Damien’s POVThe warehouse was dimly lit, the overhead bulbs flickering like dying stars. The air smelled of oil, metal, and anticipation.Leo leaned against a rusted steel table, arms crossed. “You’re seriously considering going in alone?”I glanced at the blueprints spread across the surface—Moreau’s known locations, his operations, his weak points.“I don’t have a choice.”Leo exhaled sharply. “You always have a choice.”He wasn’t wrong. But I also knew that some choices came at a cost.Aurora stepped into the room then, her presence shifting the air. She was dressed in black, her eyes dark with exhaustion.She walked right up to me, arms crossed. “I’m coming with you.”I met her gaze. “No, you’re not.”Her jaw tightened. “Damien—”“This isn’t up for discussion.”Her fingers curled into fists. “You’re walking straight into his hands.”“I know.”Silence stretched between us, the kind that spoke of battles neither of us wanted to fight.Leo cleared his throat. “Look, Moreau has the u
Damien’s POVThe city lights blurred as we sped down the highway, leaving Moreau’s estate behind. But no matter how fast we drove, I couldn’t outrun what I had just learned.Cassian Moreau.My brother.My hands clenched into fists as the weight of the revelation settled deep in my gut.“Damien.”Aurora’s voice was careful, hesitant.I didn’t respond.Not because I was ignoring her.Because I didn’t have the words.Leo slammed a fist against the steering wheel. “What the hell happened back there? One minute you’re breaking into his vault, the next he’s calling you ‘brother’ like some twisted soap opera.”I exhaled sharply, pressing my fingers to my temples. “Because it is twisