He hesitated. "Sanchez... he recognized a machine. Something meant for electrotherapy, but¡ª" His brow furrowed, his voice lowering, "¡ªit could also be used for torture." The word hung between them like a curse. Cenilera¡¯s stomach twisted violently. She swayed slightly, feeling as if the air had been knocked from her lungs. "Torture?" she echoed, her voice hoarse. "Albert¡ªAlbert is doing this to his own son?" Robert looked away, shame flickering across his face. "I don¡¯t know all the details, but yeah¡­ I think it¡¯s worse than anyone realizes. I¡¯ve seen the machine. It¡¯s massive." A tremor ran through Cenilera¡¯s hands as she brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She turned back to Edwin, her heart pounding against her ribs. His chest rose and fell in slow, shallow breaths, but his face was devoid of peace. He had spent too long in this nightmare. Robert shook his head as if trying to dispel the weight of his own words. "I don¡¯t know what¡¯s worse," he admitted finally. "Albert¡¯s experiments¡­ or the fact that no one ever gave Edwin a reason to trust us. All we ever did was deliver him to his father. No one questioned why he was sent to the lab every day. No one asked why he looks like this. The only answer we¡¯ve ever been given is that it¡¯s ¡®for the sake of humanity.¡¯" Cenilera let out a slow, shaking breath. Her fingers curled around the bed¡¯s metal railing. "I don¡¯t want to send him back," she said, her voice suddenly firm, resolute. "I want to set him free." Robert blinked, taken aback. "You¡¯re serious?" Her eyes met his with unwavering intensity. "Dead serious." Robert straightened, his expression darkening. "That¡¯s rebellion, Cenilera. You know that, right?" "I don¡¯t care what it is." She turned to face him fully now, her jaw set. "Edwin deserves a real chance¡ªa life that isn¡¯t being stolen from him." For a moment, Robert was silent. The weight of her words settled between them like a stone. Then, finally, he gave the smallest nod. "If we do this¡­ there¡¯s no turning back." Cenilera¡¯s pulse quickened. "Are you saying you¡¯re willing to risk it? Because this isn¡¯t just about losing your job, Robert. If we get caught¡ª" "I know," he interrupted. He took a deep breath, as if testing the words before committing to them. "There¡¯s a way out. But it¡¯ll be risky. We¡¯ll need to move fast, and someone will have to stay behind. To throw them off. I¡¯ll make sure they don¡¯t follow you." Cenilera¡¯s brow furrowed. "What?" Robert glanced at the door, then back at her. "There¡¯s an emergency tunnel on the fourth level. It¡¯s not heavily guarded. We can use it to get Edwin out.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°The moment they realize he¡¯s missing, the whole compound will go into lockdown. If I¡¯m still here, I¡¯ll be able to steer them away from you¡ªat least for a little while." Cenilera shook her head, her heart twisting. "I can¡¯t leave you behind! Anything could go wrong after we exit the tunnel. We¡¯d still have to use one of the inner wall gates to reach Midfallen." "It¡¯s alright," Robert said quietly. "Albert¡¯s first priority will be sealing the compound. By the time he realizes Edwin is already outside the perimeter, you¡¯ll be long gone. This is our only chance." She stared at him, barely able to comprehend the sacrifice he was willing to make. "You¡¯re willing to do this? You¡¯d stay behind for Edwin?" Robert met her gaze, and for the first time, she saw the depth of his conviction. "I hate what this place has become," he said. "I¡¯m just a guard. But I can¡¯t stand by and watch anymore. If I can help you get him out of here, then it¡¯s a step forward.¡± Cenilera¡¯s throat tightened. She searched his face, looking for hesitation, doubt¡ªanything that would let her convince him otherwise. But there was nothing. Only quiet resolve. "You don¡¯t have to do this," she whispered. "You could come with us." Robert gave her a faint smile. "Maybe. But someone has to stay and I¡¯ve made my choice." Tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Instead, she placed a hand on his shoulder, her gratitude unspoken but deeply felt. "Thank you, Robert," she whispered. "I won¡¯t give up until we find a way for all of us to make it out." He nodded, taking a steadying breath. "Then we¡¯d better move before James gets back." The hospital was unnervingly quiet, like the moment before a storm breaks. Deep in its cold, sterile belly, Robert stood at the foot of Edwin''s bed, the dim lights casting long shadows that danced in the tension-filled room. Doctor Cenilera paced, her thoughts racing as her gaze flicked between Edwin''s lifeless form and the door. The escape they had planned now felt impossibly far. Robert''s voice, low and gruff, cut through the silence like a blade. "We''ve got to wake him up. He can''t stay like this, not if we''re going to get out without raising the alarm." He ran a hand through his short-cropped hair, eyes fixed on the boy. ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s wake up the little beast.¡± Chapter 9: The Brewing Storm The room was cloaked in shadow, the only light a dim, flickering lamp casting jagged silhouettes across the cluttered desk. Albert sat hunched over, his fingers stained with ink, scrawling feverishly across the mess of papers strewn before him. His hands trembled-not with exhaustion, but exhilaration. The breakthrough was here. The answer had been buried in failure after failure, test after test, but now it had clawed its way into the light. ¡°Electricity.¡± He had seen it with his own eyes-Edwin''s blood had reacted to the current, pulsing like a living entity, glowing with an unnatural radiance. The implications rattled in his skull like an untamed storm. Albert pushed back from the desk and rose, striding toward the massive glass windows that loomed over the sleeping city. Dawn bled across the horizon in delicate strokes of violet and gold, the sky still heavy with the weight of night. He exhaled, his breath fogging the cold glass as his reflection stared back at him-gaunt, unblinking, feverish with revelation. "Electricity," he whispered, tasting the word like a forbidden secret. A slow, triumphant smile curled his lips. "I just need the correct voltage. That''s the key. The cure is in the blood, and electricity is what unlocks it. If I can extract it... mass produce it..." He let out a shuddering breath. "This silent, decade-long war will finally be over." His fingers twitched at his sides. His heart pounded with the weight of possibility. But the voice in the back of his mind was insidious. Although it might kill him... Albert pressed a hand against the glass, his nails scraping faintly against its smooth surface. That''s the price of progress. He turned sharply, striding back across the room, his thoughts racing ahead of him. This was it¡ª the moment that would cement everything he had sacrificed. Years of relentless work, of buried guilt, of nights spent drowning in calculations and sleepless delirium, were finally about to bear fruit. The disease that had ravaged humanity, stolen millions, shattered civilizations-it could end. It would all be worth it. And all it took was a single life. He grabbed the phone and punched in a number, the sharp beeping of the line filling the silence. The moment the nurse picked up, he didn''t wait for pleasantries. "Bring my son to the Second Level," he ordered, his voice clipped, urgent. "I don''t care if he''s unconscious-just get him up here." A pause. The hesitation was barely there, but he heard it. "But sir, he''s... he doesn''t seem in any condition _" "No prep needed," Albert snapped, his fingers tightening around the receiver. "Just make sure he''s strapped down. I don''t have time for this." The words left him in a rush of finality. His jaw locked as he slammed the phone down. The weight of the decision settled over him like a phantom. Albert ran a hand down his face, the bitter taste of old coffee clinging to his tongue. He reached for his fourth mug of the night, swallowing the remnants of his exhaustion. His fingers curled around the ceramic, knuckles white. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. "Time is of the essence," he muttered to himself, his voice hoarse. His gaze drifted back to the horizon. "I cannot wait any longer." And with that, he turned away from the dawn, stepping back into the darkness. ¡ª¡ª¡ª////////¡ª¡ª¡ª For a moment, the world seemed to pause. The cold sterility of the hospital, the soft hum of machinery, the distant shuffle of footsteps¡ª none of it mattered as their eyes met. In that brief exchange, no words were needed. A silent promise passed between them. There was no turning back. Then¡ª "Wait!" Cenilera whispered sharply. "Don''t you think we need a better plan? This is too sudden." Robert''s expression remained unchanged, his jaw tight. "We may never get another opportunity. This is the only option." Silence settled between them, thick with unspoken fears. Doctor Cenilera inhaled deeply, steadying herself. The weight of hesitation lifted from her shoulders. There was no more time for doubt. This could possibly be the best and only chance they had. Doctor Cenilera was the first to break the tension, her voice steadier now, the weight of hesitation finally lifting. "I think I can buy us more time." She snatched the clipboard from the foot of Edwin''s bed, her hand moving in quick, deliberate strokes. Her pulse thrummed in her ears as she scribbled the words that could make the difference between escape and failure. Then she stepped back, scanning her work. "There." Her voice was quieter now, yet firm. "This should throw them off. Buy us a few extra minutes, at least." Robert''s lips curled into a faint, approving smirk. "Good. Now let''s move. We''ve wasted enough time already." He turned to Edwin, gently shaking the boy''s shoulder. "Hey, time to wake up." No Response. Robert tried again, his voice firmer this time. Still, Edwin remained motionless, his breathing deep, oblivious to the urgency pressing in around them. Cenilera''s brows furrowed as she folded her arms. "You hit him with too many tranquilizers," she muttered. "He''s not waking up anytime soon. It''s best to just carry him." Robert exhaled sharply but wasted no time. With calculated precision, he scooped Edwin into his arms, supporting his limp frame as if handling something fragile. They stepped into the corridor, their movements measured, their pace controlled-just another routine transport, nothing unusual. But every step felt like a gamble. Nurses at their stations remained fixated on their screens, the dim glow reflecting in their tired eyes. None of them so much as glanced up. For now, they were invisible. But they wouldn''t stay that way for long. The clock was ticking. Cenilera leaned in, her whisper barely audible over the hum of the hospital. "Are you sure about the elevator? You''ll need to scan your security card to go down to the Fourth Level. Albert-he keeps logs. Every scan, every trip¡ª it''ll show up. He''ll know." Robert stiffened. Why hadn''t he thought of that? "What''s your suggestion?" "The stairs," she said, voice firm. "We wake Edwin up on the way down. He needs to know what''s happening before it''s too late. If he wakes up at the wrong time and doesn''t know where he is¡ª" Robert''s jaw tightened. "You''re right. We can''t have him panicking with anyone around. Lead the way." They pivoted sharply toward the stairwell, but just as they neared the doors, a figure stepped around the corner. A doctor. His gaze swept over them, pausing-lingering too long. "Taking him to X-ray," she said quickly, her voice eerily calm. Cenilera''s pulse pounded in her ears. A beat of silence. Then the doctor blinked, gave a curt nod, and continued on his way. The moment his footsteps faded, Cenilera let out a breath she hadn''t realized she was holding. "I can''t believe that worked." "We''re heading the wrong way too," Robert muttered. "Just be glad it did," she shot back. But worry gnawed at her. Edwin was too well-known here. They wouldn''t be able to keep walking through these halls unnoticed. "Robert," she whispered. "We can''t just carry him down the stairs like this. Everyone here knows him. Someone''s bound to stop us." Robert exhaled sharply, weighing their options. "We don''t have time to change him now. Once this floor goes into lockdown, they''ll be looking for anyone in a doctor''s coat or scrubs. Our best shot is to get him into a guard''s uniform. And those are on the Fourth Level." Cenilera didn''t hesitate. She shrugged off her white coat, thrusting it toward him. "It''s not much, but it''ll help cover him for now." Robert adjusted Edwin in his arms, lowering him just enough for Cenilera to drape the coat over him, tucking it around his face. It was a poor disguise, but it was better than nothing. Without another word, they slipped through the stairwell door. The walls were bare concrete, the air thick with dust and stale disinfectant. Each step echoed ominously, a rhythmic drumbeat of urgency. Downward they went, the weight of time pressing against them, knowing that with every level they passed, the walls of the hospital were closing in. Somewhere above them, alarms would soon sound. And then, truly, there would be no turning back. Chapter 10: Something Beyond Control Thud! Thud! James stormed into Edwin''s room, his heavy boots striking the tile with sharp, deliberate force. His gaze swept over the pristine bed - neatly tucked, untouched, as if the boy had never been there at all. His stomach tightened. "What the hell..." His hand shot out, snatching the clipboard from the foot of the bed. His eyes scanned the note scrawled in Doctor Cenilera''s hurried handwriting. X-ray room. James'' lips curled in a snarl. "Robert, you bastard. You could''ve updated me." He exhaled sharply, gripping the clipboard until his knuckles turned white. "Maybe I shouldn''t have said I was going to Albert. Should''ve stayed and sent Robert." Spinning on his heel, he stalked toward the X-ray room, his frustration mounting¡ª behind him, a pager buzzed under Edwin¡¯s bed. ¡°I¡¯m here at the X-Ray room, where are you Doctor?¡± Halfway to the X-Ray room, the alarms ripped through the third level without warning. A metallic wail, piercing and deafening. Red emergency lights flared to life, flashing along the corridor in a sinister, pulsing rhythm. The sterile white walls were suddenly bathed in blood-red. James cursed under his breath. ¡°Damn it, this better not have anything to do with Edwin.¡± Around the corner, a blur of movement-Nurse Judy, her face pale, hands trembling. He grabbed her by the arm, yanking her to a halt. "What''s the emergency?" His voice was sharp, commanding. Her wide eyes darted to his. "He''s gone," she gasped. James'' fingers tightened around her wrist. "Who''s gone?" "Councilor Albert ordered me to bring him up," she stammered, "but he''s gone! I-I tried paging Doctor Cenilera, but she wouldn''t answer. I checked the X-ray room¡ªit was empty! I think something happened to her!" James'' jaw clenched. This was spiraling fast. "Set off all the alarms for every level," he barked. "Call Albert. Lock this place down-no one moves between levels except me. Got it?" She nodded frantically and took off down the corridor. James watched her go, his gut twisting. "Damn it, Robert," he muttered. "You had one job. Don''t tell me that kid overpowered you." He turned on his heel, striding toward the elevator. The moment he reached it, he slammed his palm against the button to descend. Nothing happened. James'' eye twitched. "Goddamnit!" he growled, his voice low but furious. "Why the hell is this stupid elevator not working!?" "Are you fucking kidding me!?" His fist collided with the cold steel doors, sending a metallic clang echoing through the hall. A passing doctor flinched at the sound, his gaze flicking toward James, then quickly away as if burned. For a second, their eyes met. James'' glare was ice-cold, daring him to say something. The doctor swallowed, tugging at his ID card in a nervous tic before scurrying down the corridor, head lowered like a chastised child. James huffed, glancing down at his own ID, strapped securely to his belt. He cursed under his breath. "Now I look like a dumbass." His jaw tightened, the frustration boiling in his veins. Grinding his teeth, he swiped his card against the reader. The soft beep was almost mocking. With a groan, the elevator doors finally slid open, revealing the dimly lit chamber inside. "Aaahh!" He stepped in, jabbing the button for the Fourth Level. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The doors sealed shut. The hum of descent filled the cramped space, the scent of metal and stagnant air thick around him. James exhaled slowly, his fingers drumming against the elevator''s steel panel. If Robert had helped Edwin... everything was about to fall apart. Above, the alarms shrieked louder. Red lights flashed in rhythmic panic. ¡ª¡ª¡ª///////¡ª¡ª¡ª Albert stood alone in the dim glow of his office, his gaze drifting over the walls lined with charts, notes, and schematics. Each one was a fragment of his legacy, a testament to his relentless pursuit of control. The space around him was more than an office¡ªit was a monument to his ambition, to the quiet madness that had driven him forward. The first rays of morning seeped through the window, casting the room in an ethereal glow, momentarily breathing life into a place that had long since been devoid of it. "So much has changed," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the hum of the machinery that pulsed softly around him. His mind churned through the past, tracing the precise steps that had led him here. "I built the Council¡­ raised the first wall¡­ turned Nora Corp into something far greater than it was ever meant to be." His fingers ghosted over the edge of his desk, his touch lingering as if the wood itself held the weight of his accomplishments. "All in the span of a decade." He moved then, pacing behind his desk with the slow, measured steps of a man who knew that every detail of his world had been crafted by his own hands. There was confidence in the way he carried himself¡ªassurance in the knowledge that he alone held the reins of power. But his thoughts turned inward, twisting into something darker. "Edwin." The name fell from his lips, heavy with a mixture of possession and something almost akin to nostalgia. His grip tightened on the back of his chair. "Almost sixteen now. You think you can escape, don¡¯t you?" A slow, humorless smile curled his lips, though there was no warmth in it¡ªonly certainty. "You won¡¯t." His voice was low, edged with the steel of a man who had foreseen every move, every desperate attempt at freedom. "I¡¯ve been preparing for this. For you. Every step you take, I will anticipate. Every breath you draw, I will know. You are not beyond my reach. You never have been." The air in the room thickened, as though the walls themselves absorbed his quiet promise. And then, the alarms began. A distant wail at first, growing louder, sharper, until it clawed through the silence like a siren of war. He barely flinched. The game had begun. But in Albert¡¯s mind, the outcome had already been decided. The office door burst open, slamming against the wall with a force that sent a tremor through the floor. A squad of guards stormed inside, weapons drawn, eyes scanning the room with razor-sharp focus. They moved swiftly, positioning themselves at doors and windows, bodies coiled with tension. Albert remained still, though his fingers twitched, betraying the first stirrings of unease. His voice, when it came, was sharp, edged with something that could have been anger¡ªor the faintest trace of fear. "What the fuck is going on?" The words cracked like a whip through the room. "Who authorized this?" No one spoke. His heartbeat quickened, a discordant rhythm against the wail of the alarms. The guards were trained to follow protocol, to act only under his direct command unless¡ª Unless there was something beyond his control. A possibility he had never accounted for. "Someone give me a report!" His voice rose, authority laced with something dangerously close to panic. "Now!" One of the guards, Sanchez, stepped forward, his stance rigid, his expression grim. "We aren¡¯t sure, sir. No radio calls. No breach confirmed. We¡¯re following emergency protocol in case this is¡­ the special threat." Albert''s blood ran cold. The words sank deep, twisting in his chest like a blade. The special threat. The only force he had ever truly feared. Ramiro. For the first time in years, a bead of sweat slipped down his temple. His breath came slow and deliberate as he reached for the phone on his desk, but before he could lift it¡ª It rang. A sharp, shrill chime that cut through the room like a gunshot. Sanchez stiffened. The other guards shifted uneasily, their hands gripping their weapons just a little tighter. The alarms wailed, the phone continued its relentless ringing, and for the first time in a decade, Albert hesitated. He didn¡¯t want to answer it. But he had no choice. For the first time in years, a thin sheen of sweat clung to Albert''s skin. It glistened under the sterile office lights, a quiet testament to something he would never admit aloud. The phone''s shrill, relentless ringing sliced through the air-each tone a death knell, tolling for something he could not yet name. Sanchez stole a glance at him, his expression tense. "Sir... shouldn''t you answer that?" But he couldn''t move. His hand hovered above the receiver, fingers rigid, as if held in place by an unseen force. The sound was unbearable now, reverberating through his skull, filling every crevice of his mind with a gnawing sense of inevitability. He had always prided himself on control-on knowing the shape of things before they happened. And yet, something about this moment felt... wrong. Sanchez shifted beside him. The hesitation was brief, but Albert caught it. The younger man took a step forward, his stance straightening, voice steady despite the tension in his jaw. "Would you like me to answer it, sir?" Albert exhaled slowly. He nodded once. "Yes... go ahead. Tell me what they say." Sanchez reached for the phone, his fingers brushing against the receiver with the kind of caution reserved for something volatile. Something that could detonate. He lifted it to his ear, his posture rigid, disciplined-until it wasn''t. The room fell deathly silent, the shrill wail of the alarms seeming distant now, overtaken by the pounding in Albert''s ears. Albert watched, unblinking, as the transformation unfolded before him. The color drained from Sanchez''s face, bleeding out inch by inch, leaving behind only stark, frozen dread. His grip on the phone slackened, his knuckles paling as though the very words spoken to him carried a weight too heavy to bear. His eyes-once sharp, once unwavering-flickered with something else now. Finally, Sanchez lowered the phone. His hand hovered for a moment, as if reluctant to let go, as if by holding it, he could somehow change the truth of what had just been relayed to him. His once steely gaze, sharp with discipline, had now dulled-widened with fear. Albert''s breath slowed. His entire being coiled, taut with expectation, with a silent demand. Say it. But Sanchez didn''t speak. Not at first. He just stood there, caught between the moment before the world changed and the moment after. Then, finally- "Sir." The word barely left his lips, a whisper of something fragile. "It''s your son..." A pause. Then, quieter, almost reverent in its horror, ¡°He''s escaped the infirmary." For a moment, the words did not register. They hung in the air, thick and cloying, like smoke curling through a collapsing building. A slow, creeping sensation slithered through Albert''s chest, wrapping around his ribs, pressing in. Albert let out a sound-low, humorless. A chuckle. But there was nothing warm in it, nothing human. It was the kind of laugh that teetered at the edge of something else. Something jagged. Something unraveling. It was the kind of laugh that was on the edge of hysteria. He stopped himself, the sound dying abruptly as he straightened, smoothing his coat with a deliberate calm. He straightened. Smoothed the front of his coat. When he finally looked up, his gaze was nothing but cold calculation-razor-sharp, stripped of hesitation, of doubt, of anything other than certainty. His eyes, cold and calculating, shifted toward the guards who stood frozen, waiting. "Men," Albert murmured, his voice light, almost casual, as if the world hadn''t just begun to fracture around him. "I''m heading out for a stroll." No one spoke. No one dared to. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode toward the door. The guards hesitated-only for a breath-before moving in step behind him, their boots striking the floor in rhythmic unison. The alarms still howled in the distance, a frenzied symphony of disorder, but Albert walked with purpose, his pace steady. Controlled. Inside, however, something dark coiled in the pit of his stomach. Now it was only a matter of how far the boy thought he could go-before Albert brought him back. Chapter 11: Chasing Shadows Albert''s footsteps echoed down the long corridor, each step deliberate, unwavering. The sterile white walls swallowed the sound, yet his presence carried far beyond the reach of his shadow. Overhead, the flickering lights pulsed in erratic intervals, casting fractured silhouettes along the floor. Those who crossed his path stilled, hushed whispers trailing in his wake. Albert rarely left his office, and when he did, unease followed him like a specter. Tonight, that unease rippled outward, a silent warning carried by the air itself. He reached the front desk, where the receptionist stiffened, eyes widening as though caught in the act of breathing too loudly. Albert paid her no mind. There was no need for pleasantries. A guard by the entrance jolted to attention, his movements sharp with urgency as he rushed to open the door. The cold night air struck Albert as he stepped outside, but he barely registered it. The city stretched before him, swallowed in eerie silence. The streets lay deserted, the skeletal structures of homes looming like abandoned husks, their windows hollowed out by the dim, dying glow of streetlights. ¡°Thanks,¡± Albert muttered absently, already striding toward the nearest gate post, his coat billowing slightly in the crisp night breeze. There was no time to waste. As he reached the gate, the guards stationed there snapped to attention, their spines stiffening beneath the weight of his gaze. He scanned their faces, his expression void of anything but cold calculation. These were men who had seen violence, who had stood in the face of chaos. But none of them had ever hunted something like Edwin. "Listen well," Albert began, his voice smooth, measured, laced with something sharper than steel. "I want every post on lockdown-all of them except for this one." He extended a gloved hand, gesturing toward the gate before them. His eyes darkened, a storm brewing beneath their surface. "We''ll guard the others heavily, and force him to come here. And when he does, be ready. He knows how to fight." A pause. Then, colder: "So gear up, men." The guards exchanged glances, their nods quick and firm. Abri, the youngest among them, straightened, the tight coil of tension in his shoulders loosening at the clarity of the orders. "Right away, sir!" His voice rang sharp in the still air, and within seconds, the others moved, their radios crackling to life as commands passed through the network like wildfire. The atmosphere shifted, no longer waiting-only acting. Albert stood unmoving, watching as the facility coiled into action around him. His jaw tightened. His son had always been defiant. Always convinced he could outrun the inevitable. But Albert had been waiting for this moment for years. ¡°Whoever catches him will be rewarded,¡± he called out, his voice slicing through the chaos like a blade. Heads turned. The air itself seemed to still. ¡°I want him back¡ªwith no more than two bullets in his legs and one in his lower spine.¡± Apstra, the senior guard, squared his shoulders, his expression grim. "Understood, sir." A beat. Then, with more weight: "Thank you for your orders, Councilor Albert." Albert turned without another word, his coat sweeping behind him as he strode back toward the compound. There would be no more mercy. No more chances. This was the end of the chase. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. This time, his son would not escape. ¡ª¡ª¡ª///////¡ª¡ª¡ª The low hum of machinery clashed with the distant echoes of human suffering-the muffled wails of the broken, the relentless grinding of gears, the metallic shriek of something too rusted to move but forced to anyway. The walls, thick with peeling paint and grime, seemed to absorb the cries, swallowing them whole until all that remained was the suffocating silence that followed. The air was thick, cloying, laced with the acrid stench of sweat, blood, and something worse¡ª the sour, rotting scent of hopelessness. It clung to the skin, settled in the lungs like a poison, turning every breath into an act of defiance. This was no place of refuge. It was a tomb for hope, a graveyard of whispers and forgotten names. Here, secrets were buried as deeply as the bodies that fed Albert''s growing empire, their voices silenced beneath layers of concrete and cruelty. The walls did not simply contain prisoners; they consumed them, devouring flesh and will alike. This was where conspirators vanished. Where the dangerous and the unwanted were locked away, wrung dry of their usefulness, or broken apart until they spilled the truths Albert sought. And those who had nothing left to confess? They became another piece of the foundation, another ghost in the dark. And yet, here, in the dim glow of a flickering light, three figures remained. In the shadowed corner of a forgotten locker room, Robert and Doctor Lilith Cenilera sat in silence, their breaths measured, their bodies wound tight with exhaustion and the knowledge that their survival teetered on a knife''s edge. Between them, Edwin lay motionless atop a dented metal bench. His too-thin frame barely stirred, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. His face, pale and gaunt, was a map of suffering carved into young, fragile skin. The deep bruises along his arms, the dried blood at his temple-each told a story of agony, of stolen time, of a nightmare that did not end when his eyes closed. Even in unconsciousness, his brows remained furrowed, his fingers twitching as though still bracing for the next blow. Robert stood with his back to the wall, arms crossed over his chest in a display of strength that barely concealed the restless energy thrumming beneath his skin. His fingers flexed at his sides, betraying the tension he refused to name. He was listening, always listening. To the hum of the facility. To the distant clang of boots on metal grating. To the murmurs beyond the heavy door, low voices speaking in clipped tones. His jaw tightened. "We did it," he murmured, though there was no triumph in his voice. It was a statement, nothing more. Hollow, brittle. His eyes flicked toward the door again, his pulse a slow, steady drumbeat of wariness. Doctor Cenilera exhaled, a slow and measured breath that did little to steady her frayed nerves. She sat with her elbows braced against her knees, fingers laced together, as if she could hold something solid between them-something real, something untouched by the nightmare unfolding around them. But her hands trembled, a betrayal of the years she had spent honing precision and control. "For now," she said, voice low, words measured. Her gaze drifted back to Edwin, lingering on the sharp angles of his malnourished body. "But how long until Albert finds us?" The question lingered between them, settling into the room like a specter. There was no need to answer. They both knew. Albert didn''t need cameras to find them. He didn''t need wires or monitors or guards. His reach was woven into the very fabric of this place. His presence was a weight that pressed against their chests, unseen but undeniable. The room, already cold, seemed to grow smaller, more suffocating. Robert pushed off the wall, pacing now, his boots heavy against the floor, each step an unspoken curse, a demand for action when there was none to take. His movements were sharp, restless, his mind likely cycling through every possible outcome, every possible escape route. But they both knew-there were no good options. Lilith watched him for a moment before her gaze dropped back to Edwin. And then, unbidden, the memories came. They rushed in like a tide, pulling her under, dragging her back to a time before the world had twisted itself into this living nightmare. Before the walls of the compound had become chains. Before Albert had become something to fear. She had trusted him once. Admired him, even. And now, the man she had once believed in was hunting them. Chapter 12: 8 Years Ago (Part 1) The compound was still finding its shape, its bones of steel and concrete barely holding against the chaos pressing in from beyond the walls. The second barrier was under construction, piece by piece the rebars were installed to defend what little remained of civilization. The rhythmic pounding of hammers and the hum of welding torches filled the air, a constant heartbeat in this new world. Beyond the walls, war raged¡ªa distant, unrelenting symphony of gunfire and explosions. Yet, within the classroom, there was a fragile pocket of normalcy. Lilith moved between wooden desks, arranging papers and brushing dust from the old books stacked haphazardly on the shelves. The scent of chalk mingled with the faint mustiness of worn pages. Somewhere outside, children''s laughter cut through the grim, gray air, a sound so rare it almost felt out of place. She had just finished writing the day''s lesson on the board when the door burst open. Carlos''s voice was breathless, panicked. He nearly stumbled as he dragged Edwin in behind him. "Edwin''s hurt again!¡± Lilith turned, her stomach twisting at the sight of the boy. Edwin stood in the doorway, his small frame tense, his hazel eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears. His face was streaked with dirt, his skin pale beneath the smudges. Blood trickled from scratches on his arm and knee, crimson lines stark against his skin. Carlos''s voice was breathless, panicked. He nearly stumbled as he dragged Edwin in behind him. "Edwin''s hurt again!" Carlos hovered nearby, his eyes wide with concern. "Is he gonna be okay?" Lilith turned, her stomach twisting at the sight of the boy. Edwin stood in the doorway, his small frame tense, his hazel eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears. His face was streaked with dirt, his skin pale beneath the smudges. Blood trickled from scratches on his arm and knee, crimson lines stark against his skin. "Oh, sweetheart, what happened?" Lilith asked, already moving toward him. Her voice was gentle, but concern tightened her chest. Carlos, still gripping Edwin''s wrist, barely took a breath before answering. "We were playing hide-and-seek, and he fell out of a tree!" Lilith exhaled, equal parts relief and exasperation. Of course, it was a tree. "Come sit down," she said, guiding Edwin to a chair near her desk. Her fingers worked automatically, reaching for antiseptic and bandages from the nearby cabinet. "You''re always getting into trouble, aren''t you?" she teased lightly, though her hands were careful as she began cleaning the wounds. "At this rate, you''re going to give me gray hairs before I turn thirty." Edwin sniffled, his small shoulders trembling. "It wasn''t that high," he mumbled, but the quiver in his voice betrayed him. Carlos hovered nearby, bouncing on his heels. "Is he gonna be okay?" Lilith offered a small smile. "He''ll be fine." She smoothed a bandage over the worst scrape and reached for the mini-fridge under her desk. "Here," she said, handing Edwin a juice box. "This might help with the nerves." The boy took it with both hands, fingers curled tight around the carton as if it were a lifeline. "But all the good hiding spots are in the trees," Edwin grumbled, sticking the straw into the juice and taking a long sip. Carlos huffed, crossing his arms. "It''s because you keep getting hurt! Try hiding somewhere safer." "But that''s too easy! How can I be the best at hide-and-seek if all the best spots are off-limits?" Edwin whined. Lilith chuckled, ruffling his tangled hair. "You''ll find other places. Just... no more injuries, alright? I don''t want to have to explain this to your father again." At the mention of Albert, something flickered in Edwin''s expression. He lowered his gaze, suddenly engrossed in the juice box solemnly. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Lilith watched him for a moment before glancing out the small, reinforced window. The city beyond was wrapped in perpetual gray, the sky thick with the residue of war. A breeze carried the scent of upturned earth and concrete dust from the construction site. The clang of hammers and the occasional shout of workers served as a reminder that safety here was fragile -constantly being built, constantly at risk of being lost. Her gaze shifted to the far wall where a large, faded map of the Fallen City hung, dotted with red markings-fortified zones, breached areas, places where defenses had failed. Next to it, a set of blueprints showed the future of the compound: three concentric walls, layered like armor, the final barrier between survival and extinction. Lilith had just turned back to the boys when a knock at the door made her pause. It wasn''t hurried or frantic. It was measured. Controlled. She already knew who it was before the door swung open. Albert stepped inside, and for a moment, the room seemed smaller. Even in casual attire- a crisp button-up, black slacks, polished boots-he carried himself with the weight of authority. His dark hair was tied back neatly, though a few stray strands had slipped loose. A well-trimmed beard framed his sharp features, but there was no mistaking the quiet intensity in his gaze. His eyes swept the room before settling on Lilith. And though his presence commanded attention, there was something in his expression¡ª something quieter, something human-that made her heartbeat steady, even as the weight of his gaze settled on her. "I''m sorry for coming unannounced," Albert said, his voice measured and calm. "I''m just here to pick Edwin up early today." Lilith offered a small smile, though concern tinged the edges of it. "Early again? Edwin''s been leaving class early every day this week. Is everything alright? He''s a growing boy, and there''s so much he could be learning¡ª" She hesitated, realizing too late that she might have overstepped. A flash of regret crossed her face as she lowered her gaze. "I apologize, Councilor. I didn''t mean to question your authority." Albert waved a hand dismissively, his usual commanding presence softened in this moment. "Please, Lilith, there''s no need for that. Right now, I''m not the councilor of the Fallen City-I''m just Edwin''s father." That distinction, spoken with such deliberate warmth, eased some of her tension. Lilith exhaled, nodding. "Of course. I just worry that with all these early departures, Edwin will fall behind his classmates. He''s very bright, but he''s still just a child..." Albert''s gaze drifted toward his son, who was still by the window, laughing with Carlos. "I understand your concern," he said after a pause. "But Edwin is learning much by my side as well. The world we live in requires more than what books can teach. He''ll need to understand the responsibilities that come with leadership¡ª something I''m still adjusting to myself." Lilith had heard the rumors, of course. Albert''s ascension to councilor had not been a smooth one. He had inherited a crumbling world, forced to hold it together with both diplomacy and iron will. Managing the city, mediating between the factions, spearheading research for a cure-it was more than any man should bear. Yet here he stood, carrying it all with a kind of quiet resilience. Lilith clasped her hands in front of her, carefully choosing her words. "If such a case arises, I''ll let you know. Thank you, Lilith. You''ve been a blessing in both our lives. I know Edwin cares for you a lot, and thanks to you, l''ve been able to handle things with the wall, the other council leaders, and my research." She hesitated before speaking. "He''s lucky to have you," she said softly. Then, gathering her courage, she added, "And... I wanted to mention, I''d like to do more. To help. I know I''m just his caregiver, but I studied medicine before the Collapse, and if there''s ever a need for more hands in the compound, I could be of use." Albert studied her carefully, his sharp gaze betraying the weight of his thoughts. The silence stretched between them, thick with something unspoken. Then, finally, he nodded. "I''ll keep that in mind," he said, his tone thoughtful. "Your dedication hasn''t gone unnoticed, Lilith. You''ve become more than just a teacher or a caregiver-you''ve become a part of our family. Edwin cares for you deeply, and I..." He trailed off, as if catching himself before stepping too far over a fragile line. Instead, he cleared his throat and finished with, "I appreciate everything you''ve done for him. For us." Outside, the wind picked up, rattling the window frames. A low, distant boom echoed from beyond the walls-the unmistakable percussion of an explosion. The battle at the outer perimeter raged on. The safety of this classroom, this moment, was an illusion, a fragile bubble that could burst at any second. Albert''s expression darkened as he glanced toward the window, his mind already retreating to war councils and supply lines. "I have to get back soon," he said, his voice shifting-no longer just a father, but a leader once more. "But thank you, Lilith. You''ve been a blessing to us both." Before he could say more, Edwin turned, noticing his father¡¯s presence. A brilliant grin split his face as he abandoned his game and sprinted toward him. "Dad! You''re here!" Albert''s expression softened once more as he knelt down¡ª crouched, catching his son in a firm but gentle embrace. "Yes, I''m here. Are you ready to go?" "Yeah! Lilith said I shouldn''t hide in trees anymore," Edwin said, pouting slightly. Albert chuckled, ruffling his son''s dark hair. "She''s right. You need to be more careful. There will always be other places to hide, but there''s only one you." Edwin''s pout lingered for a second before he brightened, absorbing the wisdom in his own way. Lilith watched their interaction with a quiet sort of reverence, something both warm and deeply, achingly bittersweet. This was the Albert she remembered-the man who, despite everything, still found time for his son. The man who, for all the burdens placed upon him, still managed to be kind. She had no way of knowing, in this moment, how fleeting that warmth would become. As they left, the door closing softly behind them, Lilith remained standing in the quiet, her gaze drifting back to the large map on the wall. Red markers dotted the city''s outer zones, marking breaches and compromised sectors. Beside it, the blueprints of the Fallen City''s future stood in stark contrast-three circular walls, a final line of defense that, if completed, could ensure their survival. But survival came at a cost. The world outside was still crumbling, the infected still clawing at their borders. But within these walls, for a brief moment, hope flickered¡ª held together by fragile bonds, like the one she had with Albert and Edwin. A bond that, even now, she feared was already beginning to fray. Chapter 13: 8 Years Ago (Part 2) Lilith stood by the window, watching Albert and Edwin disappear into the murky gloom outside. The door had barely clicked shut, yet an uneasy chill remained in the air, creeping up her spine like a whisper of something she couldn''t quite name. Things were changing¡ªshe could feel it. Not in the sudden, obvious way that tragedies announce themselves, but in the slow, creeping shift of something unraveling. The moments when she glimpsed Albert''s softer side were growing fewer, replaced by an impatience that hardened his once-gentle features. A darkness had begun to settle in his eyes, quiet but unrelenting, like a storm forming at the horizon. Weeks passed, and Lilith began to notice something troubling about Edwin. The boy who once raced into the classroom with an infectious grin, bursting with energy and laughter, now walked with measured, hesitant steps. His once bright eyes had dulled, their lively spark replaced with something distant, something withdrawn. The bruises, at first, seemed harmless¡ªscrapes from climbing trees, roughhousing with the other children. Edwin had always been adventurous, often returning with fresh scratches from his latest escapades. But these marks were different. Deep bruises marred his arms, the kind that didn''t come from a simple fall. There were strange burns on his skin, welts that raised questions she wasn¡¯t sure she wanted answered. And worse¡ªscars. Small, deliberate incisions that had healed over but left their cruel evidence behind. Lilith¡¯s stomach twisted in knots every time she saw him flinch when Albert raised a hand¡ªnot in anger, not to strike, but in gestures that had once meant comfort. A tousle of his hair, a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder¡ªthings that should have soothed Edwin now made him tense, his small frame stiffening as if bracing for something unseen. The change was undeniable. Edwin no longer threw himself into his father¡¯s embrace the way he used to. Instead, he approached Albert with careful steps, watching him with guarded eyes. It was fear. She recognized it now. And once she did, she couldn''t unsee it. She told herself not to interfere, not yet. But every time Edwin limped through the door, every time she caught him wincing as he lowered himself onto his seat, she felt the weight of her silence pressing heavier against her chest. Until one day, she couldn''t hold back any longer. ¡°Edwin,¡± she said gently, crouching beside him where he sat alone in the corner, away from the other children. ¡°Are you alright?¡± He didn¡¯t answer right away. His small hands gripped the edges of his sleeves, pulling them down as if that could erase the evidence etched into his skin. When he finally spoke, his voice was small, devoid of the warmth it once carried. ¡°I¡¯m fine, Miss Lilith.¡± A lie. She could hear it, feel it in the way his shoulders curled inward, in the way he refused to meet her gaze. ¡°Where did you get these bruises?¡± she pressed, keeping her voice steady despite the way her heart pounded against her ribs. He shifted, uneasy. ¡°I fell.¡± Her breath hitched. Not because of what he said¡ªbut because of how he said it. Like he had been taught those words. Like he had been told to say them. She wanted to believe it was all in her head, that she was overanalyzing a child¡¯s misfortunes. But deep down, she knew better. She had seen it in the way he stiffened when Albert¡¯s voice rang through the doorway, the way he cast his gaze downward when his father spoke to him. The bond that had once been filled with playfulness and affection had eroded into something else. Something silent. Something cold. The next few times Albert came to pick Edwin up, Lilith watched closely. Her eyes tracked the way Edwin moved to his father¡¯s side, the stiffness in his posture, the way his fingers curled slightly, as if resisting the urge to flinch. Albert still spoke with that same measured calm, but there was an edge now, a quiet sharpness that hadn''t been there before. His smiles no longer reached his eyes. Then, the visits stopped altogether. At first, she told herself it was temporary. Perhaps Albert¡¯s work had intensified, perhaps Edwin had simply outgrown the classroom. But as days bled into weeks, and weeks into months, the absence carved itself into the walls. The classroom, once filled with Edwin¡¯s laughter, now felt unbearably quiet. She asked around, searching for answers, but all she received were whispers and hollow reassurances. ¡°He¡¯s safe,¡± they told her. ¡°He¡¯s well taken care of.¡± But she knew better. The silence spoke louder than their words ever could. Then, one evening, as she was cleaning up after another long day, the door creaked open. Albert. His presence filled the room instantly, commanding, suffocating. He never announced himself, but this time¡ªthis time, something was different. His face, usually so composed, was drawn tight, shadows pooling beneath his sharp eyes. The lines around his mouth were deeper, carved by stress, exhaustion, something else she couldn''t place. His movements were precise, controlled, but his expression¡ª Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. His expression was cold. Lilith set down the book she had been organizing, forcing her hands to remain steady. ¡°Councilor,¡± she greeted, her voice measured. ¡°What brings you here?¡± Albert studied her for a long moment before speaking. ¡°I have an offer for you.¡± There was no warmth in his tone. No pleasantries, no familiar ease. Just cold calculation. ¡°I¡¯d like you to come work in the compound,¡± he continued, stepping closer. ¡°Your skills are wasted here. With your background, you could be doing something far more meaningful. I could use someone like you.¡± Lilith¡¯s pulse quickened. This wasn¡¯t a request. It was something else. An invitation, wrapped in expectation. And then he said the words that made her breath catch in her throat. ¡°You¡¯ll see Edwin again.¡± The room around her blurred. For months, she had wondered where he was, if he was safe, if he was even¡ª No. She wouldn¡¯t let herself think that way. She swallowed hard, meeting Albert¡¯s gaze. His eyes betrayed nothing. She had a choice to make. And something told her that if she said no, she might never see Edwin again. Lilith turned as the door creaked open, her pulse quickening at the sight of the man standing in the doorway. "Councilor," she greeted, the title foreign on her tongue when directed at him. Albert''s presence filled the room, heavy and suffocating. It had been weeks since she''d last seen him, and the silence between them was laden with unspoken questions. But there was only one that mattered. "Is everything alright?" she asked, though she already knew the answer. Albert didn''t speak right away. He stood motionless, his sharp gaze sweeping across the dimly lit classroom as if memorizing it. When his eyes finally settled on her, they were unreadable, but something about the way he held himself-the stiffness in his shoulders, the way his fingers curled at his sides-set her on edge. "I''ve been meaning to speak with you, Lilith." Her heart pounded. About Edwin. The name burned on her tongue, and before she could stop herself, she said it. "About Edwin?" Albert''s eyes darkened, and for the first time, Lilith felt truly uneasy in his presence. A flicker of something-guilt, hesitation-crossed Albert''s face before it vanished behind his ever-cold calm exterior. "Edwin is... no longer attending your school." Lilith stiffened. I know that. What I want to know is why. "But why? He needs structure, education¡ªa safe place to grow." Her voice was sharper than she intended, but she didn''t care. Albert stepped forward, his expression unreadable. He stopped right in front of her, the air around him chilling. For the first time, Lilith felt something else beneath his usual composure. A warning. "He is being... prepared," Albert said at last. A chill crawled up Lilith''s spine. "Prepared for what?" Albert exhaled, his patience thinning. "The world we live in now is unforgiving, Lilith. I''ve had to make difficult choices." Her throat tightened. Difficult choices? She could barely hear over the ringing in her ears. "I can''t explain everything to you right now," he continued. "But I need you in the compound. On the third level. Your skills are needed more urgently there than they are here." Lilith''s fingers curled into fists. "But what about Edwin? Where is he? What''s happening to him?" Her voice rose, panic threading through it. Edwin was like a son to her, and the thought of him subjected to whatever Albert wasn''t saying-it was unbearable. Albert stepped closer. The air between them tensed, suffocating. "You''ll be reunited with him soon enough," he assured, though the words felt like a hollow promise. "But for now, I need your help in the compound. There are things happening that you can''t understand. But trust me, it''s all for the greater good." The man before her didn''t feel like the Albert she once knew. There had been warmth in him once, a quiet gentleness beneath the scientist''s logic. Now, all she saw was calculation. A man who believed in his own righteousness, even as he carved away pieces of his own humanity. And yet, despite it all, she wanted to trust him. "If this is for Edwin," she whispered, forcing the words past the tightness in her chest, "then... I''ll help. But I want to see him. I need to see him." Albert studied her, his expression unreadable. Then, just for a second, his face softened. "You will," he murmured. "In time. But for now, your place is in the compound. Trust me, Lilith. You''re doing the right thing." With that, he turned, his footsteps echoing as he disappeared outside. Lilith stood frozen in the dimly lit classroom, her heart pounding. She had made her choice. But at what cost? Carlos entered a few moments later. His face sunk and looked at the floor. Lilith walked over to him and kneeled down to eye level. ¡°Miss Lilith. Are you going away just like Edwin?¡± He asked, barely holding back his tears. The question hung in the air like death. The answer was obvious, no one who joined the compound hardly ever came out. Their work was too important and secret to risk letting it be known. Biting her lip, she calmly replied ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to visit as often as I can. Can you gather the other students for me?¡± ¡°Yeah I can.¡± The following week, she stood before her students, forcing a smile she didn''t feel. "I have an announcement." The children quieted. She took a breath, steadying herself. "I''ll be leaving the school for a while. My work is taking me somewhere else." A murmur swept through the room-confusion, disappointment. Then, a small voice cut through the noise. "Miss Lilith... are you going to disappear like Edwin?" She turned. A young girl who often played with Edwin and Carlos stood at her desk, face pale¡ª fingers gripping the edge of her chair. The air grew thick with unspoken fears. Lilith''s heart clenched. "I''ll be sure to visit as often as I can, Cheyanne" she said gently, though even as the words left her lips, she wasn''t sure if they were true. The other children brightened, reassured. But not Carlos. He only stared at her, his eyes dark with something deeper than sadness. He knows. No one who joined the compound ever came back. Just like his father who had vanished, leaving him behind after joining the compound a year prior. But she had to go. She had to find out what was happening to Edwin-had to uncover the truth, no matter how terrifying it might be. She glanced at the empty desk beside Carlos''s. Edwin''s desk. Where once there had been laughter and light, there was now only an absence. And she feared she would soon join it. ¡ª¡ª¡ª///////¡ª¡ª¡ª The weight of the past pressed in on her like a slow-moving avalanche. Lilith sat in the dimly lit locker room, staring down at the unconscious boy before her. Edwin''s face was pale, his body battered. His breathing was shallow. How did it come to this? The memories clawed at her-the bright-eyed child who once sat in her classroom, eager and full of life. The boy who had flinched under Albert''s shadow, who had disappeared behind locked doors. And now, here he was. Broken. Barely clinging to life. She touched his bruised skin with a gentle hand, her resolve hardening. The promise she had once made-to watch over him, to keep him safe-was not forgotten. She would not fail him again. I have to save him. Chapter 14: Monster The room was suffocating with unspoken tension, thick like smoke that clung to the walls. Robert shifted his weight, his fingers flexing at his sides as he stared down at Edwin''s still form. The boy lay sprawled on the bench, his face soft with the illusion of peace. But Robert knew better. There was nothing peaceful about this moment, nothing calm about the storm waiting beneath Edwin''s unconscious exterior. He exhaled sharply, his resolve hardening. "We have to do it now. I should be the one to wake him up." "No." Doctor Cenilera''s voice cut through the quiet, firm and immediate. "I''ll do it." Robert turned his head slightly, casting her a skeptical glance. "The last time didn''t exactly go well. Maybe I can calm him down." "That''s because I poked him with a needle," she admitted, her voice softening just enough to acknowledge the mistake, yet still unwavering. Robert crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. "And I''m still the better option. I can handle the kid throwing a tantrum¡ªI''ve been trained for it." Cenilera''s gaze darkened. "He''s not a kid anymore, Robert. He''s in his teens. And we still don''t understand the severity or full extent of what Albert did to him." Robert scoffed under his breath, shaking his head. "The way I see it, he''s still a kid. And the best way to wake a kid up?" He smirked. "A little pinch of pain." Before she could stop him, Robert leaned over and pinched Edwin''s arm. The reaction was instant. Edwin''s eyes snapped open, wide and frantic, his breath hitching as if he''d just surfaced from drowning. His pupils, dilated with unfiltered panic, darted wildly around the room. Then he moved. Faster than Robert expected, Edwin shoved him back with startling force, his body twisting off the bench in a desperate attempt to escape. His movements were erratic, pure instinct driving him to run. But Robert was quicker-he lunged, catching Edwin''s leg and yanking him back down. A sharp crack! Edwin''s head slammed against the edge of the bench with a dull thud. ¡ª¡ª¡ª///////¡ª¡ª¡ª I was drowning. Cold water rushed over, surrounding me¡ªthick and suffocating, dragging me back into the nightmare. The lab''s sterile lights flickered above, too bright, too white, buzzing like insects in my skull. My body was a cage of agony, nerves set aflame by Albert''s experiments. What am I doing back here? I took a glance around me as the setting shifted into focus. A familiar setting, formed before me. A steel table with metal restraints, large machines, wires coiling like snakes to the table and the most terrifying part, Albert. Oh right. I got caught again. Albert¡¯s voice-haunting, methodical-wrapped around me like chains. "I''m not just searching for a cure. I''m creating a weapon using the virus inside you as my base." I¡¯m a weapon? Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Alberts smile was never warm. It was clinical, sharp with the edge of obsession. I remembered the needles, the currents of electricity surging through my veins, the way his eyes flickered with intrigue when I screamed. When the results disappointed him, he grew colder. More cruel. The darkness pressed in, threatening to swallow me whole until¡ª Pain. A sharp, searing pain in my ribs yanked me from the void. My lungs burned, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps as the nightmare splintered away. The walls swam back into focus. I wasn''t in the lab. I wasn''t drowning. But the weight on top of me-someone holding me down-too much like before. Ah! What the hell!" I gasped, thrashing beneath the pressure pinning me. My body was still shaking, still trapped in the horror of what had been done to me. "Robert! Don''t hurt him!" Doctor Cenilera''s voice wavered, her eyes wide with alarm. "I''m not trying to!" Robert snapped back, straining against my resistance. "He''s stronger than he looks!" I fought harder. The panic clawed up my throat, drowning reason, drowning everything but the need to get free. But Robert was relentless, his grip locking me down. My vision blurred. My lungs screamed. "Stop! I give!" I choked out, my body heaving as I did my best to hold still. A long silence followed, thick with the echoes of my ragged breaths. The pressure on my chest eased, but the weight of everything else remained-pressing down, suffocating, inescapable. Robert didn¡¯t let go right away. His grip remained firm on my shoulder, pinning me against the cold bench, his weight a silent warning not to resist. His breath came slow and measured, but I could feel the tension coiling beneath his skin like a wire pulled too tight. His eyes flickered to Doctor Cenilera, nodding for her to take over. ¡°Listen to her,¡± Robert muttered, his voice laced with irritation. ¡°She¡¯ll explain everything.¡± Cenilera crouched beside me, her expression caught between urgency and something that looked too much like sympathy. ¡°Edwin, you have to believe me when I say we¡¯re not here to hurt you. We¡¯re not your enemies.¡± I scoffed, my muscles tensing beneath Robert¡¯s hold. My breath was still ragged, my mind struggling to shake off the residual haze of nightmares and pain. ¡°You both work for Albert. Don¡¯t act like you¡¯re on my side.¡± Robert exhaled sharply, his patience visibly fraying. ¡°We got you out of the Third Level, didn¡¯t we? You¡¯re on the Fourth now. We¡¯re trying to help you escape.¡± ¡°Escape?¡± I repeated, incredulous. ¡°You didn¡¯t get me out¡ªyou just dragged me deeper! Do you have any idea what Albert will do to me for this? He¡¯ll¡ªhe¡¯ll¡­¡± My throat tightened. I didn¡¯t need to finish. We all knew. Albert didn¡¯t forgive. There would be punishments, injections, the raw agony of his experiments, the way his cold voice measured out my pain like data points on a chart. My body trembled as the weight of it all crashed down again, threatening to suffocate me. Robert leaned in closer, his jaw clenched. ¡°Shut up and listen. We brought you here to change your clothes and get you out. You want out, right? The emergency tunnel¡¯s on this level. That¡¯s our way out.¡± I wanted to believe him. But trust was a dangerous thing. I glared at Robert, my body coiled, ready to fight if I had to. ¡°This feels like a trap. Let me go, or I swear, I¡¯ll break your arm.¡± Cenilera¡¯s voice cut through the tension like a blade, calm but insistent. ¡°Edwin, we¡¯re risking everything to help you. I know you have no reason to believe us¡ªnot after everything Albert¡¯s done¡ªbut please, if you want to escape, you have to trust us. If you don¡¯t, none of us will make it out.¡± My breathing was uneven, my pulse hammering in my ears. My mind screamed at me to fight, to run, to do anything but sit here and listen. But beneath that panic, something else whispered. A question I didn¡¯t want to consider. What if they''re telling the truth? I searched Cenilera¡¯s face, looking for a crack in her words, a flicker of deception. But all I saw was raw urgency, the same kind I had felt when I was desperate for an escape. My gaze flickered to Robert, who was watching me like he was ready to subdue me if I lashed out again. He wasn¡¯t kind, not like Cenilera, but there was something real in his frustration¡ªsomething that didn¡¯t feel like a lie. ¡°You really want me to believe you?¡± My voice was lower now, uncertain. ¡°After everything?¡± Cenilera leaned in just slightly, her voice steady but pleading. ¡°I understand your doubts. I do. But if we don¡¯t move now, Albert will find us¡ªand then it¡¯s over. This is your only chance.¡± A pause. The weight of her words settled, heavy and suffocating. My defiance faltered, cracking just slightly beneath the uncertainty. Robert stepped forward, his voice flat but firm. ¡°We¡¯re the only ones who can get you out of here. And if you want to survive, you have to trust us¡ªjust this once.¡± Trust. That word tasted bitter in my mouth. But what choice did I have? If I stayed, Albert would come. And there would be no second chances. I hesitated, my hands curling into fists, my body aching from the tension of the moment. ¡°You¡¯re telling me, after everything¡ªafter the torture, the beatings, the injections¡ªnow, now you¡¯re helping me?¡± I let out a heavy, exhausted sigh, realizing that I couldn¡¯t undo what they had started. ¡°Fine,¡± I muttered. ¡°But I¡¯m not making any promises.¡± Cenilera exhaled, a flicker of relief crossing her face, but she didn¡¯t waste another second. She leaned in, her voice urgent. ¡°Do you know what¡¯s been happening to you? Or what Albert wants?¡± I stiffened. The memories clawed at the edges of my mind, but they were fragmented, blurred by pain. What Albert wanted¡ªwhat he had done to me¡ªwas a question I wasn¡¯t sure I wanted answered. My voice trembled with barely contained fury. "You want to know what Albert has been doing? Alright, I''ll tell you what I remember. I''ve been tortured, beaten, electrocuted! Stabbed, mentally tormented, injected with poisons and serums! All for some twisted idea he has about creating a weapon and cure at the same time! How does that make any sense?" My breath came in short, ragged gasps, my entire body trembling with rage and exhaustion. The walls of the sterile, dimly lit room seemed to close in around me, suffocating me with the weight of everything I had endured. My pulse pounded in my ears, a relentless drumbeat of fury and fear. "He said it has the ability to fight off the Virus. But there''s something else," I continued, my voice cracking under the strain. "All this torture has been to extract enough so he can use it¡ªto weaponize it. Which means-" The silence that followed was deafening, as if the very air had frozen. Robert and Doctor Cenilera exchanged uneasy glances, their expressions shifting from shock to something else¡ªsomething close to horror. ¡°I think I¡¯m a monster.¡± Chapter 15: The Past and Plans The weight of my own words crushed me. My breath hitched, my chest tightening like a vice around my lungs. "He wanted my blood when some condition was met. Albert isn''t researching a cure-at least, not in the way you think. What he did to me... it gave me something unnatural.¡± Abilities I can barely control. A nightmare stitched into my veins. I swallowed hard, the truth finally settling like poison in my gut. "I think that''s his real goal-to extract my power and use it for whatever twisted purpose he has in mind." Doctor Cenilera''s hands clenched at her sides, her gaze sharp, calculating. A flicker of unease crossed her face. "Is he planning to attack one of the other Councilors?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking the thought aloud would make it real. ¡°I''ll tell you. What I do know. He''s tortured me. Beaten me. Electrocuted me until I couldn''t scream anymore. Stabbed me. Poisoned me with serums that made my body twist into something else. He''s put me through hell for some ridiculous idea of creating a weapon-something to fight a virus and some guy he¡¯s mentioned before. Tell me, how does that make any sense?! All I know is pain." My breath came fast, ragged, my vision blurring at the edges. Robert took a step back, his face pale. "So he''s developing a cure... while simultaneously building a weapon?" Doctor Cenilera''s expression softened, though her eyes remained sharp with worry. "I¡¯m sorry Edwin. I should¡¯ve never let him take you back then.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t remember you or what you¡¯re talking about. All I know, is that I woke up with this power.¡± ¡°What power are you talking about?" She asked. I hesitated, dropping my gaze to the floor. "My arm." The words felt foreign, heavy in my mouth. "He stuck me with a needle, and after that... it changed. Morphed. Mutated..." "Changed how?" Cenilera pressed, her voice careful. Before I could answer, Robert stiffened. "Wait¡ª are you saying you destroyed Albert''s lab? The recent time, and the times before?" A grim smirk tugged at my lips. "Yeah. Smashed it with my hand. My... monster hand? What the hell do l even call it?" "It mutated into this grotesque, pale, giant limb-huge bony claws, sharp as hell. I tried to use it again in that office I hid in, but I blacked out from blood loss instead of summoning it." Robert exhaled sharply, his expression unreadable. "We all thought you were trying to kill yourself... I''m glad that''s not the case." A bitter chuckle escaped me. "It''s not hope or willpower that triggers it, trust me. It happens when it wants to. The last time it did, there were red flashing lights everywhere. Without those, I don''t think I can activate it. And Albert... he knows that. He knows me better than I know myself." My stomach churned. "Especially now that l have amnesia." Doctor Cenilera exhaled, as if preparing herself. "There''s something else," she said, her voice careful but firm. "This isn''t your first time with amnesia." My heart lurched. "What?" I demanded, panic clawing up my throat. Her gaze didn''t waver. "When I first came across you and your father a few months after the apocalypse, you had already lost your memory. The furthest thing you could recall was waking up in Albert''s arms as he carried you to safety." My blood turned to ice. Albert... is my father? The thought sickened me. Punching a hole through my stomach. The very same man that tormented me for many years was none other than my own father. A sickness spread through me, burning and relentless. A jagged, searing wound deep in my chest. I staggered back, shaking my head as if I could physically reject the truth. "No... no, that''s not possible." But Cenilera wasn''t lying. She wasn''t mocking me or testing me. Her expression held only worry, a hesitance that made my stomach sink further. "Were you unaware?" she asked softly. "It''s a well-known fact. You''re quite famous... though not in the best way." "He''s my father." The words felt like shattered glass in my throat. The very man who had tortured me for years-who had turned my life into an unending nightmare-was the same man who once held me as a child? Actually, had he ever held me? It¡¯s hard to imagine. I wanted answers. But all I had were more questions. "Alright," he said, breaking the unbearable weight in the air. "The guards have finished their sweep of this level. If we''re doing this, we need to move now." He turned to me. "Edwin, you''ll need a scout''s uniform to blend in. It''s not much, but it should hide you from Albert''s surveillance." I hesitated. "You think it''ll work?" Doubt curled in my gut. Robert smirked, shaking his head. "It''s just cargo shorts, a white T-shirt, and a cap that''ll help cover your face from the cameras. Simple, but effective." He tossed me the clothes¡ªa pair of khaki shorts, a white T, an undershirt, socks, a hat, and a pair of low-top boots. I quickly changed, catching my malnourished reflection in the cracked mirror. I looked like a damn Halloween decoration. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. "Should we get going then?" I asked, a hint of excitement creeping into my voice. "I can¡¯t wait to be out of this place." Robert laughed. "Same here, kid." Cenilera gave me a small, reassuring smile. "You''re fine, Edwin." Then she hesitated, glancing toward the corridor. "But I''m not sure how l''ll explain my presence here if we get caught." Robert frowned. "Right... That''s something we still need to figure out." I frowned. "Can''t she just disguise herself as a Guard like me?" "Wishful thinking," Doctor Cenilera said, her voice tinged with a bitter edge. "But women aren''t allowed in the Guards. No exceptions." "That''s stupid," I muttered, shaking my head. Robert exhaled sharply, nodding. "Women are key to survival, after all. Sorry, Doctor." "It''s just how Albert sees it, I suppose," she replied with a resigned sigh. "I guess it''s one of his better morals." "His morals?" I scoffed. "What morals?" Robert ignored my outburst, snapping his fingers as an idea struck him. "I''ve got it, Cenilera. Just say you were doing physical exams for the new recruits!" I forced a smirk, though doubt gnawed at me. "Sounds good, I guess." Doctor Cenilera glanced at her watch. "At six in the morning?" Robert blinked, realization dawning. "Wait... it''s that early?" "How do you even know the time?" I asked, curiosity flickering beneath my nerves. Time was a ghost to me, something I had lost long ago in that cell. Yet, some things still clung to my mind like remnants of a past life-language, the vague concept of hours and minutes, the knowledge that our world followed 28 days in a month, thirteen months in a year''s calendar. But time itself? That was stolen from me. "I have a Heiss watch," Cenilera replied evenly, lifting her wrist to show a slim, silver device wrapped around it. Robert shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. "It may sound surprising, but I haven''t been outside much lately. Most of us in the base just follow the time on our watches." I scanned the room, their tension pressing down on me. My gaze drifted to the door-the only thing separating us from freedom or another nightmare. "This place is insane," I murmured, my fingers curling into fists. "No wonder you both want to help. You want out, too. So let''s do it." Robert exchanged a glance with Cenilera before nodding. Without another word, he opened the door, peering down the dimly lit hallway. The silence was suffocating. Doctor Cenilera''s expression turned serious. "It was a challenge just to get here." ¡°How far do we need to go?¡± I asked, dreading going out. "It''s three corridors down," Robert answered, leading the way. "Sounds easy enough," I said as I got off the bench, running behind him ready to go. "It may sound easy, but it isn''t," Doctor Cenilera cautioned. "That''s the quickest route, but..." Robert hesitated, glancing at her. Robert nodded. "Our original plan was to go around, after waking you up in the stairs,¡± his voice hardened heavily. ¡°We couldn¡¯t because guards started coming in from the top shouting to secure each level. We had no choice but to bring you here to wake you up.¡± Cenilera''s expression hardened. Robert hesitated, glancing at her before continuing. "That route leads straight through the corridors connecting the briefing and conference rooms." I frowned. "And that''s bad because...?" "They have glass windows facing the hallway," Cenilera said grimly. "Albert''s locking down the compound. He''s securing the exits. We have no time left. This is the only way." A cold weight settled in my stomach. The surge of strength I felt moments ago withered, replaced by an iron grip of dread squeezing my ribs. Albert was close. Too close. "Is anyone even in there?" My voice was quieter now. "It''s six AM, right?" "There are always Guards in there," Cenilera said. "Commanders, Generals, scouts from the outer walls giving their reports." Robert glanced at her. "How do you know all that?" She raised an eyebrow, smirking despite the tension. "I''ve been here since the beginning. You really think I wouldn''t pick up a few things?" Robert exhaled through his nose, then squared his shoulders. "Alright. No better time than now." I took a steadying breath and nodded. "Yeah. We''re wasting time." I stepped forward, but before I crossed the threshold, I hesitated. Turning to them, I met their gazes-Robert''s steady and calculating, Cenilera''s laced with concern. "Thank you," I said quietly. "I know this couldn''t have been an easy decision, but l appreciate it." "You''re welcome," Doctor Cenilera said softly. For a moment, the weight of everything settled between us. No one spoke. Then Robert let out a sharp breath and smirked. "Don''t thank us yet, kid," he muttered. "We''re not out of here after all. With a final nod, we continued forward, cautiously walking down the corridor. The conference rooms loomed ahead, their large windows revealing the presence of high-ranking officials engaged in discussions. My heart pounded as we passed, but no one spared us more than a passing glance. "Ease up, Edwin," Robert whispered. "Don''t draw attention to yourself." "I''m trying," I muttered, though the weight of our escape pressed heavy on my chest. Doctor Cenilera, sensing my nerves, began speaking about the outside world-the sky beyond the walls, the scent of real air, the sight of trees untouched by destruction. Her words painted a picture so vivid, so foreign, that for a moment, I almost believed I could reach out and touch it. We passed the last room. The hallway stretched before us, eerily silent. Flyers of Albert''s face lined the walls, his image towering above us in faded, triumphant poses. They depicted him as a savior, a hero against the horrors beyond. But to me, he was the very thing I needed to escape. Then, at last, we reached the door. A single red light flickered above it. "Good, it''s still active," Robert noted, scanning the area for any signs of surveillance. No cameras. No guards. The moment felt too perfect. Too easy. My fingers found the handle, but as I gripped it, hesitation tightened around my chest. My pulse roared in my ears as I turned to Robert and Doctor Cenilera. They had risked everything for me, and yet, I was dragging them into something far bigger than just my escape. "It''s not too late for you both to turn back," I whispered. "I can do this on my own. I don''t want either of you to get hurt... or worse." Robert stilled, then let out a soft chuckle before ruffling my hair. But when he met my gaze, his eyes were hard, unwavering. "Edwin, listen to me," he said, gripping my shoulder. "This isn''t just about you. This place-it''s killing us. We''ve been stuck here, following orders, doing things we never thought we''d have to do. Helping you is helping ourselves." Doctor Cenilera nodded. "I can leave the premises, but I haven''t seen past the first level since the walls went up. It''s like I don''t exist beyond these halls. I spend my days patching up guards, tending to prisoners who won''t survive their next round of questioning. I''m not saving lives-I''m maintaining a system built on suffering. This isn''t just an escape. It''s a choice. A chance to be more than what we''ve become." A lump formed in my throat. I wanted to argue, to force them to turn back, but I saw it in their eyes -resolve, determination. They had already made their decision. Robert smiled, despite the gravity of our situation. He stepped forward grabbing both my hand and the handle, forcing open the entrance to the tunnel. He coolly replied "You''re young, Edwin. You shouldn''t be trapped in this hellhole. You should be out there, living. Now get in." A dark, ominous tunnel, flickering lights illuminating a small path greeted me as I peeked inside. I stepped into what felt like a different world. This is insane. I¡¯ve never seen a place like this. The air feels wet? With a deep breath, I pushed forward, stepping into the tunnel. The air was thick, damp. The dim, flickering lights barely revealed the path ahead. My stomach twisted. This was it. The unknown. The tunnel to freedom. Then¡ª "What the hell do you think you''re doing down here, buddy?" His voice was low, dangerous. "And why is the emergency escape door open?" His grip tightened on the weapon. "Imagine my surprise when I saw you both sneaking around. I thought to myself-look who it is. The Doctor... and the giant asshole who didn¡¯t even bother to update me on Albert¡¯s son''s escape¡­ it¡¯s almost as if you both helped him." James. Robert shifted, stepping protectively in front of the door. Instinctively, I backed deeper into the tunnel. I wanted to stay, to fight, but I knew-l was a liability. If they were caught with me, everything would be over. I clenched my fists. My chest burned with the weight of my own helplessness. Then, with one last glance at Robert and Cenilera, I did the only thing I could. I ran. Chapter 16: Gunpoint Robert stood his ground, his voice steady despite the storm of tension brewing around them. "Sorry," he said, meeting James''s fierce gaze. "I came down after I heard the alarm." James didn''t so much as blink. His skepticism was a living thing, curling around every word as he shot back, "Weren''t you two supposed to be in the X-ray room? You''ve been getting paged for ages, Doctor. Why haven''t you responded?" Beside him, Doctor Cenilera stiffened. Her eyes widened in sudden realization. "My pager... How did I not notice until now?" James''s gaze flicked between them, unrelenting. "So what are you two still doing together anyway?" Cenilera''s mind raced. Think fast. She wet her lips, conjuring the first plausible excuse she could. "I came down here to perform... a physical." James let out a dry, humorless laugh. "A physical." His voice dripped with disbelief, each syllable thick with accusation. "So, while you two were screwing around down here in secret, the kid escaped! Either that, or you two let him go on purpose. So which is it? Am I turning you in for being just stupid or outright traitors?" The weight of the moment settled like lead on Robert''s shoulders. He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face as if trying to wipe away the undeniable truth. "Well... he caught us," Robert admitted, voice heavy. "No use hiding it now. We really messed up, Lilith." James''s jaw clenched, his grip tightening around his gun. "So while you were busy with your little rendezvous, Edwin managed to slip right through your fingers. That''s your story?" "Yes, it is!" Robert pressed, desperate now. "Give us a chance to fix our mistake. We''ll join you and look for Edwin together. So lower your gun, and let''s hurry up already." James shook his head, distrust hardening his features. "I can''t trust you, Robert. In fact, I never have. You''ve always been the joker, the nice guy. Honestly, it makes more sense that you helped the kid." His finger hovered closer to the trigger, his resolve as cemented as the walls surrounding them. "Enough!" Cenilera''s voice rang through the corridor like a whip crack. "Every second we waste bickering is another second Edwin gets farther away. Besides, it''s Albert''s call to execute us-not yours." James exhaled sharply, his frustration a barely restrained flame. His cheeks flushed with anger; she was right, and he hated it. Control was slipping from his grasp the moment Albert''s name entered the conversation. "Fine," he growled, though it was clear he wasn''t conceding-just shifting tactics. "Just so you know, you''re both prisoners now. Robert, hand over your gun. If you don''t, I''ll put a bullet in your head right now and personally report you both to Albert." Silence stretched between them, taut as a drawn wire. Robert met James''s eyes, searching for any trace of hesitation. There was none. Slowly, he unclipped his holster, the weight of the firearm feeling heavier than ever. With measured reluctance, he handed it over. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. James took it without a word, the steel glinting under the dim overhead lights. "Just so you know," James muttered, his voice low and edged with something dark, "Albert is taking out all his rage on me right now. He threatened to exile me to the outer wall." His nostrils flared. "I was supposed to be watching that damn kid, and yet I left him alone with you two." His grip tightened around the gun. "So don''t test me. I''m way past my boiling point." The unspoken threat lingered between them like the scent of impending blood. Then James''s gaze hardened. "Listen, Robert. We both know something doesn''t add up. I may not know you well enough to call you a friend, but I know your work ethic. You wouldn''t abandon your post for a quick screw. So tell me the truth¡ªwhile you still can." The tension in Cenilera''s throat turned suffocating, the weight of her guilt pressing down on her. She knew deep down, James didn¡¯t buy their story. "It was my fault," she admitted, voice quiet but unwavering. "I thought l''d put Edwin under with another tranquilizer shot... but somehow, he woke up. I didn''t realize we''d screwed up until the alarm started going off." Her gaze flickered downward, shame coiling in her gut. "I shouldn''t have taken Robert away from his post." She lifted her eyes, smirking just enough to sell the lie. "But... a woman has her needs." James scoffed, disbelief flickering in his eyes. Then, to their surprise, the hard lines of his face cracked just slightly-an incredulous, humorless smile ghosting over his lips. A tense silence settled between them, stretching uncomfortably in the dimly lit corridor. The walls, once sterile and unremarkable, now seemed to press in, amplifying the suffocating weight of the conversation. Every flickering light overhead cast restless shadows, turning the cold metal beneath their feet into something more treacherous. James exhaled, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "Next time, call someone to guard the room, alright? Even if you put him under with another shot, a bit of professional advice: don¡¯t leave a high-priority patient alone. Either of you could¡¯ve called me, and I would¡¯ve guarded the kid while you two did your thing." Robert shifted uncomfortably, the accusation heavy despite the casual delivery. He rubbed a hand down his face, his nerves wearing thin. "Enough, please. This is already uncomfortable. Us standing here chatting isn¡¯t helping anything. We need to focus on finding the damn kid." James raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth tilting upward in a knowing smirk. "You¡¯re catching up, Robert. Good thing I already know where he is." A chill ran down Robert¡¯s spine. Cenilera¡¯s breath caught in her throat, her fingers twitching at her sides. The sudden shift in James¡¯s confidence felt like a noose tightening around them. "He¡¯s outside for sure right now," James continued, his voice dropping to a low, calculated tone. "Even if he isn¡¯t yet, he has to go out to escape from Albert completely. We¡¯ve already sent word to all the outposts, alerting them about the escape and to expect a visitor. Albert provided the kid¡¯s picture and sent additional men to the mid and inner wall. I doubt he¡¯s in Midfallen, though. It¡¯s only been an hour since his escape, and we all know he¡¯s unfamiliar with the compound." Robert¡¯s pulse quickened. "So, what are you doing down here then?" James¡¯s smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with something dark. "Besides looking for you two? I¡¯m planning to use the tunnel to reach the gate he¡¯ll run into. When I find that kid, I¡¯m going to snap both of his legs so he can never run away again." Cenilera gasped, horrified. "That¡¯s too harsh, James! The boy has suffered enough already. When he¡¯s caught, his suffering will continue anyways. Why add to his pain?" James¡¯s expression darkened, his posture rigid. "Because," he said, voice cold, "someone needs to teach him that he can¡¯t escape. We all saw how quickly he healed. No one can do that. The kid is dangerous. He can handle two broken legs and maybe a broken spine for extra security. You can¡¯t control someone like him without fear." Silence fell, thick and suffocating. Robert felt his hands clench into fists at his sides, struggling to keep his anger in check. James took a step forward, his presence looming. "It¡¯s time we get a move on. Let¡¯s go get that bastard." Robert swallowed hard, forcing his expression into neutrality. "Sorry, uh, I have to run¡­ because I don¡¯t have my armor on," he said, voice strained with forced nonchalance. James narrowed his eyes. "Go then. We¡¯ll just be up ahead. Catch up to us in the tunnel or outside. Just be quick. You better not come back armed. I¡¯ll be checking you. Robert hesitated. "Wait until I get back. It¡¯s just down the hall." James shook his head, impatience clear in his every movement. "We¡¯ll be wasting time. You go get it, then catch up." Robert exchanged a glance with Cenilera, silent understanding passing between them. She nodded, just enough to affirm their unspoken plan. James, none the wiser, took it as confirmation of Robert¡¯s compliance. "Just be quick, and remember¡ªif you¡¯re planning something, your girlfriend¡¯s within shooting range." Robert forced a tight-lipped smile, though his chest burned with barely contained rage. "Got it." With one last glance at Cenilera, he turned on his heel and strode away. His heart pounded in his chest, each step carrying the weight of what had to be done. He wasn¡¯t going to let James get to Edwin first. No matter the cost. Chapter 17: Something Wicked James¡¯s flashlight flickered, casting trembling beams of light through the suffocating darkness of the tunnel. The usual strip lights along the walls were barely functional, their feeble glow swallowed by the shadows pressing in from all sides. The damp air hung thick, carrying the faint, acrid scent of mildew and decay. Each step they took echoed softly, the sound absorbed by the oppressive blackness that seemed to stretch endlessly ahead. Beside him, Cenilera moved with a quiet grace, her eyes scanning the unseen peripheries. The silence between them was palpable, a living entity that thrived in the unspoken words and shared uncertainties. ¡°Ever been down here before?¡± James¡¯s voice, low and rough, cut through the gloom, momentarily disturbing the heavy quiet. ¡°Once,¡± she murmured, her words as distant as her gaze. ¡°During a drill.¡± James nodded absently, his grip tightening around the flashlight. ¡°This tunnel used to lead out to the base of the hill. They smoothed the path, got rid of the incline. Easier for everyone to pass through now.¡± He flicked a glance at her, watching the way her features were carved in soft lines of thought. ¡°Not exactly thrilling conversation, huh?¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s fine,¡± she said, though there was a hollowness to it. Her voice, soft as it was, carried an edge of something unreadable. Regret? Guilt? ¡°Just¡­ thinking.¡± James studied her for a moment before offering a quiet reassurance. ¡°He¡¯ll be along soon enough. Don¡¯t worry about him.¡± But the way she exhaled, slow and measured, told him she wasn¡¯t convinced. She shifted her stance. ¡°How¡¯d you end up here, James?¡± A half-smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. ¡°Believe it or not, I was in college when all this started. Starting late, trying to make something of myself. Had a shot at being an athlete.¡± Cenilera turned her head slightly, as if trying to picture him in another life. ¡°And how does that lead to¡­ this?¡± ¡°Survival,¡± he said simply. ¡°When things went to hell, I stuck with some teammates. We grabbed whatever we could use¡ªgloves, bats, hockey sticks. Stripped the leather for makeshift armor. If they couldn¡¯t bite us, they couldn¡¯t turn us.¡± She blinked, the ghost of admiration flickering in her expression. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ clever.¡± He shrugged, though her words stirred something in him. ¡°There were five of us. We stuck together for two years out there, moving from ruin to ruin. Then we heard about the wall. Two hundred miles to get here.¡± A dry laugh escaped him. ¡°Hell of a journey.¡± ¡°Did you all make it?¡± His expression darkened, shadows settling over his face. ¡°All but one.¡± He hesitated. ¡°Jason. He was¡­ different. Could¡¯ve been anything. A born athlete. Natural leader. The kind of guy everyone wanted to be.¡± Cenilera reached out, her hand a whisper of warmth against his arm. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. He sounds remarkable. I¡¯m sure he¡¯s still with you, watching over you.¡± A bitter chuckle escaped him. ¡°Don¡¯t go all spiritual on me, Doc. If he¡¯s watching, it¡¯s not from Heaven. God¡¯s locked those gates, sent His monsters to clean up what¡¯s left.¡± Her jaw tightened. ¡°If Jason was even half as good as you say, then God made an exception.¡± James exhaled sharply, shaking his head. ¡°He was more than good, Doc. He was a damn prodigy.¡± His voice thickened, raw with something unspoken. ¡°He¡­ sacrificed himself. Bought us time to get away.¡± A heavy silence settled between them, thick as the air pressing against the tunnel walls. Cenilera didn¡¯t push him, didn¡¯t ask for more. She just waited. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°We holed up in a house after he¡­ after it happened. Thought we were safe. Solid place. Three exits, four if you counted the balcony. Took turns watching the streets, waiting. But then¡­¡± His jaw clenched. ¡°We started hearing them.¡± Her expression grew still, her eyes dark. ¡°Hearing them?¡± ¡°They were calling to each other,¡± James murmured. ¡°Their cries¡­ they weren¡¯t random. They echoed down the streets, answering back from miles away.¡± Doctor Cenilera¡¯s voice was low, almost conspiratorial, but the flicker of a smirk hinted at an attempt to lighten the weight of their grim reality. ¡°Before we had the walls, we discovered that covering ourselves in a revolting scent could mask us almost completely from them. But hearing? Their sense of hearing is otherworldly.¡± James scoffed, shaking his head. ¡°They¡¯re like¡­ improved, primitive versions of us. Strong, fast, full of energy, with senses that put ours to shame¡ªexcept for their blindness.¡± His voice hardened, tinged with bitterness. ¡°And what are we? Barely surviving. There¡¯s only a handful of us left here, and we can¡¯t even farm enough to feed everyone. Potatoes¡­ that¡¯s all we¡¯ve really got.¡± Cenilera¡¯s expression softened, but concern laced her words. ¡°I¡¯ve heard things about the outer walls¡ªrising crime, vandalism. People are getting desperate in the outskirts.¡± James hesitated, his expression shifting. A pause stretched between them, weighted and uncertain. Then, in a low voice, he said, ¡°Doc¡­ there¡¯s something I need to tell you.¡± Her brows lifted slightly. ¡°What is it?¡± He exhaled, running a hand through his hair, as if bracing himself. ¡°The dead aren¡¯t our only problem. There are¡­ things out there.¡± A chill settled over her, creeping in like an unwelcome presence. ¡°What kind of things?¡± James¡¯s gaze turned distant, his voice dropping. ¡°It goes back to my group. You see¡ª¡± He hesitated, eyes darkening as he dredged up the memory. ¡°We lasted a year together. No losses. Thought we¡¯d beat the odds.¡± A hollow chuckle escaped him. ¡°Then we went through a mall.¡± He inhaled sharply, as if the air itself carried the weight of what came next. ¡°We were cutting across the ground floor, quiet as we could be, when Jason¡ªour leader¡ªheard voices up ahead. He crept forward, thinking it was survivors. Once we got close enough, he turned on his flashlight, and there was this¡­ man.¡± James swallowed. ¡°Clean. Well-dressed for an apocalypse, even. But he wasn¡¯t alone. He was hunched over¡­ eating a corpse.¡± Cenilera¡¯s breath caught. James¡¯s voice grew quieter, thick with something close to fear. ¡°The man turned, and his eyes¡­ they glowed red.¡± His fists clenched at the memory. ¡°Then the shadows moved, and out came the dead. But they didn¡¯t lurch like mindless corpses. They responded to him. Like pets.¡± Cenilera shook her head, disbelief warring with the instinctual dread curling in her stomach. ¡°That¡¯s impossible. No zombie can take orders. They¡¯re¡ª¡± ¡°Mindless?¡± James finished bitterly. ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s what we thought too.¡± His jaw tightened. ¡°But they obeyed him.¡± He paused, as if even saying it aloud made it more real. ¡°And then, from above, his partner appeared. A woman¡ªfast as lightning. She disarmed us in seconds, threw us down like we were nothing. And she called him ¡®King.¡¯¡± His voice grew taut, strained. ¡°And when he gave a command¡­ they listened.¡± Cenilera stared at him, searching his face for exaggeration, for some sign that this was just another survivor¡¯s paranoia spun into myth. But James wasn¡¯t the type to embellish. His expression was carved from raw truth. ¡°You¡¯re saying they were¡­ sentient? Talking?¡± ¡°Not just talking. Commanding.¡± His knuckles were white. ¡°The man looked at us, grinning, like we were toys. And he said, ¡®It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve seen any humans. I¡¯ve been itching to test something out.¡¯¡± A shudder ran through her. ¡°How¡­ how did you escape?¡± James¡¯s throat bobbed with the effort of swallowing. ¡°Jason. He was the kind of guy who¡¯d throw himself into the fire for his people. He took his shot¡ªswept the woman¡¯s legs out from under her, pinned her, and shouted for us to run. We didn¡¯t look back. We ran until we collapsed in some house blocks away, too terrified to even speak about what we¡¯d seen.¡± Silence settled between them, heavy and suffocating. James¡¯s voice was barely above a whisper when he added, ¡°That was years ago. Jason never made it back.¡± Cenilera reached for words, some kind of reassurance, but James cut her off before she could offer a fragile hope. ¡°Don¡¯t.¡± His voice was low, strained, trembling on the edge of something he had kept buried for too long. ¡°I watched my closest friend sacrifice himself like he was nothing. And I wasn¡¯t man enough to go back for him.¡± His breath hitched, but he forced himself to finish. ¡°He¡¯s dead, Doc. Even if he survived that day, no one survives out there.¡± ¡°But talking dead?¡± she murmured, still wrestling with the impossibility of it. ¡°If they could be controlled, we wouldn¡¯t be hiding like rats in a trap. We¡¯d be safe behind our walls.¡± James¡¯s patience snapped. ¡°Doc, you don¡¯t get it!¡± His voice cracked with raw emotion. ¡°I don¡¯t care if it sounds insane! It happened. I watched my friend lay down his life. And whatever we met that day¡ªit wasn¡¯t just a zombie. It was a monster.¡± His words came rough, choked with grief held in too long. He took a breath, trying to steady himself. ¡°The reason I¡¯m bringing this up¡ª¡± Then, footsteps. The echo rang through the tunnel. Slow. Deliberate. James froze, and for the first time since she had known him, Cenilera saw fear grip him¡ªnot just the cautious fear of a survivor, but something deeper. Something wicked. The tunnel felt colder. The silence before had been eerie, but now¡­ now it was suffocating. James¡¯s hand went to his weapon, but his fingers hovered over it, hesitant. As if he already knew it wouldn¡¯t help. Cenilera¡¯s heartbeat pounded against her ribs. The footsteps drew closer, seemingly coming from every direction. And then, the light at the far end of the tunnel flickered. Once. Twice. Then¡ªdarkness. Chapter 18: The Freak In Paradise The run had felt endless-an unforgiving sprint through suffocating damp shadows, driven by desperation and a singular hope that the end of the tunnel would lead to something more than just another cage. But then, at last, light. A distant glimmer, weak at first, then growing, swelling into a golden promise. I stumbled forward, gasping for air, my body aching from the strain. The tunnel''s exit loomed before me, opening at the base of the mountain that housed the Compound. No guards. No sirens. Just... silence. Is this really happening? I crouched just inside the tunnel''s mouth, my breath unsteady, heart hammering against my ribs. The taste of iron clung to my tongue, the ghost of exhaustion weighing down my limbs. For the first time in what felt like eternity, I wasn''t being hunted. I wasn''t shackled, tested, or trapped. Yet, the momentary relief twisted into something ugly-guilt. I had left them behind. Are they alright? My mind spiraled, grasping at fleeting images of Robert, Cenilera, even James-faces frozen in time, caught between survival and sacrifice. Were they still alive? Had Albert discovered their involvement? Had James¡ª I didn¡¯t hear a gunshot¡­ so maybe they¡¯re just in custody. I shouldn¡¯t think the worst¡­ I knew that I had no other choice than to leave them behind. If I had stayed, they would¡¯ve been confirmed as the traitors and Albert would¡¯ve had them executed. Clenching my fists, I whispered under my breath, "I''ll make sure I get out of here¡ªfor them." Steeling myself, I stepped forward. The moment my foot left the tunnel and touched the earth beyond, warmth embraced me-soft, unfamiliar. The sky stretched endlessly above, an expanse of brilliant blue streaked with wisps of white. The sun, burning high above, poured golden light onto the landscape, bathing everything in a glow so gentle, so foreign and warm, it almost hurt. Lush green surrounded me, vibrant and alive, nothing like the sterile, clinical whites and grays of the Compound. Leaves rustled with a breeze so light it barely felt real. The air tasted cleaner, sweeter. I finally reached it. I took a step, then another, my body protesting, as if afraid this was a trick¡ªa dream I would wake from, strapped to a metal table once more. But the wind didn''t disappear. The scent of wildflowers didn''t fade. The sun didn''t flicker like the Compound''s harsh fluorescents. This is real. The descent took time. The incline was steep, the underbrush thick, but I pushed forward, each movement forcing me to leave behind the world I had known. After what felt like forever, the dense foliage parted, revealing what lay beyond. I froze. A city. Not ruins. Not crumbling remains of what once was. But a living, breathing city, brimming with life. People moved through the streets in effortless harmony-men and women dressed in flowing clothes of striking colors, children laughing, running between them, their voices light and carefree. The architecture was unlike anything I had ever seen-tall, sprawling buildings of smooth, gleaming stone, their surfaces catching the sunlight like glass. The streets stretched wide, brimming with vendors, shops, people going about their daily lives as if the world beyond these walls had never ended. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Everything was too clean. Too bright. Too perfect. It was overwhelming. Alien. The Compound had been nothing but steel and suffering. Sharp corners. Narrow corridors. The constant hum of machines, of orders barked through speakers. The clatter of boots against cold, tiled floors. Here, everything was soft. Vibrant. Alive. "I heard Doctor Cenilera''s stories about the world beyond the Compound," I murmured to myself. "But hearing them and seeing them... it''s not the same." A sudden voice broke through my thoughts. "Daddy, look! It''s a Scout!" I turned sharply. A child pointed at me, eyes wide with wonder, clutching the hand of an older man in stiff, pristine attire. Not his father¡ªhis butler. I didn''t know how I could tell, but I just knew. This wasn''t just a city. It was a world separate from the compound, separated from the worries and threats beyond the walls. Paradise. And no one here knew who l was. No one looked at me with recognition. With fear. With the cold, clinical assessment of a scientist measuring results. For the first time in my life, I was a stranger. The wrongness of it gnawed at my skin, but I shoved it aside, forcing myself forward. I needed information. I needed a plan. A crowd funneled into a street lined with glittering storefronts, the kind I had only seen in the fragments of old books. My feet carried me along with them, drawn to the shimmering objects displayed behind thick glass. Jewelry, watches, intricate trinkets that served no function but to exist. They sparkled under delicate lighting, absurdly beautiful. A part of me wanted to press my fingers to the glass just to feel if they were real. I exhaled. "It''s so beautiful out here," I whispered, almost breathless. I had escaped the Compound. And I had stepped into paradise. But something deep inside me whispered¡ª Paradise always has a price. And so the illusion didn¡¯t last. No matter how much I tried to pretend I was just another person in an ordinary place, the truth clawed at the edges of my awareness, refusing to be ignored. The towering wall loomed in my periphery, an unyielding reminder of where I was ¡ªand how far I still had to go. If I wanted to escape, I had to keep moving. Searching. A crack in the foundation, an overlooked gate, anything. And if I couldn''t find one... perhaps l''d need to summon that strange power again-the one Albert''s experiments had carved into my very being. I have to rely on myself. My right hand curled into a fist as I glanced down at it. Then, slowly, I uncurled my fingers, willing something-anything-to happen. But my arm remained unchanged. No glow. No grotesque shift of flesh. Just my own hand, ordinary and weak. The surge of strength l''d felt in the lab was gone. I kept walking, slipping past the hordes of servants at every market stall and crowded eating areas as I moved toward the wall until it loomed over me. Voices-low, steady, at least ten or eleven of them. I stopped, straining to make out their words. They weren''t moving. A gate? Maybe. Or an ambush. If only I could hear them. The hairs on the back of my neck rose. I needed higher ground to see. Scanning the area, I spotted a building nearby¡ª old, crumbling, but tall enough to give me a vantage point. A fuse box jutted from the wall, just high enough to use as a foothold. I took a breath and jumped. But what happened next wasn''t normal. The instant my feet left the ground, something ignited inside me¡ªan unnatural force surging through my limbs. Instead of a controlled leap, I shot into the air, weightless and untethered. Ten feet into the air. The rooftop rushed toward me, and I slammed down hard, the impact jolting through my spine. Pain flared up my back, sharp and searing. I bit back a curse, rolling onto my side. "What the hell was that?" I whispered, pressing a hand to my ribs. The pain was already dulling, ebbing away faster than it should have. ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡± a gruff voice barked, shattering the quiet. I scrambled upright, adrenaline taking over. Without thinking, I jumped again-this time landing squarely on the rooftop. My breath hitched as I flattened myself against the cold surface, peering over the edge. Below, a guard rounded the corner, his hand hovering over his holster. His eyes swept the area, searching for me. I pressed lower, muscles locked, breath held. Thump! Thump! Thump! My heartbeat pounded in my ears, drowning out everything else. "I heard something¡ªa thud. It sounded heavy." "Well, I don''t see anything," the second guard replied, exasperation lacing his tone. "And we''re supposed to be watching the gate. It''s not like the kid can climb the damn wall." Apstra hesitated. I could hear the doubt in his silence, the way he shifted his weight from foot to foot. Then, at last, he muttered something under his breath and turned away. I stayed motionless, listening, waiting. When I was sure they had left, I moved. Sliding across the rooftop, I edged toward the far side, keeping low, keeping silent. The gate loomed ahead, it was massive. Impenetrable. Yet it was the only way out. The only thing standing between me and freedom. A cold wind swept through the streets below, but I barely felt it. My hands trembled, the rush of adrenaline still thrumming through my veins. I looked down at them. At the fingers that had clenched scalpels, fought restraints, clawed against the agony of Albert''s experiments. They didn''t feel like my own anymore. "What am I becoming?" | whispered. The mutation. The strength. The unnatural power humming beneath my skin. It was all proof. Proof that I wasn''t a person anymore. I was something else. "A freak," I murmured, the word tasting like rust on my tongue. The thought should have crushed me. Should have left me cold. But instead, something else burned in my chest¡ªa flicker of resolve. I will escape from here even if I have to fight my way out. Chapter 19: The Beast I leapt across the gap, soaring to the next rooftop, landing in a crouch near the edge. The city lay under me, alive with sounds I could hardly comprehend¡ªfootsteps, muffled voices, orders barked in clipped tones. My senses had begun to sharpen, though it was hard to tell whether this change was a blessing or a curse. I could hear them now, the guards combing through the alleyways below. I could hear the metallic scrape of their weapons, and worst of all, I could hear Albert¡¯s voice nearby as well. Just the sound of his voice set my nerves off like fireworks. I began to focus on their voices, slowing muting out everyone but Albert. It slithered into my ears like poison, precise and unhurried, laced with quiet authority. Through the murmur of guards and shouts of citizens, I caught his words clearly. "I believe this to be the gate he plans to use," he said smoothly. "I leave the rest of my commands in your hands." I found him easily, standing outside a dimly lit building across the way, surveying the area like a man who had already won. His posture was composed, a figure of absolute control, as if this was nothing more than another calculated move in a game he never doubted he would win. I crouched lower, gripping the ledge. My heart pounded like a war drum. No more running. If they wanted a fight, l''d give them one. One way or another, I was getting past that wall. Tonight, this city would remember me in blood. I dropped soundlessly from the rooftop, landing in the long shadows cast by a rusting chain-link fence. Ahead, the gate loomed-tall. Five guards patrolled the entrance, their silhouettes shifting under the pale glow of overhead floodlights. More waited inside. No easy way through. My best bet is just a frontal assault. Doesn¡¯t look like anyone uses the gate enough to sneak through. One of the guards drifted closer, footsteps crunching over loose gravel. I let out a soft whistle-just enough to pull him in. The reaction was instant. "Who''s there?" The guard-Troy, judging by his vest-halted, his fingers twitching toward his gun. His voice carried just enough uncertainty to tell me he wasn''t expecting trouble. Good. I pressed my back to the wall as he stepped forward, scanning the dark. He moved cautiously, checking corners, sweeping his gaze over the fence line. His radio crackled, but he hesitated before responding. I could hear his breathing now, the slight hitch of unease. He exhaled through his nose, about to report back when I struck. Before he could radio anyone, I closed the distance, ghosting behind him. My fist connected with his ribs, cutting off his breath in a single, sharp exhale. He buckled, the radio slipping from his grip. I caught him before he hit the ground, lowering him silently into the shadows. One down. I melted into the shadow of the building, pressing against the cold, uneven wall. The night pulsed around me-muffled voices, the distant hum of engines, the slow, methodical pacing of boots on pavement. My senses stretched outward, sharpening in ways I still didn''t fully understand. Two guards were approaching the area where I was hidden. I crouched, coiling my muscles like a spring, feeling the raw power building inside me. Then¡ª release. I shot upward, higher than l''d intended, the wind howling past my ears. A miscalculation. The kind that could get me killed. I was still learning, still figuring out the limits of this body, this power. And right now, I was operating on nothing but instinct. Which was why, instead of landing on my intended target, I came crashing down on another guard entirely. 2nd one down. The air left his lungs in a choked gasp as he buckled beneath me. No time to apologize. I used the momentum to launch forward, my body twisting midair as I swiped at the second guard. He dodged. Not just a reflexive flinch¡ªa calculated movement. His feet shifted into a stance I didn''t recognize, but his posture told me everything I needed to know. He was trained. A fighter. Someone who knew exactly what he was doing. He smiled. Too smugly. "So you''re Edwin?" His voice was calm, measured. "Nice to meet you. My name is¡ª" "Doesn''t matter," | cut him off, already moving. "I don''t plan on learning names for people l''ll never see again." I feinted, thrusting a fist at his face. He moved, dodging right-predictable. I pulled back at the last second, pivoted, and drove my foot into his abdomen with a full swing. The impact sent him flying back two feet. More than I expected. I straightened, rolling my shoulders as he crumpled to the ground, unconscious. 3rd one down. "Told you it didn''t matter," I muttered, knowing full well he couldn''t hear me. But there was no time to gloat. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Bang! Bang! I staggered. A familiar warmth spread across my torso, thick and wet. Blood. I sucked in a breath, but the pain barely registered. Instead, something else took its place-anger. A thin line in my mind became razor-sharp, dividing me from something I couldn''t quite name. On the other side, everything was calm, peaceful, weightless. A quiet oblivion that called to me, whispered promises of release. I took a step forward. But something unseen stopped me from fully planting my foot over the line. Instead my foot just hovered past the line. ¡°We have Edwin in custody! Repeat, we got him in custody! All guards are to return to their stations.¡± One of the guards who shot me screamed into his radio, his tone sharp with relief. Bzzzzt! ¡°What the hell!?¡± He cried out. Bang! Bang! Bang! Something wasn¡¯t right. Why were they shooting? Who were they shooting? Bang! Bang! Bang! What happened? Bang! Bang! A shift. A ripple of something inside me¡ª something old, something angry. My skin burned. My muscles coiled like they weren''t my own. "He''s-he''s turning into a fucking monster! Forget our orders! Kill that thing!" The guard''s voice cracked in terror. My transformation was still incomplete. A guttural roar tore from my throat, not entirely human, not entirely beast-a raw, feral roar that shook the ground beneath us. The guards hesitated, their hands trembling over their triggers. Why do they look so small? I rose, my body towering over them, limbs heavy with power I barely recognized. The world blurred at the edges, distorted. My vision pulsed red. ¡°Roaaaaarrrr!¡± The guards flinched, wide-eyed. That¡¯s weird, what happened to me? Why can¡¯t I see straight? ¡°I¡¯m calling it in! Hold him off!¡± Bang! Bang! Bang! ¡°Ahhhh!¡± "This is Sanchez! The kid''s awake! He played us-" I swung. My grotesque, shifting arm cleaved through the air and slammed into the guard holding the radio. His body hurtled backward, crashing against the metal gate with a sickening crunch. 4th one down. One left. The last remaining guard stumbled, his hands fumbling to reload his weapon. Too slow. A grin cracked across my face, something deep inside me reveling in his terror. Dark, smoky tendrils of black flames slithered from my lips, flickering with unnatural life. Boom! Boom! My steps shook the earth as l advanced. The guards inside the gate snapped to attention, falling into formation. A line of rifles trained on the entrance. And at the center of it all, Albert stood, composed, calculating, one hand raised in command. "Don''t shoot all at once," he instructed, his tone almost casual. "I need him alive. But if he does anything funny.." He gestured with a flick of his fingers. "Feel free to take him out." With a hard kick, the steel gates flung open. A heavy silence pursued as they all took in the scene before them. I was almost completely fused with a monstrous beast. Only my torso and the right side of my face recognizable. The rest? A grotesque nightmare. Albert¡¯s voice rang out, demanding attention from all the guards. His expression was unreadable. ¡°Edwin!¡± His voice rang with the authority of a man who believed he still held control. I stepped forward, the ground trembling beneath me. My hands clenched into fists, claws scraping against my palm. ¡°Albert!¡± I roared back, stepping towards him. ¡°You¡¯re not stopping me here. I¡¯m getting out of this hell.¡± My voice shook the air itself. He tilted his head slightly, as if studying me. For a fleeting second, something flashed in his eyes. Pity?¡ªor worse, satisfaction¡ªcurling his lips. "Edwin," he sighed. "You should know you can''t escape. You''re outnumbered. Give up this foolishness and return with me at once." I smirked. A deep, primal thing uncoiled in my chest, filling my veins with something unstoppable. "Maybe I am outnumbered." My voice dropped, thick with defiance. "But you''re all outmatched." The challenge I directed at them hit with force. Albert pulled his gun and fired, however it seemed slow, as if I was faster than before, quicker than I even knew. I dodged the first shot, almost grinning¡ªuntil the second and third found their mark. The bullets tore through the soft not fully formed flesh of the beast. Albert aimed and accurately shot my joints. A sharp, searing agony exploded through my joints. My leg buckled causing me to stumble, pain crackling through my nerves with a hiss of frustration. I was brought down and forced to kneel before my father. Albert stepped forward, his gun still smoking, his expression cold. "You got faster," he mused. "Impressive, Edwin." His voice was almost... amused. "But I still have twenty men here, all of them trained on you. Do you really believe you can get past us?" I lifted my head, my breath ragged, my monstrous limbs twitching as they struggled to reform. And I grinned. Albert had just made a mistake. He assumed this fight was his to control. He assumed I still played by his rules. But he had no idea what I had become. I pushed myself up, ignoring the pain that ripped through my leg like fire. Every breath felt like shards of glass in my lungs, but I couldn''t stop now. Not when the gate to my freedom stood just beyond the line of guns aimed at my heart. "I have to believe there''s something better than this miserable life you''ve forced me into." My voice came out hoarse but steady, a final declaration against the man who had stolen everything from me. Albert''s expression darkened, his jaw tightening as if he were trying to swallow some bitter truth. Then, a slow, measured breath. Cold resolve. ¡°Sorry to disappoint you, Edwin. Beyond these walls, there¡¯s nothing but hell waiting. Losing you would be the final blow to humanity, to our survival.¡± He raised his hand¡ª His fingers twitched. The guards tensed, bodies coiled like springs, waiting for the command they feared as much as they anticipated. ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯ll do anything¡ªanything¡ªto keep you here. Guards¡­ Fire!¡± In that instant, I could see their fingers closing around triggers, the flicker of hesitation in some and ruthless resolve in others. Every muscle in my body screamed to move. I saw the moment their grips tightened, the way their fingers curled around cold metal. Some hesitated-just for a second-but others didn''t. The barrels gleamed under the gentle light of the sun, each one aimed to end me. I bent low, ignoring my muscles that screamed and protested. Much to their surprise, I launched myself high into the sky. The ground shattered beneath me as I came crashing down, the sheer force sending a shockwave through the formation. Guards toppled like dominos, some thrown back, others dropping their weapons in fear. The air was thick with dust, with panic-with my chance. This was it¡ªthe last chance to prove I could break free, even if it cost me everything. I hurled myself forward, every ounce of my strength driving me toward it. I need them all in one place. It''s time to end this! BANG! The world slowed. No one was near me. But I heard the shot. A crack split through the air. And then¡ª White-hot pain. Despite no one being near me, I heard it clearly in my face at point blank range. A gun fired and immediately a bullet, precise and deliberate, found the gap between the shifting plates of bone-like armor shielding my face. It tore through my forehead. For an instant, everything was silent. Then¡ª The world turned red. I was falling. Somewhere, through the roaring in my head, something else screamed. The beast. Not in pain¡ª In fury. A monstrous sound ripped through the air, deeper, darker than before. And as my consciousness faded, swallowed by the abyss¡ª I felt it rise and I embraced it. Update Sorry everyone, I got sick and have been in and out of sleep for idk how long. I feel really out of it at the moment but I will do my best to publish the next chapter either tomorrow or the next day. I want to apologize for not being able to keep to my schedule and even worse now, I¡¯ll be a few days behind. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Sadly I have to have 500 words minimum to post this update. Not sure if there¡¯s another way for Authors to notify you guys when we¡¯re out sick or other stuff. Thank you for understanding! Hopefully tomorrow I can release Chapter 20: Aftermath Of The Beast. Chapter 20: A Monster’s Requiem The footsteps behind them picked up their pace, shifting from hurried taps to the full-bodied thud of a sprint. The sound echoed down the tunnel, thick with the weight of desperation. James tensed, his grip tightening around his pistol as he raised it, finger hovering over the trigger. Cenilera barely had time to brace herself behind him before a shadow lunged from around the bend. The flashlight beam slashed through the darkness¡ª Robert skidded to a stop, throwing up a hand. His face, caught in the harsh glare, twisted in irritation. "James! Are you trying to blind me?" With a grunt, James lowered the gun. ¡°Perfect timing. I was just wrapping up storytime anyway.¡± He clicked off the safety and turned the flashlight down the path ahead, signaling they needed to keep moving. Cenilera exhaled slowly, her pulse still unsteady from the tension. Her mind, however, was occupied by something else entirely. "The story," she murmured, glancing at Robert. "You know it too, don''t you?" Robert dusted off his jacket, nodding. "Let me guess-James gave you his grand retelling of the King of the Dead?" He shot James a wry smile before turning serious. "I''ve heard it before. Albert believes in him, you know." Cenilera stiffened. "Albert?" She searched Robert''s face, waiting for a smirk or some hint that he was joking. "He wouldn''t..." "Seems impossible, doesn''t it?" Robert said, voice quiet. "But he''s been tracking the rumors. Studying them. Trying to make sense of what we''re up against." James scoffed, but there was no humor in it. He turned, fixing Cenilera with a look that pinned her in place. "Listen to me, Doc," he said, voice low and sharp. "I know what I saw. That thing wasn''t a man. It wasn''t just another Wicked. It looked me in the eye, killed my brother, and called itself a king." The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. Cenilera felt the weight of his words settle into her bones. Robert was the first to move. He reached out, gripping James''s shoulder in a firm but steadying hold. "Come on," he said. "We need to keep going." James inhaled sharply, chest rising and falling in a controlled attempt to rein in his emotions. Finally, he nodded, turning on his heel and marching ahead. Cenilera watched him, something stirring deep in her chest. She had always seen James as cold, irreverent, someone who carried himself with an air of unshakable certainty. But now, in the dim tunnel light, she saw him differently-his pain raw, his loyalty unwavering, his courage carved from loss. For the first time, she understood why he followed Albert so blindly. And why that terrified her. ¡°Robert, what did you go back for?¡± James demanded. ¡°I went back for a vest and one of our expedition backpacks.¡± Robert responded. ¡°You didn¡¯t grab a weapon, right? Just know I still don¡¯t trust you.¡± ¡°Yeah, I know.¡± They walked in silence, the tunnel stretching endlessly before them. Each step felt heavier than the last, thoughts lingering in the stale underground air. When they finally reached the exit, a gust of cold air rushed in, cutting through their clothes and biting at their skin. Above, the sky stretched gray and endless, thick with the promise of the oncoming winter. Robert let out a low whistle. "What a difference out here." He pulled his coat tighter, exhaling a cloud of mist. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. James shook his head, stretching his stiff legs. ¡°That tunnel went on forever.¡± Cenilera barely noticed the cold. Her eyes scanned the barren landscape, an unease settling deep in her chest. "So... what now? Do we split up?" "You two would love that, wouldn''t you?" James said, unimpressed. "We stick together until you''re proven innocent." Before anyone could respond, James¡¯s radio crackled to life, interrupting them. "We have Edwin in custody! Repeat, we got him in custody! All guards are to return to their stations." Cenilera froze. Her stomach twisted violently. ¡°Edwin?¡± James let out a relieved chuckle, smirking as he clipped the radio back onto his belt. "Finally. For a second there, I thought l''d be sent to the outskirts on his account. Let''s head back the way we came." Robert, however, held up a hand, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon. "Hang on. I''ll join the escort team. He might still have some fight left in him." Cenilera swallowed hard, forcing her voice to stay steady. "They could probably use a doctor. I''m sure Edwin didn''t go down easily." James rolled his eyes. ¡°If you¡¯re both going, then I¡¯m in too. Can¡¯t have you showing me up.¡± Robert shrugged, but there was an edge to his voice as he glanced a wary expression towards Cenilera. "I''m not trying to show anyone up. Councilor Albert authorized lethal force for a reason-Edwin''s dangerous. We don''t know what he''s capable of." James scoffed but nodded in agreement. "Fine. Let''s go, and try not to dawdle." They moved quickly, boots crunching against the dirt as they fell into step, James taking the lead. The daylight did little to warm the air, but it illuminated everything-every abandoned checkpoint, every cracked road, the distant shape of the eastern barricades that loomed against the horizon. Cenilera''s hands curled into fists at her sides, her unease growing with each step. After a few minutes, James pulled out his radio. "This is James. Requesting location for Edwin''s capture. Heading there with Robert and a doctor." A moment of silence passed before the radio buzzed with static. Screams and explosions crackled through the line, the sounds of chaos filling the air. "This is Sanchez! The kid''s awake! He played us-" The transmission cut off abruptly, replaced by a burst of static. In the distance, a plume of smoke raced up the sky, the smoke spiraling upward. After a few seconds a loud boom followed. Robert''s face tightened. "That''s gotta be the east gate. We''ve got to move." James''s expression darkened. "It''s at least ten minutes if we sprint... maybe longer." Cenilera barely registered their words. Her pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out everything but the panic clawing its way up her throat. "What is happening over there?" James didn''t hesitate. His voice was grave, certain. "The fight for humanity." He met her gaze. "And Edwin''s at the center of it." The closer they got, the worse it became. The distant cracks of gunfire became a storm of chaos-shouts, screams, the relentless thunder of battle. The acrid scent of smoke mixed with the coppery sting of blood. The radio sparked again. "Squad 77, Three minutes to the gate! There''s gunfire¡ª is the kid still fighting? It sounds like a war zone!" Cenilera felt her breath hitch. The thought of Edwin, alone, surrounded by all this-her hands trembled at her sides. "So many people will need medical help... but I don''t have my equipment-" Robert gave her a steady look. "Not everyone will need your tools, just do what you can and that should be enough." James let out a breathy chuckle despite the tension. "Smooth, Robert. The doc''s got herself a knight." "Knock it off," Robert muttered. "This is serious." Cenilera gave a small, fleeting smile, but her gaze was fixed ahead-on the smoke that filled the air, the fire lighting up the ever gloomy sky in a shade of orange, the war raging just beyond their sight. They pushed forward, urgency thrumming in their veins, their breaths sharp and ragged. The world had narrowed to the pounding of their boots against the cracked pavement, the sting of cold air searing their throats as they ran. The east gate loomed ahead, its towering structure bathed in the flickering glow of firelight. Then¡ª Everything went quiet as they crossed the final stretch, the scene that unfolded before them pulled them to a halt. Devastation. The battlefield sprawled before them like a grotesque painting of ruin and despair. Bodies littered the ground in grotesque contortions, some twisted at angles no living thing should bend. The broken remains of armor gleamed dully in the dim light, shattered helmets split open like discarded husks. Blood pooled in thick, glistening rivulets, painting the earth in deep, arterial reds. It soaked into the dirt, filling the air with a sickly iron tang that clung to the back of the throat. Smoke curled through the air in lazy, choking spirals, twisting into the sky like the breath of some unseen beast. Black flames burned in scattered pockets, their embers snapping in the wind, casting ghostly shadows over the carnage. The air itself was thick with it¡ªthe acrid sting of melted metal, the burnt stench of flesh, the raw, unmistakable scent of blood. It was everywhere. Clinging to their skin. Infiltrating their lungs. Cenilera''s stomach twisted violently. She forced down the bile rising in her throat, her fingers curling into fists. This wasn''t just a battle. This was a massacre. James exhaled sharply, his usually sharp tongue rendered useless in the face of such horror. His eyes, hardened by years of service, swept across the bodies, cataloging the damage with the precision of a man accustomed to war. And yet, even he hesitated. Robert¡¯s boots crunched over the debris as he stepped forward, his expression unreadable. He knelt beside the nearest fallen soldier¡ªa man whose chest had been torn open as though something had clawed through his armor like paper. James dragged a hand through his hair, slowly. "Hell of a way to go." Cenilera swallowed past the tight knot in her throat and forced herself to step forward, past the pools of congealing blood. A guard nearby twitched, gurgling, his chest rising in shallow, wheezing gasps. She dropped to her knees beside him, hands already moving on instinct, searching for the source of the wound. But the damage was too severe-deep lacerations, ribs shattered, internal bleeding evident in the way his skin had taken on a deathly pallor. His lips parted, a wet, broken sound escaping as he tried to speak. Cenilera leaned in, her breath catching. "What happened?" The man''s eyes rolled weakly toward her, unfocused, barely clinging to consciousness. And then, with the last of his strength, he whispered a single, trembling word. "Monster." Chapter 21: The East Gate Incident I stood there, barely upright, surrounded by the wreckage, black flames and the blood-soaked ground. My entire body returned to its malnourished state, no longer the towering beast. It throbbed. Pain pulsed through me, a relentless drumbeat in my skull, my ribs burning with every shallow breath. Each inhale scraped my insides like sandpaper, but I refused to fall. Not yet. Not in front of him. Albert stood opposite me, his face smeared with soot, eyes glinting with that cruel satisfaction l''d come to know so well. His gun was steady, aimed right at my chest. His voice, low and unyielding, cut through the chaos around us. The look in his eyes twisted my stomach. "You''re resilient. I''ll give you that," he murmured, as if he were actually proud. "All those times I pushed you, forced you to endure more than any person should... It made you strong." I knew what came next. His voice was low, unwavering, like the crack of a gavel. "But it ends here, Edwin." A laugh tried to claw its way up my throat, but it came out as a ragged cough. My fingers curled into the dirt, nails digging into the filth as I forced myself to hold his gaze. "Fuck!" I spat, the curse laced with something bitter-rage, maybe. Or exhaustion. His expression didn''t change, but I caught the twitch in his fingers, the brief flicker of something deeper. "Don''t give me that look," he said, almost amused. "Don''t shut down on me just yet." He sighed, rubbing his temple, the weight of it all dragging his shoulders down for a fleeting second. "I guess... I''m the one to blame for these men''s fates." My eyes flickered to the bodies scattered around us-limp, motionless, some barely recognizable as human. The firelight cast long, grotesque shadows across the battlefield. Their deaths are my fault. Or his? The line blurred too easily. Should the one who couldn¡¯t control the beast be responsible, or the creator of the beast? "Then just¡­.. finish it," I rasped. "Get revenge for your men. Finish me off here so that this never happens again." Albert''s lips pressed into a thin line, his head shaking slightly-almost pitying. Almost. "No, Edwin. I don''t want you dead." He stepped forward, measured, assured, his gun never wavering. "I need you alive. It can only be you." Then he must be trying to make more monsters. I felt a laugh bubble up, broken and painful, my ribs protesting with each sound. Blood spattered as I coughed, but I didn''t care. "You can''t control me forever." The air between us thickened, the heat of the burning around us was suffocating. It had to be my will power that kept me conscious. "We''re so close to the cure," he continued, his voice softer now, as if he were trying to reason with me. "To developing the weapon that will end all of this. You don''t see it yet, but you could save the world." His eyes darkened. "You could be a hero." The word hit like a bullet. Hero. A laugh tore from my throat, raw and broken, filling my mouth with the taste of blood. He had said this to me before, and perhaps I did believe him at some point in the past. However I could not pretend to be naive. "A hero?" My voice dripped venom, my hands trembling at my sides. "Look at me." My body ached, ruined. "I''m the monster you created, Albert." I gestured to the corpses, to the flames licking at the edges of the wreckage. "Look at what happened when I lost control." His jaw tightened. Just like that, whatever sliver of pity that had surfaced in his gaze was gone. "Maybe," he said, voice like steel. "But that monster will stay here, even if I have to break you to make it happen." His meaning slammed into me, cold and suffocating. He lied, he wasn''t looking for a cure. He¡¯s been trying to make more monsters. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. The realization sent another laugh bubbling up-jagged, painful. My ribs screamed with each sound, blood spattering the ground as I coughed. "You can''t control me forever." The firelight cut sharp shadows across Albert¡¯s face. His tone was deep and impactful. "We''ll see about that." His gun moved before I could react. BANG! A deafening crack split the air. The impact hit like a hammer, my body jerking as the bullet tore through me. My legs gave out, and the world tilted violently as I collapsed onto the bloodstained earth. The sky blurred, the fires bleeding into the dark. My body felt distant, weightless. The sound of footsteps could be heard through the ringing in my ears. The sound of boots splashing through the crimson pools I had made. He gripped me tightly by the arm and lifted me up over his shoulder. The two of us stood amidst the wreckage, the bodies, the flames. The battlefield was dead around us, but the black fire still whispered, still crackled, like the voices of the fallen lingering in the smoke. Albert lifted his radio, tuning to a private channel, his voice flat. "Clean up needed at the eastern gate." Click! Then, as if the smoke itself had swallowed us whole, we vanished, leaving the blood-soaked battlefield behind us. A few moments later, three sets of rushing footsteps could be heard. ¡ª¡ª¡ª///////¡ª¡ª¡ª The air was thick with the scent of blood and burnt flesh. Smoke curled in the dim light, snaking through the wreckage, whispering over bodies that littered the velvet bathed road. Cenilera stood amidst the carnage, her hands stained with the warmth of the now dead man. Her breath shuddered. "This is... awful," she whispered, brushing strands of hair from her damp forehead as she knelt beside another fallen guard. Fingers pressed against his throat-nothing. Just cooling skin and a vacant stare. Her stomach churned, but she swallowed the bile, forcing herself to move to the next one. A pulse. Faint, but there. The rise and fall of shallow, wheezing breaths. She wasn''t too late. Not for all of them. James stepped further inside, his boots crunching against shattered glass and debris. His eyes swept the scene, cataloging every corpse, every ruinous wound. The gun at his side felt heavier than before. Flashes of the constant battles when the walls were being built flooded his otherwise solitude mind. "We got here not even two minutes after that last radio call." His voice was gruff and tense. "Where the hell is Albert¡ªand the brat?" "They should still be nearby. We can catch up with them," Robert said, though his voice wavered. He knew better. The battle was over. There were no more gunshots, no more inhuman roars shaking the walls. The silence meant only one thing: Albert had already left, taking Edwin with him. He was efficient like that, never lingering when the dead would soon rise. James stepped over a twisted body, squinting down at the sheer brutality of the wounds. Deep gouges, limbs bent in ways they shouldn''t be, bones jutting out, flesh torn as if something had ripped through them like paper. "It looks like a goddamn animal tore through here," he muttered. Cenilera barely registered his words, her hands moving on their own, pressing against wounds, checking for movement, for life. Sweat dripped down her temple. "The kid did all this?" Robert asked, his voice tinged with something he didn''t want to name. Cenilera swallowed hard, fingers trembling as she pressed against a deep laceration, her palm coming away slick with red. They... they might make it. But only if we move fast. I need to disinfect these cuts before we transport them. If we don''t, it''ll be a death sentence. They won¡¯t survive an infection which means they¡¯d turn into zombies." A sickening groan cut through the air. A body stirred on the floor. Robert froze. "We got a live one over here!" He took a cautious step closer, voice low. "Hey, you alright? What happened?" The guard-no, the thing that had once been a guard-lurched upright, its mouth parting with a garbled moan. Its fingers twitched, curling toward its own spilled intestines that trailed from an open wound. James acted first. "Shit!" He whipped out his gun. Bang! The headshot sent the corpse slumping back to the ground, unmoving. Robert''s jaw tightened. "How many bullets do you have left?" James'' eyes flicked across the rising bodies. He clenched his jaw. "Fifteen-if every shot lands." Robert exhaled sharply. "Toss me your baton." James didn''t hesitate. The metal baton arced through the air, and Robert caught it with practiced ease. The electric current hummed as he gripped it tighter. More bodies were shifting now. Limbs twitching, mouths parting as the infection took hold. Cenilera had gone still, frozen where she knelt. "Protect your girlfriend," James said, stepping forward. "I''ll take point. We need to move before we get boxed in." Bang! Bang! Bang! Two more fell. But the shots had drawn attention. Outside the gates, the echoes of the shots caused the corpses to rise. "We''re already surrounded," Robert snapped. Bang! Bang! Bang! James cursed. "Dammit! Get to the wall. I''ll draw them in and thin them out as much as I can." Bang! The floor around them began to shift, bodies twitching and stumbling as more guards began to reanimate. Cenilera grabbed James'' sleeve. "You can''t-" Bang! Bang! "Just go," he cut her off, voice hard. "If I run out, I''ll toss the gun to you. Save the last bullet for me." Robert''s face twisted. "You''re really gonna throw yourself away like that? You think I want that on my conscience?" Bang! Bang! James smirked grimly. "Then keep up, and don''t slow me down." Bang! Another corpse lunged. Robert¡¯s baton struck it across the skull, and the sharp crack of bone echoed through the corridor. Bang! Bang! "I-I can''t," she stammered, her hands shaking. "I don''t know how to shoot-" James gritted his teeth. Bang! "Grab a baton then!" "I''m out of bullets, just stay out of our way and pay attention to the corpses around you!" James barked as he swung his baton, striking a zombie across its face. The jolt of electricity seared the creature''s rotting flesh, sending tiny sparks along its wound. Careful!" Robert warned. "Their blood''s contaminated!" A sharp, wet sound filled the air as James dodged another attack, his baton slamming down on the reanimated corpse''s skull. The impact left a sickening indentation. Cenilera couldn''t move. She was barely breathing. The bodies, the blood, the reek of death-she''d seen it all before, but this was different. She wasn''t in an infirmary, she wasn''t behind locked doors. There was no waiting this one out. Then, without warning a corpse began to wriggle itself upward too closely behind Cenilera. The corpse shot up, lurching forward with a guttural snarl. Cold fingers dug into her arms, yanking her back, off balance. Her back hit the ground hard. Thud! She looked up-and her breath caught in her throat. It was on top of her. Jaw unhinged, face inches from hers. Its blood-slick hands locked onto her shoulders, nails biting into flesh. Its mouth gaped wider, and she could smell it-rotting breath. ¡°Watch out!¡± Chapter 22: East Gate Hero "Watch out!" Bang! A deafening gunshot tore through the chaos. The bullet struck the corpse square between its vacant, milky eyes, sending it crumpling lifelessly to the ground. Cenilera gasped, her lungs seizing as she jolted backward. Her pulse pounded against her skull, a frenzied drumbeat that refused to slow. She turned toward the source of the shot¡ªa wounded guard, barely clinging to life. His hands trembled around the grip of his gun, his breaths shallow, rasping. Blood seeped from the gashes in his side, pooling beneath him, a dark stain spreading across the cracked pavement. He saved me. The thought barely settled before she was kneeling beside him, her fingers pressing urgently against his throat. A faint, unsteady pulse throbbed beneath his clammy skin. "Thank you," she breathed, her voice shaking. "You saved my life." The guard gave a weak nod, his hollow eyes barely meeting hers. His lips were dry, split, as if he had already accepted what was coming. Cenilera pressed down on his wounds, trying to slow the bleeding. Three deep gashes, jagged and raw, tore through his side. A single glance told her what she already knew-his body was losing the fight. He knew it, too. A bitter chuckle rattled from his throat. "Be real with me, doc..." His breath hitched. "How bad is it?" A shudder ran through him. "Am I going to make it?" She hesitated. Her fingers twitched against his skin. She could lie, tell him he''d pull through, that help was coming, that he just had to hold on. But she saw the truth written in his eyes¡ªhe didn''t want sweet lies. Yet her role as a doctor was to save lives, so even if there was a slim chance. She would hold onto the bad news. "You''ll be just fine," she murmured instead, her tone gentler than the words themselves. "Just hang in there. Help will be here soon." The guard exhaled sharply, his expression unreadable. "Tch... it''ll be too late by then," he muttered, a tired smirk ghosting over his lips. A shiver slithered down Cenilera''s spine. Something was wrong. The air shifted, thick with a presence that sent dread curling in her gut. The cold clung to her skin like phantom fingers, an all-too-familiar sensation she had learned to recognize long ago. The creeping omen of Death itself. She had felt it before, lingering in the infirmary''s corridors as patients exhaled their final breaths. Hovering in operating rooms when a heartbeat faded to nothing beneath her trembling hands. And now... it surrounded her again. Then she heard it. The wet, grotesque squelch of shifting bodies. The dragging scrape of flesh against pavement. The rising, inhuman moans. More dead were waking. Cenilera''s breath hitched, her blood running ice cold. Her hand darted to the injured guard''s shoulder, gripping it tight. "We need to move," she whispered, voice taut with urgency. The guard gave her a knowing look, a tired smile barely forming. "You should run, doc." If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Another corpse lurched up behind them. Gaaaaarg! A chorus of guttural howls erupted as the fresh dead surged forward, their movements unnaturally quick, ravenous with new life. They bolted upright in a frenzy, their decayed limbs jerking as they locked onto their prey. James and Robert stood in the center of the chaos, backs pressed together, weapons raised. But they were surrounded. Cenilera lurched forward, a strangled cry forming in her throat¡ª A firm grip yanked her back. "No, you won''t," the guard hissed, his breath hot and ragged against her ear. His fingers dug into her wrist. "You''ll draw them here." Her breath came in shallow gasps. "I can''t leave them!" she pleaded, voice raw, trembling with desperation. The guard''s empty gaze met hers, hollow yet resolute. Blood dribbled from his lips, his skin paling with every passing second. He was dying. He knew it. She knew it. "Walk away," he commanded, his voice strained but steady. "Slowly. And don''t look back." A part of her wanted to fight, to stay, to do something-anything. But her feet obeyed before her mind could argue. She took a step back. Then another.with each step back, it became harder to even fathom moving forward. Time warped, stretching each moment into eternity. Her heart thundered as she watched the dying man shift his grip on his gun. His fingers trembled, but his aim remained true. A slow, rattling breath left his lips¡ª BANG! The gunshot tore through the night, ringing in her ears. Loud and piercing, it ripped through the air. The bullet found its mark. A zombie''s head snapped back, brain matter splattering against the pavement. The horde froze. Then, as if puppets pulled by invisible strings, they turned toward the source of the sound. A weak, defiant grin twisted the guard''s lips. He dragged in one last breath, lungs rattling. "Come and get me, you ugly fucks!" he bellowed. His legs buckled. He collapsed to his knees. The dead swarmed him. They crashed into him like a living tide, clawing, biting, ripping. He screamed, tearing through the air. Munch-! Munch-! Munch-! Flesh ripped. Bones snapped. His ribs were yanked from his chest, his intestines unspooling onto the pavement. Munch-! Munch-! Munch-! The sickening sounds of tearing flesh and gnashing teeth filled the air, drowning out everything else. They shredded him apart. Robert let out a sharp breath, his fists clenching at his sides. "Goddamnit.." His voice was raw, barely above a whisper. "Why''d you have to play hero, Sanchez?" James staggered back, his body stiff with fury. His breathing was ragged, shoulders heaving with the weight of it all. Just like Jason... Just like every damn time before. He had seen too many men make this choice, had felt their absence like an open wound that never healed. And yet, in a world like this, that kind of sacrifice was the only thing that kept anyone alive. It didn''t make it any easier. James'' grip tightened around his gun, the metal searing into his palm. He had to do something. He had to make them pay. He raised the barrel, his heart hammering, vision sharpening¡ª A firm hand clamped down on his wrist. Robert. Munch-! Munch-! Munch-! His grip was unyielding, his gaze like iron, devoid of the usual fire. It was something heavier. Something final. "Not now," Robert said, voice low, steady. James'' pulse pounded against his skull. He wanted to fight, to lash out, to tear those monsters apart until nothing remained¡ª a wave of rage fueled his beating heart. Just like Jason, Sanchez sacrificed himself for them. It was a protocol to save the most lives but the execution of action was heavy on anyone. We all want to grasp at life and never let go. Yet in the world they live in, that mindset got more individuals hurt than saved. He knew deep down Sanchez did the right thing, it just didn¡¯t make it any easier. Being saved yet again. Slowly, James exhaled through gritted teeth and lowered the gun. Then his eyes drifted to Cenilera. She hadn''t moved. Hadn''t spoken. Hadn''t even blinked. She stood paralyzed, staring at the grotesque feast before her, as if her mind refused to process the horror unraveling before her. The firelight flickered against her face, highlighting the sheen of sweat on her brow, the tremble in her fingers. "Cenilera," James called softly, waving a hand in front of her face. Nothing. Robert took a cautious step forward, reaching out. "Lilith-" Still nothing. She was locked in place, drowning in the moment. James'' gut twisted. She''s seen death before. We all have. But this... this was different. He moved closer, lowering his voice to something barely above a breath. "Cenilera." No response. The weight of her silence pressed down on James heavily like a truck. He knew that feeling. That numb, sinking void that threatened to pull you under, where the world faded into nothing but the echoes of what you''d lost. The memories you tried to bury-the screams, the blood, the ones you couldn''t save-resurfacing all at once, digging their claws into your mind, forcing you to relive your trauma over and over¡ªagain and again. James had been there. He still was. And now, Cenilera was drowning in it. Her breath was shallow, her pupils blown wide as she stared through him, through Robert, through everything. The distant crackling of fire reflected in her eyes, the grotesque sound of flesh being torn from bone playing like a sick melody in the background. She wasn''t here. She was somewhere else-locked in a past she couldn''t escape. He turned to Robert, voice barely above a whisper. "On the count of three, we''re snapping her out of it with an applied shock." Robert shot him a look. "What do you mean shock?" James exhaled sharply. "We''re gonna scream. Loud. Shake her out of it." "That''s your genius plan?" "1-" The sound of gnashing teeth grew louder. ¡°Are you sure this will work?¡± "2-" Shadows flickered as the fire burned lower. Something moved behind them. Robert was about to spring into action and yell but James didn''t wait for three. "CENILERA!" he roared, his voice cutting through the air like a gunshot. Then- All the zombies turned, facing them with a feral hunger. Chapter 23: Don’t Look Back The memories surged like a relentless wave, dragging Lilith back to that night-the night her world shattered. The air had felt wrong. It was heavy, thick. Suffocating. Silence had hung in the darkness like a held breath, fragile and unnatural. But then came the sounds-shrieking alarms blaring through the cold night, their wails echoing between buildings like the cries of the damned. Then, the screams. Not just one. Many. A cacophony of agony and terror, rising and falling in a sickening rhythm. CRASH! Ahhh-! The sharp shatter of glass split the air, like bones snapping under pressure. Lilith flinched, her body stiff with fear. The noise came from close-too close. Shadows flickered against the walls, thrown wildly by the distant flames. Occasionally her wall would flash red and blue. STOMP. STOMP. STOMP. Heavy steps pounded up the stairs in her direction. Each step was a hammer against her ears, each sound another nail sealing her fate. ¡°M-mom?¡± STOMP. STOMP. STOMP. They were coming. Bang! Her bedroom door slammed open so violently that it nearly tore off its hinges. A looming figure filled the frame, darkness swallowing its features. It was her mother. Drenched in sweat and blood. She barreled through the doorway, face drained of all color, eyes blown wide with panic. She didn''t speak, didn''t hesitate. She grabbed Lilith by the arm, her grip bruising-desperate. "Mom?! What''s going on?" she''d whispered, barely able to get the words out as her mother pulled her into the hallway. Her mother didn''t answer right away. She only gripped Lilith''s arm tighter, her fingers cold and trembling. Then, in a sharp, hushed voice, she finally spoke. "Not a sound, Lilith. Just follow me." Lilith swallowed the knot in her throat, her pulse hammering against her ribs. She obeyed, pressing close to her mother''s side as they moved down the narrow staircase. The house groaned around them, its wooden bones settling under the weight of something unnatural. Shadows stretched along the walls, grotesque and shifting, their shapes twisting with every flicker of light from the shattered windows. The outside world bled into their home-cold air, distant sirens, the lingering scent of something burning. But beneath it all, a sickening coppery tang filled the air. Halfway down the stairs, her mother suddenly stopped. Lilith barely had time to react before she felt her mother''s grip tighten, fingers digging into her skin like iron clamps. Then she heard it. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. A low, guttural grow slithered up from the darkness below, thick with hunger. It was wet and guttural, a sound that sent ice lacing through her veins. Graugh... Aghh¡­.. Munch! Munch! The sound of tearing flesh. The sick, wet squelch of something being chewed. Bone cracking under pressure. Lilith felt her stomach twist violently, bile clawing at the back of her throat. She couldn''t move. Couldn''t breathe. Tears streamed down her face. Her mother''s fingers trembled against her wrist. Her voice came out hoarse, almost inaudible. "Listen to me, Lilith. They''re already inside." Lilith''s legs turned to lead, her breath caught in her throat as she clung to the railing, her fingers digging into the splintered wood. She didn''t want to look-but she couldn''t tear her eyes away. Below, in the dim, flickering light, she saw them. Her twin siblings. Or at least, what used to be them. Their small bodies moved in grotesque, jerky motions, as if controlled by invisible strings. Their heads twitched unnaturally, dark veins sprawling across their once-soft faces like a grotesque web. Their skin, once flushed with life, was now sickly pale, a pallid gray that stretched too tightly over their bones. And their mouths-God, their mouths-were slick with blood. Beneath them lay a sprawled figure, torn. Ruined. It was her father. The coppery scent of blood was thick, suffocating, clinging to her skin like tar. It filled her lungs, but she couldn''t breathe. Her chest ached, her ribs locking in place. Then, one of the twins lifted its head. Its lips curled back, revealing red-stained teeth. Its eyes-dead, empty, hollow-met hers. But there was something worse lurking beneath the emptiness. Something primal. Hunger. Lilith''s stomach lurched. A scream clawed up her throat, desperate to break free. Her mother''s grip on her wrist tightened, fingers digging into her skin like steel vises. A silent plea. A desperate command. No. She wouldn¡¯t yell. They had to leave. But it was too late. The silence shattered with the sound of her father''s final, wet breath¡ªa ragged, gurgling exhale that sent a shiver down her spine. As if the last breath was a sign of being done with their meal, the twins released him with a loud groan. They were broken, inhuman groans, their small, bloodied hands twitching as they rose. "No, no, no-" Her mother''s voice cracked, the words barely holding together as she yanked Lilith back, up the stairs, toward what little safety they had left. "Don''t look back, Lilith. Just run." She couldn''t. Her gaze was locked on the horror unfolding below, trapped as her father''s limp body twitched. A slow, awful movement, like a puppet being lifted by unseen strings. She wanted to deny it. Deny Reality. ¡°It¡¯s alright mom, dads fine. He¡¯s getting up, see? His head lolled unnaturally to the side, glassy, bloodshot eyes rolling toward them. His mouth hung open, jaw slack, saliva and blood mixing as it dribbled down his chin. In a single, heart-stopping second, her father lunged. His arms shot forward, fingers splayed, reaching ¡ªgrasping-for anything that would bring her closer to his gnashing teeth. His face, once kind and familiar, was now a grotesque mask of twisted hunger. His jaw hung slack, blood and saliva pooling at the corners of his lips as he let out a guttural moan. Her mother shoved her backward up the stairs. "Run, Lilith! RUN!" Her voice was raw, desperate-commanding. "Take the fire escape!" Lilith''s feet nearly gave out beneath her, but sheer terror forced her legs into motion. She stumbled up the stairs, fingers scrambling for the railing as the world blurred around her. Behind her, her mother turned to face the monster that had once been her husband. Lilith didn''t look back. But the sounds followed her. The sickening crunch of teeth meeting flesh. Munch- A shudder ran down her spine. Her stomach twisted violently. She reached the fire escape, flinging the window open with trembling hands. The metal frame groaned in protest as she hoisted herself over the edge. Cold air slapped her face, shocking her lungs, but even out here, she couldn''t escape. The sounds were still there. The wet, tearing rip of bone and meat. The gasping, choking sobs of her mother, weakening with every second. Lilith''s vision blurred, her breath hitching, her fingers gripping the fire escape railing so tightly her knuckles turned white. Munch- The past curled around her like a noose, suffocating her. The memories wouldn''t let go. The shrieks of this moment-the undead guards, the screaming, the tearing of flesh-blended seamlessly with the horrors of her childhood. Her mind teetered on the edge, trapped between past and present, drowning in blood and screams. Her heartbeat pounded in her skull. Her vision darkened at the edges. The fire escape beneath her felt unsteady, unreal-like she was balancing between two worlds, neither of them offering salvation. And then¡ª A hand grabbed her wrist. A voice¡ªdistant but real¡ªcut through the fog. ¡°CENILERA!¡± he roared, James¡¯s voice cutting through the air like a gunshot. Robert followed suit, his voice raw with urgency. ¡°WAKE UP, Lilith!¡± The impact hit like a lightning strike. Cenilera gasped, her entire body jolting. Her eyes snapped back into focus, darting between James and Robert, her chest rising and falling in sharp, erratic breaths. For a moment, she looked lost, like she had just been wrenched from the depths of a nightmare. James didn¡¯t give her a second to process. ¡°Move. Now.¡± The firelight cast jagged shadows across their faces as they bolted. James took the lead, Robert covering the rear, and Cenilera¡ªstill shaken, but moving¡ªpressed forward between them. Behind them, the wet, gluttonous sounds of Sanchez¡¯s remains being devoured filled the silence. Chapter 24: Until the Last Breath The air was thick with rot, an unbearable stench clinging to the back of Cenilera''s throat as she staggered back. Her breath came in short, uneven bursts, her fingers trembling at her sides. The world spun around her, but she forced herself to focus-focus on the present. Not the past. Not the blood. Not the screams. But the present was no less of a nightmare. A fresh wave of undead blocked their path back toward Centerpoint City, their twisted, ruined forms swaying hungrily. The distant glow of burning streetlights cast their grotesque shadows onto the cracked pavement, making them seem larger, more monstrous. James and Robert didn''t hesitate. They bolted for the only other route¡ª MidFallen''s gate. A towering wall of rusted steel loomed before them, its heavy bolts firmly locked in place. Robert yanked at the handle, his knuckles turning white, but it didn''t budge. Their one way out was gone. And worse, the undead were closing in. Their guttural groans grew louder, the sickening shuffle of broken limbs scraping against asphalt ringing in Cenilera''s ears like the toll of a funeral bell. They were trapped. James and Robert exchanged a single glance-one filled with silent understanding, the grim acceptance of men who had fought too long to hesitate now. They stepped forward in unison, weapons raised. And the fight began. Robert''s electrified baton crackled to life, its blue arc flashing against the darkness as it slammed into the nearest undead skull. A wet, burning sizzle filled the air as its rotting flesh and brain cooked under the voltage, the smell a stomach-churning mix of decay and charred meat. It spasmed violently before collapsing, but there was no time to celebrate. James was already a blur beside him, his knife flashing silver under the dim light as he buried it into a zombie''s skull. He twisted the blade with a practiced, brutal efficiency before yanking it free, sending a spray of blackened blood across his already stained jacket. Cenilera stood frozen, her breath ragged, watching them carve through the horde in a brutal ballet of survival. Every movement was precise, honed through loss and necessity. The sickening thud of metal meeting flesh. The cracking of skulls shattered under impact. The garbled moans of the undead as they crumpled, only for more to take their place. And then-their breathing. Slowly getting heavier. James and Robert''s breaths were heavy, exhausted, filled with the weight of men running on empty but refusing to fall. Cenilera couldn''t move. Her father''s hollow, bloodshot eyes staring right through her. Her siblings'' blood-streaked faces, mouths wet with the ruin of what they''d done. Her mother''s final scream-a raw, piercing sound that had never left her, even years later. Baaam-! Cenilera jolted, snapping back into reality just in time to see an undead push past Robert knocking him to the ground. The corpse stared, its white glazed, lifeless eyes pierced through the dark. It gaze locked onto hers. "Cenilera," Robert said, his voice sharp but laced with something deeper-concern. "You need to move. Now." She swallowed, trying to force air into her lungs, trying to push past the icy grip of the past that threatened to drown her. Robert spun, baton swinging. It connected with a sickening CRACK, sending the undead crashing into the pavement. But the horde was endless. James and Robert were running out of steam. And Cenilera? She was dead weight. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. ¡°No. No more.¡± Something inside her snapped-the paralyzing fear, the echoes of the past, the helplessness. It burned away. Her hands moved before her mind caught up, fingers wrapping around the scalpel sheathed in her pocket. It was small, useless compared to their weapons, but it was hers. And she wasn''t going to watch them die. With a sharp inhale, she gritted her teeth and stepped forward. The air was a suffocating mix of sweat, blood, and rot. Cenilera barely had time to react before the zombie lunged, its decayed body hurling through the air with terrifying speed. The stench of death engulfed her, an unbearable cocktail of rotting flesh and soured blood. She didn''t think. Her arm shot forward, the scalpel gleaming under the dim, flickering lights as it sank deep into the creature''s nape. But it didn''t stop. The impact slammed her onto the floor, her skull cracking against the cold, unforgiving tiles. Stars exploded in her vision as the weight of the undead bore down on her. The thing snarled, its putrid breath burning against her cheek. Cenilera gritted her teeth, shoving an elbow up beneath its chin, barely keeping its snapping jaws away from her throat. Its broken teeth gnashed inches from her skin, hunger turning its dead gaze into something almost sentient. It¡¯s was swollen, most likely caused from the initial impact that killed them. Her pulse pounded in her ears. She had seconds. Her free hand jerked the scalpel out with a sickening squelch and drove it back in-again. And again. The thin blade punctured decomposed flesh, sinking into its temple, its throat, its eye socket. It wouldn''t die. The zombie thrashed against her, its decayed fingers clawing at her arm, digging into her skin. Her muscles burned, her strength slipping. Her mind screamed at her to fight, to survive, but the weight of the past pressed down on her, blending with the monster above her. Not again. Not again. Then¡ª BAAAM! The doors exploded open. The shockwave sent the undead reeling back from the sound, just enough for Cenilera to kick it off her. She gasped, rolling away, her vision a blur of movement and muzzle flashes. A squadron of guards and nurses stormed into the hallway, their weapons roaring, unloading round after round with deadly precision. The undead didn''t stand a chance. Bodies dropped, one after another, limbs jerking, skulls bursting, the air thick with the acrid stench of gunpowder and burnt flesh. Then-silence. Cenilera lay there, panting, her body trembling with exhaustion. The only sounds left were the ragged breaths of the survivors who stayed unconscious and thus were spared from being bitten. In the distance, the crackling radio chatter from the guards echoed in her head as gibberish. Robert let out a shaky breath, running a hand over his sweat-drenched face. His eyes were wide, still running on adrenaline. "Thank God," he muttered, almost to himself, his voice rough with exhaustion. He holstered his weapon, his fingers unsteady. James let out a slow exhale, his usual heavy demeanor dampened by the weight of the moment. "Better late than never," he murmured, rolling his shoulders as the tension in his muscles began to unwind. Cenilera pushed herself up on weak limbs, swallowing down the bile rising in her throat. She had been seconds away from death. Again. A new presence filled the room, commanding and sharp. Commander J. Mark. He stepped forward, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over the carnage. His uniform was immaculate despite the chaos, his expression unreadable, but his eyes-**piercing, calculating-**swept over the survivors like a predator assessing its prey. Then, his gaze landed on her. Cenilera stiffened under his scrutiny, still struggling to ground herself in the present. He studied her for a moment, then spoke, his voice smooth yet edged with something unreadable. "Well... I suppose I should say congratulations. You were all able to hold on until we arrived." A voice, calm but edged with authority, cut through the thick air. "Rest assured, you''re safe now." Commander J. Mark''s voice was like iron wrapped in silk. He stood in the doorway, flanked by two guards, his presence alone enough to command attention. His uniform was immaculate, barely a wrinkle in sight despite the chaos that had unfolded. Everything about him was precise, controlled. For a brief moment, the corners of his mouth ticked up in a smile¡ªa calculated gesture meant to reassure, not comfort. But as he continued, his expression hardened once more. "Remember, in situations like this, the priority is containment. We isolate the reanimated before securing the area and tending to the wounded. It''s safer that way." Cenilera forced herself to nod, even as guilt coiled like a vice in her stomach. Her fingers twitched at her sides, still slick with the remnants of whatever had been left on that scalpel. If she hadn''t hesitated to fight, to kill, but had made an effort right away, to stand and fight side by side, would things have ended differently? "Of course, sir... I just wanted to help." Mark studied her for a long moment, his sharp eyes flickering with something almost unreadable. Then, ever so slightly, his gaze softened. "I know you did." His voice was quieter now, devoid of reprimand. "And you did help. But next time, follow protocol. That''s an order." She swallowed hard and nodded again, this time more firmly. James, still catching his breath beside her, snorted. "Yeah, yeah, protocol. Pretty sure protocol went out the damn window the second Councilor Albert and the kid vanished leaving these guys behind without a warning." Robert shot him a sharp look, but James only shrugged, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. His usual cocky smirk was there, but it didn''t quite reach his eyes. He was tired. They all were. Mark, to his credit, didn''t react to the jab. Instead, he exhaled slowly, clasping his hands behind his back. "I don''t expect any of you to like protocol. But I do expect you to follow it." His gaze flicked between them, assessing. "Or would you prefer to end up like your friend over there?" He gestured toward Sanchez''s remains. The words were a cold slap against the already frigid air. Cenilera''s stomach twisted as she turned her head. The mangled corpse barely resembled a person anymore. Flesh stripped away, bones exposed, entrails smeared across the floor. The guards had done what they could to finish off the ones feasting on him, but there wasn''t much left of Sanchez to save. James'' jaw tightened, but for once, he didn''t have a snarky reply. Mark let the silence settle before continuing, his voice like a blade gliding through the tension. "Get cleaned up. You''ll all be debriefed in one hour." His gaze lingered on Cenilera for a second longer than the others before he turned sharply on his heel, disappearing into the hallway with his guards in tow. The moment he was gone, the weight of exhaustion slammed into Cenilera''s bones. She wavered slightly, pressing a hand to her temple. Robert caught the movement. "You good, Lilith?" She hesitated to respond. Was she? Her body ached, her hands were shaking, and her mind still teetered between this moment and the past, the echoes of her mother''s screams still clawing at the edges of her consciousness. But she couldn''t fall apart. Not here. Not now. She forced a quick breath, then forced a smile. "Yeah. Just tired." Robert didn''t look convinced, but he didn''t push. As they turned to leave, Cenilera stole one last glance over her shoulder. The bodies. The blood. The way the overhead lights flickered against the still-warm carnage. She''d survived. Again. Chapter 25: The Weight of the Living Commander J. Mark stood at the center of it all, his piercing gaze scanning the ruined hall with the cold efficiency of a man who had seen too much to be fazed. His uniform remained immaculate, a stark contrast to the bloodstained survivors before him. His expression remained unreadable as his voice cut through the heavy silence. "Where is Councilor Albert?" His tone was sharp, measured. "He wasn''t outside, nor is he in here." A tense beat of silence passed. The weight of his words sank in. A guard stepped forward, standing rigid. "I''ll locate him, sir," he said briskly. His eyes flicked toward the door, his posture stiff with purpose. "I''ll report directly to Councilor Albert when I find him." Mark didn''t respond immediately. Instead, his gaze lingered on the room, assessing, calculating. Then, with a slight nod, he dismissed the guard, who promptly turned on his heel and disappeared into the darkness. The tension in the air didn''t fade with him. Robert exhaled heavily, rubbing the grime from his face before turning toward James. A rare flicker of something softer crossed his face-a mixture of gratitude and exhaustion. He clapped a hand on James''s shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "Thanks for having my back back there," he said, his voice quieter than usual. "I probably would''ve been dead if you hadn''t swung in." James cocked a smirk, the usual edge of cockiness still present but tempered by the day''s brutality. "Don''t worry. I won''t go around bragging about saving your life..." His smirk deepened as his gaze flickered between Robert and Cenilera. "Or certain relationships." Robert stiffened ever so slightly, his lips pressing together. Cenilera glanced away, her fingers tightening at her sides. James''s grin widened, his voice dropping to a knowing murmur. "But you''re going to owe me one, Robert. For saving your life... and your relationship." Robert huffed a quiet laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. The chaotic experience they had just endured-this near-death chaos-had changed something between them. Strengthening their friendship. He met James''s gaze and nodded. "Fine by me. Thank you, James." A silent understanding passed between them, one forged in blood and battle. With a final nod, James turned on his heel and disappeared through the gate, his figure swallowed by the dim glow of the burning flames outside. Cenilera''s shoulders sagged as she finally released a weary breath. It felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on her, and for the first time in hours, she allowed herself to feel it. The blood. The death. The aching exhaustion that settled deep in her bones. Her mind was still reeling from the past, from the present, from the memories that refused to let her go. Her resolve at the end felt like a meaningless moment once the guards arrived. For a moment, she just stood there, staring at nothing. Survivor''s guilt gnawed at her. The weight of exhaustion settled deep in Lilith''s bones, anchoring her to the cold, blood-slicked floor. She barely registered the ache in her limbs, the shallow tremble in her fingers. Robert knelt beside her, his presence a much needed distraction, grounding. His hand extended toward her-a silent offer, a tether to reality. "Come on," he said, his voice gentler than before. "Let''s get something to eat. The cafeteria''s still open for brunch, and we both need a damn break." If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Lilith tried to smile, but the expression crumbled before it could form. Her lips trembled, her breath uneven as she finally whispered, "I can''t believe this." Her voice cracked beneath the weight of grief. "Edwin was just a boy¡ªa sweet, kind boy. And now..." She shook her head, her throat constricting. "What has Albert done to him? How could he have done... all this?" A heavy silence settled between them. Her fingers curled into fists in her lap as she exhaled sharply, trying to steady herself. "I''m sorry," she added after a moment, her voice barely above a breath. "I''m just... exhausted. I feel like l''ve been running for miles." Robert''s gaze darkened, the flickering light overhead casting deep shadows beneath his tired eyes. He ran a hand down his face, exhaling slowly. "Albert, whether unwillingly or intentionally, gave him power." His voice was quieter now, laced with something unreadable. "Whatever Edwin does with it.. well, it''s hard to say if he even has a choice." His expression tightened, his jaw clenching as if the thought itself pained him. When he spoke again, it was almost to himself. "A kid that age... with everything he''s been through..." His voice dropped even lower. "Can we really trust that he''ll be able to control himself?" Lilith turned to face him fully, her gaze steady despite the exhaustion lining her features. The grief in her eyes hadn''t faded, but beneath it, something else flickered¡ªa quiet, unyielding determination. "He''s still so young, Robert." Her voice was firm, though tinged with sadness. "All he''s ever known is fear, pain, and control. But if we could get him far away from here... if we could show him a life beyond this madness, maybe-just maybe-he''d have a chance to find himself. To know what peace feels like." She swallowed hard, forcing the next words past the lump in her throat. "I don''t believe he''d ever hurt anyone intentionally." Robert studied her, his expression unreadable. The air between them felt heavier, charged with unspoken truths. Then, finally, he sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck before extending his hand again. "So, you''re still in?" His voice was quieter now, softer. "You still want to help him?" Lilith hesitated for only a second before placing her hand in his. Her grip was strong-surprisingly so, given how drained she looked. "Yes," she said, her voice steady and unwavering. "I want to give him a chance." The weight of their unspoken plan settled between them like a storm cloud-dark, inevitable, and dangerous. Robert exhaled slowly, his fingers flexing at his sides as if already grasping the burden of what was to come. His expression hardened. "If we''re getting him out, we need to be smart," he said, his voice edged with quiet urgency. "Albert''s not going to take any more chances after this. He''ll have guards posted around Edwin constantly." His jaw tightened. "I just need to make sure I''m one of them." The implication hung between them, heavy and unspoken. Lilith''s eyes narrowed, her mind racing through the risks. "You''d be one guard among many," she countered, her voice measured but laced with concern. "They''ll be watching your every move. What makes you think you can pull this off?" Robert met her gaze, and for the first time in what felt like hours, a flicker of something else sparked in his weary eyes-defiance, rebellion, hope. "Because I won''t be alone," he said quietly. Lilith''s brow furrowed, confusion knitting her features. "What do you-" Before she could finish, Robert stepped forward and pulled her into a firm embrace. Her body tensed, surprise locking her muscles in place, but then-his breath ghosted against her ear, his voice so low it barely reached her. "I''m not the only guard who doesn''t like what''s going on here," he murmured. "Give me time. I''ll reach out to those I trust. We''ll create a distraction big enough to buy you the chance to get Edwin out." A shiver ran down Lilith''s spine, not from fear, but from the sheer gravity of what they were about to attempt. The air between them felt charged, pulsing with silent determination. She pulled back just enough to search his face. The exhaustion was still there, the weight of everything pressing against him like an iron chain -but beneath it, an unshakable resolve burned in his gaze. "Are you sure?" she whispered, her fingers unconsciously tightening around the fabric of his sleeve. "This could be the end of everything for you." Robert''s lips quirked in a shadow of a smile-not cocky, not reckless, but something far steadier. "Then let''s make sure it''s worth it." Beneath his hardened exterior, something else flickered-something raw. "I''ve seen enough of what Albert''s done to know it''s worth the risk," he murmured, his voice quieter now, yet laced with a conviction that sent a shiver down Lilith''s spine. He exhaled, a bitter edge tugging at the corners of his mouth. "And if I can make a difference, even in a small way... then maybe all of this has a purpose." His lips twisted into something resembling a smile, weary and knowing. "Besides, I have my own reasons too." Lilith felt something in her chest tighten. Fear and gratitude warred within her, tangling together into something almost painful. How many times had she wanted to believe there was still a reason to fight, that they weren''t just clawing against the inevitable? And yet, here was Robert, standing before her, willing to risk everything for a cause that, for too long, had felt hopeless. Before she could stop herself, she reached out, her fingertips ghosting over his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the rough stubble. It was a fleeting touch, but in that moment, it spoke volumes. "Thank you, Robert," she whispered. "I don''t know what we''d do without you." His expression flickered-surprise, perhaps, or something deeper-but he didn''t pull away. Instead, he gave her a slow, steady nod before stepping back, his gaze drifting toward the bodies of his fallen comrades as they were carried out. The scent of blood and gunpowder still lingered in the air, a brutal reminder of how high the stakes had become. "Stay safe, Lilith," he said at last, his voice rough but steady. "When the time comes, be ready." And then he turned, walking away with purpose in every step, disappearing outside. Lilith watched him go, her heart pounding in her chest. The nightmare wasn''t over-not yet. The road ahead was still steep, treacherous, lined with uncertainty and danger. But for the first time in what felt like forever, something stirred within her. A spark, faint but undeniable. Hope. And she wasn''t about to let it die. Chapter 26: One Week After A week and a half slipped by, and in that time, the facility festered with unease. Whispers moved through the corridors like a rising tide, each hushed murmur feeding the next. Edwin''s absence was more than a missing person-it was a wound that refused to close, bleeding paranoia into every darkened hall. Albert, too, was different. He vanished for hours at a time, his return always heralded by an unsettling shift in the air. Some said he was planning something¡ªa "test," they called it. Others feared something worse. The fear had weight, thick enough to choke on, pressing down on the already fractured foundation of their world. Robert moved through his rounds mechanically, a shadow of himself, haunted by the echoes of Edwin''s violent escape. The aftermath lingered in every corner-guards with shattered bones, scorched walls where blasts had torn through, the warped and broken gate that led into MidFallen. The facility wasn''t just damaged; it was shaken to its core. In order to save his son and compound¡¯s face, Albert labeled the East Gate Incident as a terrorist attack that failed. The entire Fallen City was taken aback by the sudden news. And then there was James. He had paid the price for his failure, for the mere suspicion of helping Edwin slip away. Someone had seen him talking to Edwin before the breakout, and that was enough. Albert had him dragged in, stripped of his rank, interrogated for hours behind locked doors. No one knew the exact details of what had been done to him, only that when he emerged, the man was... less. Robert caught a glimpse of him once, a fleeting moment during a round. James was leaving the compound, his usual self-assured stride reduced to a hollow shuffle. His face was a mask of emptiness, his proud, sharp eyes dulled by something Robert couldn''t name. A fractured man. A ghost of what he had been. Sanchez''s sacrifice was honored-but not in truth. His story was twisted, reshaped to fit the carefully constructed narrative Albert needed the world to believe. He was no longer a guard who had died as a result from a fierce battle against the monsterized version of Edwin. Instead, he was a martyr, a symbol of defiance against the so-called terrorist threat. A patriot. Albert orchestrated the memorial with calculated precision, ensuring the entire city of Centerpoint bore witness. The compound''s courtyard, draped in banners of mourning, became the stage for a grand display of grief and patriotism. Somber music played as a massive screen broadcast a carefully edited tribute-Sanchez''s face immortalized in grainy footage, his deeds distorted into legend. When Albert took the podium, his voice was heavy with sorrow, yet unwavering with purpose. "Manuel Sanchez gave his life to protect us," he declared, his words slicing through the still air. "His bravery must not be forgotten." Then, with a flourish designed to cement Sanchez''s place in history, Albert unveiled his plans. The East Gate, once a mere passage, would now bear Sanchez''s name-M.S. East Gate¡ªa permanent reminder of his heroism, sacrifice and patriotism. A statue, grand and imposing, would be erected at the city''s entrance, it''s cold stone gaze set upon all who entered, a monument to the version of him that Albert had created. The crowd erupted into applause, a mix of admiration and blind acceptance. But beneath the surface, behind the polished speeches and scripted grief, the truth lay buried-just like Sanchez. ¡ª¡ª¡ª///////¡ª¡ª¡ª On the Third Level, Doctor Cenilera was fighting a war of her own. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Edwin''s fury had left her infirmary overflowing with the shattered remains of guards who had dared to stand in his way. The strongest had clung to life, surviving through raw will and multiple long session, desperate surgeries. But the rest... The rest were already being carried out in body bags. The medical ward reeked of blood and antiseptic, a battlefield of its own kind. Nurses moved like phantoms, some trembling, others running on sheer exhaustion. A few had collapsed in corners, their bodies betraying them after too many sleepless shifts. Those who still stood did so on shaking legs, haunted by the weight of the wounded and the suffocating knowledge that they couldn''t save them all. Anxiety pressed against the walls like a living thing, thick and oppressive, turning every breath into an effort. Then¡ª "Stitches. Now." Doctor Cenilera''s voice cut through the chaos like a blade. It was sharp, unyielding¡ªa thread of control in the unraveling madness. "I-I don''t know where they are!" Nurse Cal''s voice shook, his hands trembling as he rifled through a cart of scattered supplies. "Second drawer from the top," she snapped, barely keeping the bite from her tone. "Where they''ve always been." A beat of silence. Then¡ª "They''re gone, Doctor." Cenilera froze. Her jaw clenched as she turned, her eyes burning with exhaustion and frustration. Supplies were vanishing faster than they could be replaced, and now, at the worst possible moment, they were out of something as simple as stitches. Cal¡¯s hand hesitated over the drawer, finding only a stapler where the stitches should have been. He looked up, his face reflecting a bleak resignation. ¡°This is all we have.¡± With a hardened expression, Cenilera took the stapler from Cal. Her gaze shifted to the guard lying before her. David. His uniform was slick with blood, his skin deathly pale, his torso a ruin of deep, infected gashes. Each breath he took was a struggle, a testament to his fading endurance. Cenilera exhaled sharply, "This will hurt." A pause. A flicker of something softer. "I''m sorry, David. We have no painkillers left." For a moment, he said nothing. Then, despite everything, his lips curled in the ghost of a smile. "Maybe that''s for the best," he rasped. "Might remind me I''m still human." His eyes met hers, holding steady despite the agony lurking beneath. There was fear there, yes, but also something more. Resilience. Acceptance. A quiet understanding that pain was all that was left for them now. Cenilera pressed her lips together, then proceeded. The first staple punctured flesh with a brutal snap. David''s body arched, his scream tearing through the infirmary-a raw, guttural sound that echoed off the walls and settled deep in Cenilera''s bones. It wasn''t just pain; it was agony, primal and unrelenting. His fingers clawed at the edges of the bed, his breath ragged, eyes rolling back as she drove another staple into the open wound. The room felt smaller, suffocating under the weight of his suffering. Then, suddenly, his body slackened. A sharp inhale, a final shudder-and silence. Cenilera hovered over him, heart pounding. His chest still rose and fell, each breath shallow but steady. He had passed out from the pain. She exhaled slowly, pressing the back of her hand to his clammy forehead. Burning up. Infection was already setting in. "Rest now, David," she murmured, the words barely above a whisper. It wasn''t a comfort-it was all she could offer. "I¡¯ll have one of our nurses bring you medicine." A faint sound slipped from his lips, something between a sigh and a groan, before unconsciousness claimed him completely. She didn''t move. Her legs felt stiff, as though bound by invisible chains. Exhaustion pressed down on her like a lead weight, dragging her deeper into the pit she had been trying so desperately to claw out of. Blood-his blood-streaked her gloves, soaking into the cuffs of her sleeves. How many more? How many more body bags are going to pass through these doors? How many of the wounded will actually survive? A soft nudge against her arm jolted her back to reality. "Lilith." Cal''s voice was gentle, but firm. "You need a break." She turned toward him, barely registering the concern etched into his features. "There''s no time," she said, her voice hoarse, her own exhaustion evident in the dark smudges beneath her eyes. "If I stop now.." She swallowed hard, unable to finish. If I stop now, I might never get another chance to atone. Cal didn''t look convinced. "Then at least step away for a bit. Take a walk. Clear your head before you collapse." Cenilera hesitated. The idea of leaving felt wrong, like abandoning a battlefield before the fight was done. But she wasn''t winning this fight. None of them were. Reluctantly, she nodded, peeling off her gloves and dropping them into the waste bin. She turned and stepped out of the room, out of the ward, out of the suffocating scent of antiseptic and blood. The hallway felt eerily quiet in comparison to the chaos behind her. She stepped into the elevator, the doors sliding shut with a soft hiss. The moment it began its descent, she let out a breath she hadn''t realized she was holding. Chapter 27: Jamming Gears On the Second Level, Robert moved through the corridors like a ghost on patrol. The stale hum of machinery and distant echoes of footsteps filled the hall as he turned a corner. There, amid the throng of tired, huddled workers, a familiar face emerged from the crowd. "Andrei," Robert greeted, his voice rough with exhaustion yet laced with familiarity. Andrei offered a smirk, though it lacked any real amusement. "Still burning the midnight oil, Robert?" His tone was dry, almost playful, but the sharpness in his eyes betrayed the weight of the conversation they were about to have. Robert exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. ¡°Yeah, grave shift again.¡± He fell into step beside Andrei, leading them into a quieter passage where the overhead fluorescents flickered weakly, casting erratic shadows along the walls. ¡°No sign of Edwin. Just the same whispers¡ªpeople think he¡¯s on the Fifth Level. The same place Albert keeps disappearing to.¡± His voice dropped, laced with frustration and something deeper¡ªan urgency gnawing at his core. Andrei¡¯s smirk faded, replaced by something colder. ¡°The Fifth Level, huh?¡± He scoffed. ¡°You really believe that place exists? It¡¯s like a ghost story¡ªeveryone talks about it, but no one¡¯s seen proof. Hell, there¡¯s not even an elevator that goes that far down.¡± Robert''s jaw tightened as he stared at the floor, as if searching for answers within the cracks of the worn tiles. "I''ve searched everywhere, Andrei. Every room, every hallway I could access. Edwin isn''t on any of the known floors. He has to be there." A bitter edge crept into Andrei''s voice as he folded his arms, his fists clenching with restrained anger. "You know, Albert''s been different lately-more on edge than ever before. He''s pushing us past our limits, driving us to exhaustion. Whatever he''s working on... besides the cure-it''s consuming him from the inside out." The words hung in the air like a dark omen, and for a moment, the two men stood in silence, burdened by the weight of their shared uncertainties. The fluorescent overhead lights cast long, whispy shadows across their tired faces, and the murmur of anxious voices in the corridor seemed to echo the unrest that had settled deep within the facility. Robert shrugged, though his expression was grim. ¡°He¡¯ll either find what he¡¯s after¡ªor hopefully destroy himself in the process.¡± Andrei huffed, shaking his head. "You really think that''d be the end of it? If Albert falls, the whole damn system comes crashing down with him. And you know we''re nothing but gears in this machine." Robert shrugged, though his expression remained grim. "Maybe it''s time to jam the gears." Andrei studied him for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line before he spoke again. "There is one other thing. Albert''s been pushing R&D to revive an old project¡ªa belt. I don''t have all the details yet, but it seems like something important." "A belt?" Robert frowned, intrigued. "What kind of belt?" Andrei shook his head. "No clue. All I know is that it''s a design he had shelved a while back, and now he suddenly wants it fixed and wearable." Robert scoffed. ¡°So now he¡¯s into fashion? Let me know when you find out more.¡± He glanced at his wrist, checking the sleek watch strapped there, his brows furrowing slightly. "I have somewhere to be." Andrei''s gaze flickered to the sleek device on Robert''s wrist. He smirked. "Oh? Fancy watch. Where''d you get it?" Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Robert''s lips twitched in the faintest ghost of a smile. "A friend." Andrei didn''t push, only giving a knowing nod. As they reached an intersection in the corridors, they paused, each man set on a different path. ¡°Thanks, Andrei. I appreciate your input.¡± "Don''t mention it," Andrei replied, then smirked. "Especially not to Albert." Robert chuckled, a rare sound in the bleakness of their world. "You have nothing to worry about. See you around." With that, they parted, Andrei disappearing into the labyrinth of the facility while Robert made his way toward the elevator. But his mind remained restless. Where was Edwin? Where was Albert really disappearing to? And why¡ªwhy had the truth of what happened been buried so deep that even the people who knew the truth were afraid to speak it? ¡°Maybe they¡¯re just like me, waiting for the right moment.¡± He murmured under his breath. He arrived at the elevator and pushed the call button. Once inside, he pushed the Fourth Level button, the events of the day still lingering in his mind. The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing the dimly lit hallway of the Fourth Level. The sterile air carried the faint scent of antiseptic and something heavier-something that smelled like fear. Before Robert could take a step forward, a figure moved toward him with quiet urgency. Lilith Cenilera. Her face was pale, lined with exhaustion, her sharp eyes darting toward the corridor behind him as if expecting someone to be watching. The tension in her shoulders was unmistakable. "Just the person I needed to see," she murmured, voice barely above a whisper. Without another word, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him into a nearby debriefing room. The small space was cast in muted shadows. Lilith shut the door behind them and swiftly drew the blinds, blocking out the prying eyes of the facility. When she turned back to him, her expression was drawn tight, her hands gripping the edge of the table as if to anchor herself before speaking something horrible. "Have you heard anything about Edwin?" she asked, the words laced with something between hope and dread. Robert exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Same whispers as before. Everyone seems to agree-either he''s on the Fifth Level, or he''s managed to escape entirely." He met her gaze. "And Albert? People think that''s where he''s been disappearing to." Something flickered in Lilith''s expression, something unreadable-then, she lowered her voice. "Albert''s been in the infirmary for blood transfusions. Twice this week." Robert''s brow furrowed. "Transfusions? Why?" She shook her head. "I don''t know. No wounds, no visible injuries-just blood loss." She hesitated, her grip tightening on the table. "Something strange is happening, Robert." Before he could respond, the faint sound of footsteps echoed past the door. They both froze, their breaths shallow as they waited. The steps lingered, then faded into nothingness. When the silence settled again, Robert exhaled. But before he could say anything, a different weight settled in his chest-the unspoken burden hanging between them. "How are the survivors from the East Gate holding up?" he asked. Lilith''s posture sagged, the weight of the question pressing down on her. "Not well. Some... didn''t make it. We''re stretched thin¡ª supplies, manpower-it''s all coming apart." Her voice wavered, and for the first time, she looked truly exhausted. Then, after a brief pause, she spoke again, softer this time. "What do you think... about Edwin?" Robert''s gaze lingered on her, reading the pain behind her eyes. "He was cornered," he said finally. "Whatever he did... it was for his freedom. I think he did what best fit the situation." Lilith flinched as if the words struck something raw inside her. Her hands clenched into fists. "He hurt people, Robert. Good people. And now I''m here, trying to save what''s left." "Don''t carry that burden alone," Robert murmured. His voice was steady, firm. "Edwin''s choices... weren''t yours to make." Her breath hitched. She turned away, blinking rapidly. "Some of these men won''t survive," she whispered. "They''re already burning bodies just down the hall. It feels like... hell. And I helped bring it about." Robert stepped closer, resting a hand on her shoulder. "If Edwin hadn''t fought here, he would''ve fought somewhere else. Maybe more people would''ve died. At least we''ve contained the worst." She shook her head, stepping out of his grasp. The sorrow that clung to her was suffocating. "That''s small comfort to me," she murmured. "''ll keep atoning... even if my hands are just as stained as Albert''s." Robert''s jaw tensed. "Don''t do something reckless," he warned. "You''re needed here." A weary, humorless chuckle escaped her lips. "Don''t worry," she said, though her tone suggested anything but reassurance. "I won''t do anything rash. Edwin still needs guidance." "Exactly," Robert agreed, his voice heavy with meaning. "My break is almost over, but I''ll keep you updated. Just promise me-you''ll rest." She only nodded, though the exhaustion in her eyes said otherwise. As they stepped out of the room, they didn''t speak. There was nothing more to say. Lilith turned back toward the infirmary, disappearing into the shadows of her own guilt. Robert walked in the opposite direction, the weight of unanswered questions and unspoken regrets weighing on his body. Chapter 28: James McCain As if the smoke itself had come alive, thick and sentient, it coiled around us, devouring the world in a suffocating shroud. And then-nothing. A blink, a void, an absence of space. When reality reformed, it spat me out into a dim, grey chamber carved from lifeless stone. The cold seeped into my bones before I could even register the sharp bite of the ground beneath me. The air-stale, heavy-pressed against my lungs like an unseen weight. My vision swam, caught between the lingering disorientation and the raw ache clawing its way through my limbs. I had been thrown-discarded like something useless-against the unyielding stone wall. A sharp, biting pain lanced through my ribs as I struggled to rise, every nerve in my body screaming protest. My pulse thundered in my ears, slow and dragging, as if exhaustion itself had sunk its claws into my heart. Thump! Thump! Thump! The sound echoed beyond my chest, vibrating through the walls. The echo of my heartbeat seemed to resonate with the pounding in my head¡ªthe throbbing in my veins. It bounced through the very foundation of this place. A place that felt... wrong. Have I been here before? What happened to me back then? What happened after I blacked out? Albert had already turned his back to me, his tall frame swallowed by the flickering shadows as he moved toward a rusted sink in the corner. The pipes groaned in protest as he twisted the handle, sending a sluggish trickle of water spiraling down the drain. He watched the sludge pour out from the faucet until it cleared up. For a while, something stirred deep within me. A flicker of familiarity. Something about this scenario felt like it happened before. Is this not my first time being here? I swallowed hard, the taste of iron lingering on my tongue. My throat burned as I forced out the question that had been clawing at the edges of my consciousness, my voice rough when I finally spoke. "Where are we?" Albert didn''t turn. His fingers drummed absently against the metal sink, his reflection fractured in the grime-covered mirror above it. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, finally- "Somewhere no one will find us." His voice was quiet. Too quiet. Like a thread pulled taut, threatening to snap. He quietly started to fill a bucket of water. In front of him, resting on the wall was a shattered mirror. In the fractured mirror, his reflection seemed... off. Twisted at the edges. Like something was standing just behind him, just beyond the reach of the dim light. A chill crawled down my spine. The weight of something unspoken hung between us, thick as the stale air pressing against my skin. My breath slowed, steadying as I pushed myself fully to my feet. He exhaled sharply, his hands gripping the edge of the sink. The dim light caught the tension in his jaw, the flicker of something unreadable in his expression. Then, finally, he turned to face me. The moment the freezing water hit me, it felt like a thousand knives piercing my skin at once. A violent shudder wracked my body as I gasped, choking on the shock. "What the fuck!?" If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Albert only smiled. Not a kind smile, not even a cruel one-just that calm, knowing smirk that made my blood boil. "Good," he said, stepping back, watching me with a calculating gaze. "That got your attention." I sucked in a shuddering breath, my soaked clothes clinging to my body like a second layer of skin. The icy water seeped into every wound, every bruise, amplifying the pain until I felt it in my bones. My fingers twitched involuntarily, my body reacting to the sheer cold. He crouched down, tilting his head. "I have to say... I''m impressed. Staying conscious after taking a bullet to the head? That''s not just stubbornness-that''s exceptional." His voice held an almost admiring lilt, but his eyes were sharp, dissecting me, reading me like a book only he knew how to interpret. I blinked, my breath hitching as the numbing chill clawed its way into my limbs. I clenched my jaw, trying to steady my voice. "W-w-why.." The words tumbled out, broken, fragile. I sucked in another breath, blinking against the water dripping down my face. The dim light overhead flickered, casting jagged shadows across the stone walls. And then, clarity. Albert. My captor. My tormentor. The man who once trained me, shaped me, molded me into something I barely recognized anymore. Every muscle in my body tensed, but all I could manage was a single, fractured question. "Albert... why am I here?" His smirk faded, the momentary amusement draining from his face as irritation flickered across his features. "I''m the one asking the questions," he said coldly. His eyes darkened, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. "Did you really think you could escape?" I opened my mouth, but he cut me off before I could find the words. "You thought you could outsmart me?" His voice sharpened, a blade wrapped in scorn. "I expected more from you. That was a pathetic attempt." He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "You know better." His hand moved in a sweeping gesture, motioning toward me as if I were some failed experiment, something less than what I should have been. "Once, you had control over your mutation," he continued, his voice laced with something between frustration and disappointment. "Remember the training? The exercises? You were impenetrable. No one could touch you." For a moment, something flickered in his gaze-something deeper than anger. A glimmer of loss. He was searching my face, scanning me, dissecting me, as if trying to find remnants of the person he believed I was meant to be. But there was only silence. The memories he spoke of hovered on the edges of my mind, intangible, distant. Echoes of something I should remember but couldn''t grasp. They clung to the air like ghosts-present, but just out of reach. I swallowed hard, the weight of his expectations pressing down on me like a vice. Was I really able to control my mutation before? If I could, why can¡¯t I now? Why even tell me this? And in that moment, I realized something chilling. He wasn''t just angry. He was disappointed. He leaned in closer, his breath a whisper of something cold against my skin. His eyes, sharp and predatory, dissected me inch by inch, searching for cracks. Then, as if he''d unearthed some private amusement, a twisted smile curved his lips. "I was almost tempted to give you a lecture on my research," he mused, his voice slick with condescension. A soft, mocking laugh slipped through his teeth. "But... you don''t remember, do you?" He tilted his head, studying me like a puzzle missing too many pieces. "All of that''s gone. Just as well." The cruel satisfaction in his tone slithered down my spine, coiling into an unbearable weight in my chest. My fingers twitched at my sides. There was something I should have said, something I should have known, but the words-like the memories-were gone, stripped away and discarded like useless scraps. In their place was an empty, yawning void, a hollow space where a sense of self should have been. A flicker of something¡ªanger? Frustration?¡ª rose in my throat, but I forced it down, burying it beneath rigid silence. And that silence, my failure to respond, was exactly what he wanted. I could see it in the gleam of his eyes, the slow satisfaction unfurling in the way he straightened, basking in my confusion like it was a victory he had already won. "So tell me," he continued, voice dropping into something quieter, sharper. "How did you manage to do it?" I swallowed, resisting the urge to take a step back. "I remember," he went on, almost idly, as though recalling an old story. "I told the infirmary to step you down. They assured me you wouldn''t be going anywhere. And yet..." He spread his hands, feigning incredulity. "You escaped. Without so much as making a single sound. Without damaging the restraints. Without being seen, you slipped past locked doors, past guards, past every safeguard meant to keep you here." His smile faded, replaced by something colder. "All of these things you could never have done alone." His gaze darkened, pinning me in place. "So who was it? Who helped you?" I can¡¯t possibly tell him the truth. Who knows what this egomaniac will do to them if I tell him. My only option is to lie. When I looked up to answer him, I froze from a feral fear. Like muscle memory, my mind went blank the moment I saw his upset face. As if his face couldn¡¯t get even more demonic, a new haunting image of him was etched in my mind. A quiet dread curled around my ribs. I wanted to answer, I wanted to tell him anything to get him to stop staring at me the way he was. So I threw out a random name without much thought. ¡°It was James McCain.¡± Chapter 29: The Hollow Prison "It was James McCain." The lie rolled off my tongue smoothly, but I could feel the weight of it settle in my chest like a stone. I forced a smirk, shrugging as if it were nothing. "We had a nice little chat one day while walking to your lab. Turns out, even your most trusted men like to talk." Albert''s expression didn''t change immediately. For a second, he simply stared, his dark eyes studying me. Then, slowly, his lips twisted into a sneer as if he was able to discern the truth. "Bullshit." Albert''s voice was soft, almost amused. But his eyes¡ªsharp and dissecting¡ª told a different story. He stepped closer, his breath warm against my face. "James? That man would tear out his own tongue before he spoke a word against me. Try again." I tilted my head, feigning nonchalance even as my pulse thundered in my ears. "Then why don''t you ask him yourself?" His fingers twitched. Just a small movement, but enough to send a ripple of unease through me. Albert snaked his way to me, his small frame blocked out the only light source in the room, his shadow cast over me like a shadowy coffin. His mere proximity added weight to my already exhausted body. "Was it Lilith?" he asked, his voice eerily calm now. "Nope." I exhaled, making it sound effortless, as if I was bored of this whole exchange. "It was the same guy who escorted me back and forth every day. Said he was one of your personal guards He told me about the tunnel on the Fourth Level. Even walked me to the entrance." Albert cocked his head, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. "I don''t believe you," he murmured, his tone almost thoughtful. "You''re not stupid enough to spill the truth so easily." A slow smile tugged at his lips, but it didn''t reach his eyes. "But you know what they say." He leaned forward just enough for the dim light to cast jagged shadows across his sharp features. "The truth is always hidden in the lie." I smirked. Casually. Effortlessly. Or at least, that''s what I told myself. But beneath the table, my fingers curled so tight my nails dug into flesh, grounding me in pain. Because that was the only thing I could control in this moment¡ª myself. The urge to yell and attack him was nearly overwhelming. Yet I knew deep down that even if I did try. It would be a repeat of what ended up happening at the gate when I came to after my rampage. He was trying to pick apart my words, to twist them until they bled the real answer. He knew just as well as I did, I was lying. "Perhaps I should go have a little chat with James," he mused. "See if anyone caught his attention lately. Cross-reference some reports. You wouldn''t mind, would you?" I met his gaze, forcing a smirk. "Go ahead. You''d just be wasting your time." His smirk faded, replaced by something colder. He was silent for a long moment, the air between us thick with something heavy, suffocating. Then, almost lazily, he said, "Now that I think of it... The last report I got now from the network mentioned that James, Lilith, and Robert were found and rescued together." His voice was deceptively casual, but his eyes sharpened, piercing through me like needles. "Perhaps I should start with them. What do you think? Isn¡¯t it strange for them to have met up?" A flicker of fear curled in my gut, but I swallowed it down immediately. I couldn''t let him see it. I had to protect them just as they protected me. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. I shrugged. "Knock yourself out." He stared at me, his lips pressing into a thin line. Then, finally, he exhaled, running a hand through his dark hair before stepping back. "Just know this." His voice dropped, each word carrying the weight of a promise. "I will root out every last traitor in this facility." The air seemed to grow heavier around us, his shadow and the atmosphere pressed against my ribs. "And as for you..." His gaze darkened, a cruel amusement flickering behind his eyes. "You''re not going anywhere. Consider this your permanent home. For now." A slow, mocking smile curled at the edges of his lips. "You know," Albert mused, adjusting the cuff of his pristine sleeve, "I always found gardening relaxing. Cutting away the weak, the diseased, the ones that don''t belong. It keeps everything... orderly. Functioning." He glanced at me, his smile slow, deliberate. "You understand, don''t you?" And with that, he strode toward the wall, leaving me trapped in the cold, stale air of my cell, the weight of his words lingering like a noose around my throat. With a flicker of movement, Albert reached for the wall, his fingers brushing against something unseen in the dim light. And then-he was gone. Not through a door. Not through any means I could comprehend. Just... gone. The space where he had stood was now empty, save for the ghost of his laughter, curling through the air like smoke, seeping into the cracks of my mind. I stared, my breath shallow, my chest tightening. "What the hell was that?" My voice was hoarse, raw with confusion and the simmering heat of something deeper-something sharp, bitter. Anger. "Was he even real? How did we go from the gate to... wherever the fuck this is?" Silence. A suffocating, deafening silence. I forced myself to move to the wall, every movement sluggish, my body still rattled from whatever had just happened. The cold concrete pressed against my skin, leeching the warmth from my bones. I took in my surroundings-one bleak, empty detail at a time. A single room. No windows. No way to gauge the passage of time. The walls- sterile, lifeless cement-stretched endlessly in every direction, pressing in, crushing. A thin mattress sat abandoned in the corner, more like an afterthought than an actual bed. A sink-old, rusted-dripped a slow, deliberate stream of cold water, its rhythmic patter the only sound in this tomb of a room. A fridge hummed softly in the silence, hollow and useless, the stale scent of its emptiness settling thick in my throat. Even the air vents-too small, too perfectly placed-mocked the very idea of escape. Everything here had been designed with precision. With purpose. With Albert''s suffocating sense of control. I clenched my fists, my nails biting into my palms. This must be my new cell. I pushed off the wall, my muscles burning, my head still reeling from the lingering haze of displacement. I ran my hands along the walls, searching for anything-a seam, a hinge, a hidden mechanism that explained how he had slipped away so easily. But there was nothing. Only cold, unyielding stone, indifferent to my existence. "This is hell," I whispered. My voice cracked against the stillness, swallowed whole by the walls. "It''s him... torturing me... or maybe just isolating me forever." I turned in slow circles, the room somehow shrinking with every breath I took. "The silence was thick, viscous-like tar coating my lungs. I could hear the creak of my own joints, the rasp of my breath dragging through my throat. Even the air carried weight, stale with the scent of stone, smoke and blood. Then¡ª A hum. Faint at first. Like the whisper of air through a vent. Like the distant murmur of voices just beyond reach. But it grew. It swelled. The steady, pulsing rhythm of blood in my ears twisted, distorted, until it became something louder. A roar. A maddening, all-consuming roar that clawed at the edges of my sanity. "All I have is a bed, a sink, and an empty fridge." My voice was barely more than a breath now. The words felt distant, detached, like they belonged to someone else. I pressed my hands against my head. I needed to focus. I needed to think. But the room was closing in, each second stretching longer than the last. I sucked in a sharp breath-too fast, too shallow. My pulse spiked, erratic, matching the fevered drumming in my skull. My hands trembled at my sides. No. No, I can¡¯t lose control. Not here. Not now. First, it was a soft press of my forehead against the wall. Just to feel something solid. Real. Then harder. And harder. The dull ache spread, a welcome distraction from the void clawing at the edges of my mind. Somewhere, a drop of something warm trickled down my temple. I didn''t care. Again. A sharp, blinding jolt of pain shot through my skull momentarily relieving me of the piercing pounding in my ears. Good. Again. The impact sent a fresh ripple of agony through my nerves that continued to drown out the thundering ringing in my ears. It felt even better. Again. A coppery taste bloomed in my mouth, my breaths ragged, uneven. The pain grounded me. The pain reminded me. I wasn''t gone. Not yet. But the nothingness was still there, waiting. Watching. Patient. And if I stayed here long enough, I knew-it would swallow me whole. Chapter 30: Home (Albert’s POV — Part 1) The world came back to me in fragments. A dull hum. The scent of antiseptic. The sterile burn of fluorescent lights pressing against my closed eyelids. My consciousness dragged itself from the depths of unconsciousness, slow and disoriented. My body felt heavy, foreign, as if it no longer belonged to me. Blurred figures shifted around me-guards, medical staff, their voices a muffled haze in my ears. Then, clarity struck like a blade. I inhaled sharply, eyes snapping open to an unfamiliar ceiling. Cold air kissed my bare skin. The sharp scent of sterilization stung my nose. Where am I? The realization hit harder than the pain in my skull. This was the infirmary. I sat up abruptly, my muscles protesting the movement, but the discomfort was nothing compared to the surge of irritation flaring in my chest. My gaze flicked downward-my clothes were gone. I was stripped to nothing but the crisp, impersonal fabric of a hospital gown. I hated these rags, they left me vulnerable. Exposed. This is unacceptable. A voice, high with relief, cut through the fog. "Councilor Albert!" I turned, eyes narrowing on Nurse Aninlie as she rushed toward me, the soft patter of her footsteps drowned beneath the pounding in my head. I overused it. It was too far of a great distance. "You''re awake!" she breathed, a note of gratitude in her tone. "How are you feeling?" I ignored the question. Instead, I glared at her, sharp and expectant. "Where are my clothes?" My voice was hoarse but carried its usual precision-a scalpel wrapped in silk I liked to think of it. Aninlie hesitated, caught between her training and the unmistakable authority in my tone. That¡¯s the right reaction. Recovering quickly, she stepped closer, pressing a cool hand against my forehead without warning. "Your fever''s gone down significantly," she murmured, concern softening her features. "That''s good news, but you need to rest-" Smack! Quickly I waved her off with a sharp flick of my wrist. "Spare me the pleasantries." My patience was already wearing thin. "My clothes. Now." The nurse''s lips pressed together, her smile turning tight, cautious. "You should take a moment to regain your strength, Councilor," she said gently, stepping back as if wary of the growing tension. "I''ll retrieve them." My gaze burned into her for a lingering second before I exhaled, slowly, completely in my control as it should be. "See that you do." My voice was even, but the weight behind it made it clear-this was not a request. Now that you¡¯re reminded of your place. Do your job appropriately. As soon as the nurse was gone, l yanked the flimsy hospital gown from my shoulders, the cold air biting against my skin. My breath hitched as my fingers grazed the wound beneath my ribs¡ªa raw, pulsing reminder of what the belt had cost me. The skin was angry and red, the deep bruising spreading like ink beneath the surface. It would heal. Everything did. My eyes flicked to the side table, where the belt lay. It had done its job. But at an unimaginably steep price. Behind me, the low shuffle of boots reminded me, l wasn''t alone. The two guards stood at silent attention, their presence an unwanted weight pressing against the edges of my patience. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Finally, one of them, Apstra, cleared his throat. Hesitating to speak to me, he lowered his voice. "Councilor Albert, Sir," he began, measured but uncertain. "May I ask... were we able to apprehend your son?" The words sent a slow, simmering pulse of irritation through my veins. I turned my head just enough to catch Apstra in my periphery. The sharp lines of my expression must have warned him, but I answered anyway, voice cold, clipped. "Yes," I said. "He''s somewhere he''ll never escape." Apstra hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly before he dared another question. "The Fifth Level?" My gaze snapped to him fully. "That doesn''t exist," I said, the words cutting like a blade. Silence thickened the air. Apstra stiffened, his throat bobbing as he fumbled for a response, but before he could, Samuel-the smarter of the two-elbowed him hard enough to make him flinch. "Apologies, Sir," Samuel said quickly, his voice smooth. At least he knew better than to tread where he wasn''t invited. I held Apstra''s gaze for a moment longer, watching the faint flicker of unease in his stance before I exhaled and turned away, dismissing the matter with a wave of my hand. They were nothing more than noise. My mind was already elsewhere, filled with the doubtless responsibilities and errands that came with my position. Once I¡¯m out of here, I need to go to my office to submit the results from Edwin¡¯s transformation. I¡¯ll then have to prepare food to fill Edwin¡¯s fridge. I need to send the belt to the R&D after I deliver the food. Next I need to focus on my health and recover from the lost blood. Afterwards I will conduct some in person meetings starting with James. Quite the list is forming already. I reached out for the belt. It was cold in my grip, the metal pressing into my palm like a silent vow. I stood before the door, my mind sifting through every variable, every possibility. Edwin couldn''t have escaped alone. Someone had helped him. Someone within these walls. I inhaled slowly, steadying the slow burn of rage simmering beneath my ribs. No matter. I would find the traitor soon enough. Hmm, why don¡¯t I stir the pot and get the traitor nervous. Without turning, I addressed the guards behind me, my voice smooth, measured, but edged with ice. "Just so you''re aware," I said, "Edwin didn''t do this on his own. Someone here aided him, and I will be evaluating everyone soon. In the meantime, make yourselves useful-pull up every security feed from yesterday and bring it to my office. I''ll be discharging soon." I heard them shift, a brief hesitation before they answered. I didn''t care to hear their response. Instead, my grip on the belt tightened, its weight grounding me as I continued. Let¡¯s stir it some more. "Since you both seem adept at hearing and spreading rumors," I murmured, tilting my head slightly, "spread this one to everyone. I will be conducting a test soon. Participation will be mandatory." Silence. Then a barely perceptible stiffening in their posture. They understood what that meant. Good. They¡¯ll do exactly as I need them to. Without another word, I turned, stepping through the door, leaving them to exchange whatever wary glances they pleased. Their discomfort didn''t matter. The truth would come out soon enough. I heard their hurried footsteps as they scrambled to follow. "We''re here to ensure your safety, sir," Samuel ventured, his tone cautious. I stopped abruptly, pivoting on my heel so fast he nearly collided into me. The air between us tightened as I fixed him with a glare sharp enough to carve through steel. "I don''t need protection," I said, my voice quiet but heavy with finality. "Leave me. I have work to do." Samuel swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. Neither he nor Apstra moved for a long moment. But they knew better than to challenge me. I turned away, striding down the corridor without looking back. Their presence-like everything else in this place-was irrelevant. The halls stretched before me, endless and sterile, the artificial lights casting sharp shadows against the walls. Every step echoed, but the sound was hollow, distant. Somewhere deep in the pit of my chest, a slow, gnawing ache pressed in, curling through my ribs like smoke. They thought this was about obsession. They thought this was about control. Fools. This is about peace. They have no clue what¡¯s to come and we need to be prepared. At all costs. And soon, everything would fall back into place. The rumors of my obsession only fuel my iron grip. It is my undying madness for a cure that has everyone put their faith in me despite my grip. You fools lost the right to stand up to me a long time ago. The polished stone walls amplified every sound ¡ªthe distant clatter of my bare steps, the low hum of unseen machinery. The air smelled of antiseptic and cold steel. As I approached the elevator, the rhythm of my steps unbroken, a voice called out. "Councilor Albert!" I turned just as Aninlie rounded the corner, her arms piled high with my neatly folded clothes. Her breath was uneven, a light sheen of sweat on her brow from rushing. Too much urgency for something so trivial. She barely had time to slow before her foot snagged on the trailing edge of my coat. With a startled gasp, she stumbled forward, the clothes spilling from her grasp in a scattered heap across the gleaming floor. A sharp inhale. A moment of silence. Then she scrambled to gather them, her hands trembling slightly as she fumbled with the fabric. "I''m so sorry, sir!" Her voice wavered, her face flushed with embarrassment. "I must''ve gotten dizzy for a moment." I exhaled, more in irritation than anything else. The sight of my clothes on the ground, the wrinkles forming as she hurried to collect them-it was an offense to me. But I tempered my expression, schooling my voice into something measured, something that would ease the tightness in her shoulders. "It''s alright," I said, stepping toward her. "Thank you for hurrying. Now, on my order, go take a two-hour rest." Her head snapped up, surprise flickering across her face before it melted into gratitude. "Yes, sir! Thank you!" Standing quickly, her balance was still slightly off. I didn''t linger to ensure she obeyed-I expected nothing less. Turning away, I stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for the first level¡ªheading to my office. The doors slid shut with a mechanical hiss, enclosing me in silence. For the first time since waking, I allowed my shoulders to relax. He''ll never escape that prison. The thought surfaced, slow and certain, curling like smoke through my mind. I designed it myself. Built it meticulously over the years, ensuring every inch was perfect, every flaw eliminated. A last-resort bunker, buried deep beneath the earth where light would never reach. Modeled after our first home together 8 years ago. Every entrance is sealed. Every passage above the fourth level leading to it was destroyed, filled with cement, reduced to nothing but solid rock and reinforced cold steel. No one will ever get in. And no one will ever get out. A slow exhale left my lips as the elevator ascended, the weight of certainty settling over me like an iron shroud. Edwin is exactly where he belongs. He¡¯s home. Chapter 31: Call From City K (Albert’s POV — Part 2) The elevator doors slid open with a mechanical hiss. I stepped out, the weight of my fully dressed form settling over me like armor. The polished floor beneath my boots reflected the dim, sterile glow of overhead lights, each step echoing with quiet authority as I strode down the hallway toward my office. l adjusted my cuffs as I moved, my stride unwavering. The air was cool, laced with the scent of metal and old paper. I exhaled slowly, the rhythm of my breath controlled, calculated. I am in power Breath- I am in control. As I reached my door, I retrieved my key card, sliding it through the scanner with a practiced motion. The light flickered green, and the door unlocked with a soft click. Pushing it open, I stepped inside, allowing the familiar detachment of the space to settle over me. Everything was precisely as I had left it. No disturbances. No traces of intrusion. Good. Crossing the room, I lowered myself into the sleek leather chair behind my desk, fingers already moving with effortless precision across the keyboard. The cool glow of the monitor bathed my hands in pale light as I input an intricate passcode-one so complex only I could remember it. A final keystroke. The screen flickered to life, illuminating my face in pale light. The secured file unlocked, and before me, a detailed schematic of a sleek metallic belt materialized on the screen. The Avien Belt. A masterpiece of engineering. A symbol of power. A tool of absolute control. The end goal. The ability enhancer. My creation. The Avien Belt. I leaned back, my fingers steepled beneath my chin as I studied the image. The intricate mechanisms, the interlocking plates-every detail was as it should be. Every calculation was precise. However, there was still a fatal flaw in its function. My fingers ghosted over my ribs, where bruises and the raw, punctured skin pulsed beneath my uniform. The pain was irrelevant. The belt had worked. That was all that mattered. Now I can send it down to R&D to slim it down. A flicker of satisfaction stirred in my chest. I''m finally one step closer to the end. I just need to increase its output while decreasing the needed amount of blood. That thought alone sent a quiet thrill through me. Then, a sudden flicker of red light stole my attention. I turned, gaze landing on the secure phone resting on the nearby table. The dull, insistent glow of the alert pulsed like an unwelcome heartbeat. Someone was calling on the council line. I rose from my seat, striding over with a measured pace, already knowing who it was. Fallen City K. A familiar scowl pulled at my features. Of course. ¡°Of course, it had to be that bastard,¡± I muttered, lips curling in disdain. ¡°I wonder what he¡¯s sticking his nose into this time.¡± Lifting the receiver, I brought it to my ear, my fingers tightly gripping the cold plastic. A voice slithered through the line, insufferably smooth and playful. "Hey there, Albert." A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Marcus. My lips curled in disdain. Marcus¡¯s voice oozed through the line, casual yet laced with an edge. ¡°Didn¡¯t think you¡¯d answer, considering your recent¡­ infirmary visit.¡± I could hear the smirk in his tone, the carefully measured condescension woven between his words. I inhaled slowly, steadying the simmer beneath my ribs. "Marcus," I greeted, my voice even, devoid of warmth. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" A low chuckle followed. The kind that grated against my patience. "Oh, you know me," he drawled. "Just keeping up with old friends. Making sure you haven''t lost your edge." I exhaled slowly, forcing the embers of my temper into submission. "You and I both know you don''t have friends, Marcus." "Ah, but I have allies. And enemies. The distinction gets blurry sometimes. Take you, for instance-still haven''t decided which category you fall into." My grip on the phone tightened further. "If you called to waste my time, I''ll assume the next time I see your name, I should ignore it." "Tsk, tsk," Marcus chided. "And here I thought you''d be grateful for the check-in. What happened to your manners, Albert?" "My patience ran out the moment you dialed this number," I said coolly. "State your business." A beat of silence stretched between us. Then, Marcus''s tone shifted. The amusement was still there, but laced with something sharper. "You''ve been busy." A slow exhale left my lips. "I always am." ¡°Far too occupied with¡­ a certain someone.¡± A slow, simmering irritation curled in my chest. I wasn''t in the mood for his games. "Watch that condescending tone," I warned. "You didn''t call to make small talk. You''re fishing. This is about the breach, isn''t it?" Marcus chuckled, smug. ¡°You know me too well. So, tell me, it was your son, wasn''t it?" Marcus whispered, his voice a blade slipping between the ribs. "Quite the mess, Albert. One hound, and your facility''s in shambles. Now, that''s impressive. Has that little weapon project of yours finally seen some... progress?" Crrrk! My grip on the receiver caused it to crack, white-hot anger bleeding through my fingers as the plastic dug into my skin. ¡°That is none of your concern.¡± ¡°Oh, but it is,¡± Marcus replied, his voice nonchalant but his intentions clear. ¡°I am, after all, responsible for security across every Fallen City. How could I not be¡­ curious?¡± "How many spies have you planted here, Marcus? There¡¯s no other way you¡¯d know." "Enough to keep you in check," he answered smoothly. "You''ve always been the hardest to read. And harder to control. Can you really blame me for being... extra cautious?" There it was. The real reason for this call. Not curiosity. Not concern. It was his way of taking control. Showing off his dominance like some wild animal. "You will stay out of my affairs." My voice was ice, every syllable laced with warning. "You have your own city to run. Focus on that before you make yourself an enemy." ¡°I would¡­ however,¡± he played with his words. Speaking each word slowly to irritate me, ¡°it seems like the rumors have even reached my ears. A lot of lives lost. For what exactly?¡± "Rumors bore me," I said smoothly. "Perhaps you should seek entertainment elsewhere. " I played it off as if it was nothing. "Oh, I would, truly," he admitted, "but when rumors start pointing to countless deaths, classified projects, and certain councilors acting erratically... well. It becomes both a professional and personal interest." "You always did have a flair for dramatics." "And you always did have a problem with transparency." His voice remained light, but the weight beneath it was unmistakable. He was watching Waiting. Sinking his teeth into something he thought he could unravel to take me down. I straightened, adjusting the sleeve of my uniform with practiced ease. "Careful, Marcus," I murmured, my tone a blade honed to precision. "You wouldn''t want to involve yourself in something beyond your comprehension." He let out a low whistle. "Ah, there he is. The real Albert." "Was I pretending before?" "Who knows?" he mused. "But you always did enjoy playing the long game. Just be careful, Councilor." His voice dipped, amusement curdling into something quieter. "You''re not the only one moving pieces on the board." I forced my breath to steady, even as my patience wore thin. "Spit it out, Marcus. What do you want?" "A heads-up," he said breezily. "I''ll be sending one of my best to you. Name''s Yamaki. He''s the most loyal soldier I have. He''ll be your personal guard. Do treat him well." I stiffened. "Don''t bother. I''ll send him right back." "Ah, but you won''t." His amusement curled into something cruel. "Because the transfer was already approved. By your hand. Didn''t you read the fine print before agreeing? Yamaki''s already on his way." My patience snapped. ¡°Enough! Stay out of my affairs. Worry about your own city. I don¡¯t have time to entertain you.¡± A soft, mocking laugh drifted through the receiver. ¡°My apologies, old friend. But you know I¡¯ll get the information, one way or another. In the meantime, do take care of yourself. After all, you¡¯re the icon of the council. The first Councilor, the creator of the Fallen City¡¯s. Your image reflects on all of us. So do your best to stay in line.¡± He chuckled more as if he had won a long fought game. "Oh, and Albert. I don''t make enemies¡ª I simply inherit them, so do your best to never cross that line. Once you do, just know I never lose track of my prey." His voice dipped into something quieter, more poisonous. "Whether they like it or not." I ripped the receiver away from my ear and slammed it down, the sharp click reverberating through the empty room. "Damn bastard," I muttered, my teeth grinding together. Marcus was testing me. Pushing boundaries and testing the waters. Watching to see if l''d flinch. As if l''d ever tell him anything. Marcus was always a snake, but he wasn''t a fool. If he was sniffing around, it meant something had slipped. Someone had talked. Someone had made a mistake. And I would find them. I turned back to my desk, the screen''s cold glow casting fractured shadows across the room. The Avien Belt file remained open, its schematics a stark reminder of what was still at stake and what still had to be achieved. My fingers hovered over the keyboard before I began typing. The belt works¡ªbut at a heavy price. Blood loss is substantial. If this continues, failure is inevitable. A more effective method to activate the virus is required. I sat back, exhaling slowly, my mind already racing ahead. I¡¯ll have to do something about General Marcus later. I leaned in towards the screen. The call from before replayed in my mind over and over, like a broken record stuck in a loop. The heavy presence of imaginary watchful eyes studying my every move lingered in my mind. Someone is spilling information. Looks like the traitor has ties to Marcus. I¡¯m sure they won¡¯t outright declare it. I need to check with James first. ¡°No, he¡¯s a minor issue. I need to do something to get rid of Council General Marcus now.¡± Chapter 32: Testing Loyalties (Albert’s POV — Part 3) I paced the length of my office, each step measured, deliberate. The sound of my boots against the polished floor echoed like a heartbeat against the hollow silence, steady but insistent. The walls around me felt closer than usual, pressing in, as if they too were listening, waiting-watchful. The air hung thick with the scent of old paper, metal, and something more insidious. A weight settled deep in my bones, one I had carried for years. But tonight, that weight had a name. Marcus. The thorn in my side. The man who played the hero of Fallen City K. They call him a hero, but he¡¯s nothing more than a viper who betrayed his own mentor, slithering his way to power under the guise of righteousness. His ideals, his ambitions¡ªhe wears them like armor, but I know the truth. He¡¯s poison, a toxin seeping into the council, and he¡¯s carved a place there with no permission from me. Now he¡¯s challenging me again, testing his limits, believing himself untouchable. That arrogance of his, that barely concealed defiance¡ªit¡¯s in every council meeting, every glance, every word he spits like venom. He¡¯s made it clear he answers to no one but himself. No respect for the order we established, for the hierarchy I built. He¡¯s an infection, spreading his influence through the cracks, and I¡¯ve let him go unchecked for far too long. I see it in his eyes. That gleam-sharp, knowing attitude of his. Daring me to challenge him. That smirk that slithers across his face, always mocking me. His twisted plans to have me lose face and my position in the council. That insufferable viper, slithering through the ranks of the Council as if he belonged. They called him a hero, but I know the truth. He is a disease festering in the shadows, whispering his poison into the ears of those who were once mine. He had no right. No permission. And yet, he thrived. Every glance, every word of his dripped with defiance, barely concealed beneath his veneer of righteousness. He carried himself like a man above consequence, like someone who believed himself untouchable. But he would learn. They all would. I stood, my hands bracing against the desk as my gaze flicked toward the city beyond my balcony. The horizon bled crimson, the sun''s last light spilling like fresh wounds over the rooftops. Below, the people carried on, blissfully unaware of the war that brewed in the Council chambers. Now onto the next matter. Stepping back inside, I sat in my chair, reaching for the phone. The cold metal of the receiver pressed against my palm, grounding me in the moment. The phone at my desk-separate from the Council line, untouched by outside ears¡ªwas my tether to the facility''s undercurrent. A direct vein to those who lived and died at my command. I lifted it to my ear. A soft, eager voice answered almost immediately. "Good evening, Sir! What can I do for you?" Her politeness was routine, expected, but tonight it grated against my mood. There was nothing polite about what I intended to do. "Radio James. Tell him to come to my office. Now." "Certainly, I''ll send out a summons." Click. I lowered the receiver with measured deliberation, my fingers lingering against its smooth surface. The moment stretched, a quiet before the storm. James. If his loyalty truly hung in the balance, then I would be the one to tip the scale back into my favor. I leaned back against my chair, fingers steepling beneath my chin. How should I play this? Would I grant him a final chance to prove himself, a fleeting opportunity to cling to my favor? Or should I strip him bare, pry into his mind with the precision of a blade and expose whatever secrets he hid beneath that obedient mask? I stepped onto the balcony, drawn to the open air like a man gasping for breath. The city stretched before me, smothered under the weight of the dying sun. The horizon bled crimson, spilling down the rooftops, pooling in the streets where the first torches flickered to life. The stone beneath my boots was cold, but the railing was colder still-like iron forged in the deep of winter. Gripping the iron bars, I let the chill bite into my fingers, tethering me into the moment. Below, the city pulsed with life, oblivious. Merchants packing up their wares, the elite returning to their homes, lovers stealing moments before darkness made their trysts more perilous. They did not know what was coming. They did not know that, behind these high walls, a war was at hand. It was fitting, somehow¡ªthe city lying under a shroud of red, waiting for night to claim it. People carried on, oblivious. But soon, they would understand. Soon, even Marcus would understand that power here is not granted by birthright, nor secured with hollow promises. Power is earned in blood. In sacrifice. In the quiet, merciless choices that carve a man down to his bones. He thinks he knows the cost of survival. He thinks he understands what it takes to hold this city in his grasp. But he has no idea what l''ve given. What l''ve lost. What I''m holding back from being unleashed. He doesn''t know the depths l''ve sunk to-for the council, for the future that only I have the will to shape. I drew in a slow breath, the cold air settling in my chest like tempered steel. The time would come. Marcus will be the first to fall. And I knew who would be the courier who plants that very seed. Immediately I returned to my desk and began to write. My recipient, the very man I feared the most. The largest threat to my Fallen City¡¯s. To humanity. Ramiro. I had the perfect bait to tempt him into action. I moved to my safe, my fingers deftly punching in the combination. With a heavy clunk, the mechanism released, revealing the neatly arranged vials within. Six in total. I plucked one from its place, the weight of the vial sat cool in my palm. The blue liquid inside shimmered under the dim light, swirling like a storm contained within glass¡ªa quiet promise of destruction. It was the perfect bait to get a bite. I carried the vial over to my desk, slipping it into a letter. ¡°Now all that¡¯s left,¡± I murmured, sealing the envelope, ¡°is to send it down the line with a death row inmate.¡± A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips as I scanned the manifest. ¡°Let¡¯s see when the next one is.¡± A sharp knock at the door cut through the silence, snapping me from my thoughts. I straightened, inhaling deeply, shoving the satisfaction of my scheme deep beneath the surface. "Enter." My voice was smooth. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. The door creaked open, and James stepped inside, his movements careful, calculated. His eyes flickered across my face, searching, gauging. As if I''d allow him even a sliver of insight. "Come," I said, motioning to the chair across from my desk. "Take a seat." He hesitated for only a fraction of a second before lowering himself into the chair, his posture rigid, hands resting in his lap. Even sitting, James was nearly my height-a fact that irritated me more than it should have. Power was often a matter of perception, and I refused to let him feel anything resembling equality. Thus I remained standing. I let the silence stretch between us, let it settle, let him feel the weight of it pressing down on him. Then, finally, I spoke. "Tell me, James," my voice was quiet, almost gentle-too gentle. "How is it that my son escaped under your watch?" A flicker of something crossed his face-guilt, fear, shame? He swallowed hard, his hands tightening into fists. "Sir, I-" I cut him off with a tilt of my head. "No excuses. No half-truths. Tell me why you allowed it to happen." He flinched at the word allowed, the implication sinking in. His throat bobbed as he struggled to find the right words, to navigate the razor-thin line between survival and damnation. James'' hands trembled ever so slightly as he wrung them together, his knuckles whitening under the pressure. The nervous energy radiating from him was palpable, almost intoxicating. I watched with a keen sense of satisfaction, though I didn''t allowmy amusement to surface. Not yet. I leaned forward, resting my fingers lightly on the polished surface of my desk. "Why did you allow it to happen?" My voice was quiet, calm-enough to be unsettling to the ear. The kind of calm that preceded in the eye of a hurricane. James flinched. "Sir, I-" His words faltered, dissolving into nothing. Sweat gathered at his brow, the glisten of fear betraying him. I exhaled slowly, deliberately, letting the silence stretch between us, suffocating and heavy. His hesitation irked me. No-it angered me. I straightened, letting my cold gaze bore into him. "Are you loyal to me?" "Yes, Sir!" He snapped to attention, the response almost frantic. Too eager. Too desperate to prove his loyalty. Perfect. ¡°Drop the Sir, it¡¯s getting annoying,¡± I said coldly. ¡°You can do so by taking this.¡± A vial similar to the one I had just taken out, glimmered in my hands. A tauntalising light blue. ¡°What is-¡° ¡°No questions. Will you take it?¡± I quickly interrupted. ¡°Yes, Councilor Albert!¡± He quickly shot out his arm. I smiled, but there was no warmth in it. With precise movements, I retrieved a syringe and filled it with the luminous liquid. The needle gleamed as I pressed it against his skin. James remained straight-faced through the first prick of the needle, but as I depressed the plunger, his breathing hitched. His fingers twitched, tightening against his thigh. James let out a low groan, his breathing uneven, his pulse hammering beneath his skin. "It feels like my body is starting to heat up..." I ignored his discomfort, watching with detached curiosity as the serum worked its way through his veins. I pressed the plunger further. Then it hit him. His body jerked violently, his muscles locking, then seizing as the first wave of agony tore through him. A strangled scream ripped from his throat-raw, guttural, almost inhuman. His fingers curled into fists so tight his nails threatened to break skin. Good. Halfway through the injection, his consciousness buckled under the weight of it. His head lolled, his eyes rolling back into his skull. Out cold. Pathetic. I depressed the plunger fully, draining every last drop of the luminous blue liquid into his bloodstream. He twitched once, then went still. "Now give it a minute," I murmured, setting the syringe down with a soft clink. My fingers brushed the holster at my hip, drawing my firearm. Just in case. Raising it, I took aim and pulled the trigger. The dart struck home, embedding itself in his shoulder. His body jerked slightly, but there was no response beyond that. "I can''t have you acting out while in the feral stage," I mused, returning the gun to its place. I sat back in my chair and waited. His skin, already pale, grew almost sickly in hue. His body convulsed in sharp, erratic spasms. His lips parted, breath hitching in shallow gasps as the transformation threatened to pull him under. Then, the tremors began to subside. His complexion shifted, losing that deathly pallor. Color seeped back into his skin, faint but present. His chest rose and fell with a steadier rhythm. He had survived. I reached for a small white packet, snapping it between my fingers. The sharp, acrid scent of ammonia flooded the air. James'' body jolted as if struck by lightning. His eyes flew open, wild and unfocused. He gasped, dragging in desperate, ragged breaths, his entire body trembling from the aftershocks. I leaned forward, my voice cool and steady. "Welcome back." His breath hitched as he struggled to steady himself. Slowly, reality settled into his gaze. He blinked, his expression shifting from disoriented to ashamed. Like a beaten dog crawling back to its master. Once he calmed down enough to speak, he shot up and returned to his original position. He swallowed hard, forcing himself upright, his spine straightening as if clinging to whatever shred of dignity he had left. "I... I''m sorry for that display, Councilor." "Now, I''ll answer the question you''re too afraid to ask," I said smoothly, folding my hands atop the desk. "What you just took was a diluted variant of the AV13N virus. A few minor tweaks¡ªnothing drastic." James'' eyes darted to me, suspicion flickering beneath his lingering pain. "You mean... you''re turning me into one of them?" I couldn''t stop the smirk that curled at the corner of my lips. "Heavens, no," I said with a mockery of reassurance. "What would I possibly gain from that?" His lips parted slightly as if he wanted to protest, but he thought better of it. Smart. Of course, he wouldn''t understand the purpose of this little experiment. That wasn''t his role. He was just another pawn, a test subject, another body placed exactly where I needed it. I leaned back in my chair, exhaling as I ran a gloved thumb over my wrist. "It''s fortunate, really," I mused. "This amount isn''t lethal." My eyes flicked back to his. Which means I now have a booster for the belt. James sat rigid, staring at me as if I had just spoken in tongues. He wouldn''t ask what I meant. He didn''t dare ask what I meant. I allowed the silence to stretch between us before finally waving a dismissive hand. "Don''t worry," I said. "It will flush out of your system in time. But do let me know if you experience anything... unexpected." James swallowed hard, nodding stiffly. "Yes, Councilor." I shifted forward, resting my forearms against the desk as my tone dropped to something more clinical. "One last thing." His shoulders tensed. I could see it in the way his fingers curled subtly against his knees, bracing himself for whatever I was about to say. "I''m reassigning you." His brows furrowed. "Reassigning me, sir?" "Effective immediately." I picked up a small data pad, tapping it lazily before glancing back up at him. "You''ve been promoted to tower squadron leader." For the first time, his expression flickered with something raw. Almost imperceptible, but there. "Which sector?" I didn''t hesitate. "Tower W45." His breath hitched-so soft, so quick, that if 1 wasn''t watching him like a hawk, I would have missed it. That was the moment he knew. I watched the blood drain from his face, his spine locking into a perfect, soldier-straight line. He didn''t speak. Didn''t argue. Didn''t beg. Good. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. And then, finally, in a voice that was not quite his own, he muttered, "l... I will accept it." It was like watching something snap inside him. A hollow thing, cracked and emptied. I allowed myself the luxury of a slow, satisfied nod. "That will be all." I flicked my fingers toward the door. "You''re free to go." James hesitated-just for a fraction of a second. Then, he rose to his feet, his movements mechanical and lifeless. He turned sharply and strode toward the exit, not once looking back. I leaned back in my chair, exhaling through my nose as the door clicked shut behind him. Another pawn moved. Chapter 33: Gauging and Probing (Albert’s POV — Part 4)I A week had passed. A week without new evidence. A week without answers. A week of nothing. It was infuriating. But I was not idle. I restocked Edwin''s fridge-small, menial tasks kept me from snapping at the incompetence around me. I doubled security on the fourth floor, ensuring that no one could so much as breathe in the wrong direction without my knowledge. And I continued down my carefully curated list of guards, hunting the next weak link. The next pawn that had failed me. The next prey. James had already served his purpose, but he had not been alone that night. There was another. The man who had been stationed with him before the escape. His name sat at the top of my list now, his fate already teetering on the edge of inevitability. But none of them knew the full extent of my plans. The tests, the injections, the meticulous record-keeping-there was more to it than a simple pursuit of control. The fools thought I was just playing god with my little experiments. They had no idea I had been solving a puzzle far greater than any of them could comprehend. The belt. I had begun to understand it, to predict it. The moment the serum entered a man''s bloodstream, I could see it. I could feel it. The ability that would manifest should he wear the device. Strength, speed, resilience-each was a code written in the very blood they spilled for me. At first, I had been reckless, experimenting blindly, injecting, drawing, pushing limits where I could. But I had refined my methods. I no longer needed to inject the serum at all-I could see everything I needed simply by analyzing their blood. A calculated test, a carefully measured process. No waste, no unnecessary risk. And all the while, my hunt continued. Who had dared to help my son? Someone had aided him. Someone within these very walls had betrayed me. And with every vial of blood I tested, with every drop of data l collected, I was closing in. Meanwhile, I had passed the belt itself down to the scientists on the second floor. I told them nothing of its true purpose. Only that it must be refined, made smaller, more efficient. They did not need to know more. They did not deserve to know more. This was how I had spent my first week since the incident. Waiting. Calculating. Watching. And most importantly, collecting data. And now, the next move was about to begin. I sat in my chair, fingers steepled beneath my chin, my gaze fixed on the door. The silence stretched, thick and expectant. I could feel the moment approaching, the inevitable weight of what was to come. Then¡ª Knock. Knock. Ah. Right on time. I leaned back slightly, exhaling slowly through my nose. The sound of my own breath was steady, controlled, measured. Unlike the heartbeat of the man standing just beyond that door. I could already imagine it-thudding against his ribs, erratic, uncertain. Fear is a powerful thing. "Enter." My voice was smooth, deliberate. The door creaked open, and there he was-the next piece on my board. I smiled. And the hunt continued. "Come in," I said, my voice measured, my expression an unshakable mask of calm precision. I folded my hands on the desk as the door opened, revealing the man I had summoned. "Take a seat. This will be a verbal exam. Answer honestly, and know that I''ll be taking a blood sample when we''re finished." Robert. He was a meticulous man-sharp, disciplined¡ª but there was always something just slightly off about him. A puzzle piece that almost fit but never quite clicked into place. He had been present the night of the escape, standing with the Doctor when James came to report directly to me. That alone made him suspect. And yet, I had never been able to pin him down. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. "Good afternoon, Councilor Albert. I''m here for my test." I straightened, allowing the faintest hint of a smile to cross my lips. It was a subtle expression, carefully curated-not one of warmth, but of quiet approval. Enough to keep him steady. Enough to keep him guessing. His gaze met mine, trained but flickering-just for a moment. A hesitation. It was barely perceptible, but I caught it. Worry? Fear? Yes. But there was something else beneath it, something buried too deep for mere nerves to explain. He saluted before sitting, his shoulders taut, his posture perfect. A man poised for something¡ª though he did not know what. Ileaned forward, steepling my fingers. The air between us tightened, charged with a quiet pressure. "First question: What are your thoughts about me?" A flicker of surprise crossed his face. He had not expected that. He blinked once, quickly, before regaining his composure. "There''s a lot I could say," he began, his tone careful. "You''re the councilor of our fallen city, the lead scientist for a cure... the man who gave me my position and who is helping take care of my sick father." Ilet the words settle between us, dissecting each one. There was gratitude there, yes-but something else clung to it. A hesitation. A weight when he mentioned his father. Did he resent the fact that he owed me? Did it unsettle him to be in my debt? Interesting. "I see," I said smoothly. "And why do you follow me?" Robert''s jaw tightened, though the shift was slight. "To do my part. To gain recognition. And to help my father get the care he needs." Honest. But incomplete. I tilted my head slightly. "Do you believe in the goal?" His answer came quickly, as though rehearsed. "If anyone can find a cure, it''s you, sir." A well-placed response. Not an outright declaration of belief, but a calculated statement of confidence. It lacked conviction, but not intelligence. I watched him for a moment longer, letting the silence stretch. He did not fidget. He did not break eye contact. A soldier through and through. "Do you know or have connections to Councilor Marcus?" A pause. It was less than a second, but I caught it. "No, sir." The words were steady. But that moment-that single heartbeat of hesitation-spoke louder than anything he could have said. I smiled again, slow and deliberate. I watched Robert closely, noting the minute shifts in his expression, the way his pulse beat just a fraction faster at his throat. He had been trained well, but no training could completely mask the truth. It was always there¡ªin the flicker of the eyes, in the pause before a response. I steepled my fingers. "What are your goals, Robert? Is it just recognition... or are you seeking a higher position?" There. That flicker again. Barely perceptible, but unmistakable. "A higher position, sir," he admitted, his voice measured but eager. "If possible, l''d like to work more closely with the scientists on the Second Level." Ambition. I had expected as much. He was capable, intelligent-too intelligent to be content as a simple guard. But ambition alone was not enough. I needed to know more. I tilted my head, letting my next words fall like a stone into still water. "And what do you think of my son''s role?" Robert froze. His composure cracked just slightly before he schooled his features again. "I''m sorry, sir?" I didn''t repeat myself. I only watched. He swallowed, carefully choosing his next words. "Do you think it''s too cruel to use my own son to find a cure?" A sharp intake of breath. He hadn''t expected this. "I may not like it," he admitted, each word spoken slowly¡ªhesitating, "but I know you do nothing without reason. If you believe he''s instrumental, then... I trust your judgment." Good. He understood how to answer. Not with defiance, not with blind agreement, but with pragmatic acceptance. A good trait, a useful one.. A faint sense of satisfaction crept into my chest. But I wasn''t finished. "Forget the remaining questions," I said, leaning forward slightly. "Just answer this last one." My voice dropped to a whisper, the air between us charged with unspoken weight. "Would you be willing to go undercover in another Fallen City?" For the first time, true emotion cracked through his careful mask. His face faltered-confusion, fear, calculation, all swirling in his expression as he tried to make sense of my request. "Uh-?" I continued, not allowing hesitation to fester. "You see, there''s an issue within the Council. I need people I can trust." I leaned back then, watching him closely, letting my words settle. Letting him see the path I was carving for him. The gleam of possibility. "You have much to gain, Robert. Do this, and I''ll bring your father from Midfallen to Center Point City." A pause. "What do you say?" A smile crept onto my face. But Robert only stared, horrified. I expected calculation, consideration-perhaps even the first hints of reluctant agreement. Instead, Robert only stared, horror creeping into his eyes. "I''m sorry, sir," he finally stammered, his voice thin, uneven. "But I don''t think it would be possible. I need to be close to my father in his final days. I... I couldn''t be far from him if the worst happens." Weakness. My smile didn''t waver, but something inside me cooled. Robert had just answered a far more important question than any I had asked. Still, it was a pity he couldn¡¯t see what lay before him. There was use in him that could¡¯ve played a huge role, however he already had his goal from the start. ¡°Thank you for your time, Robert. Now,¡± I added, holding up the needle, ¡°I just need a sample of your blood.¡± Robert extended his arm, obedient as ever, but his eyes... his eyes were elsewhere. Distant. Guarded. A man who had already begun building his walls. I drew his blood without a word. The needle pierced flesh, the vial filled, and still, he did not waver. There was no fear of the needle, no overt resistance-but there was something else. Something far more telling. A quiet kind of defiance. By the time he left, the door clicking shut behind him, I was already turning the vial in my hand. The crimson liquid within caught the light, swirling like liquid fire-vivid, alive, untainted by hesitation. How ironic. Defiance, no matter how faint, was a seed. Left unchecked, it could take root and grow. Robert isn¡¯t a traitor. At least, he¡¯s not a suspect yet. But I had learned long ago not to gamble on potential. I set the vial down on my desk with deliberate care, my fingers tapping against the glass. Weakness. It came in many forms, and Robert''s was as glaring as the city''s fractured skyline. He wasn''t motivated by greed, nor was he swayed by ideology. His loyalty was tethered to a single thing. His father. A plan began to crystallize, sharp and precise, leaning back in my chair. The silence in the room was thick, expectant, pressing in on all sides. Ilet the words slip into the air, more to myself than to anyone else. "If Robert''s loyalty is tethered to his father," I murmured, my voice steady, measured, "then there are two ways to sever that leash." One... remove the father. Two... hold his father captive and under special care, keeping hold on the leash Robert never knew I had.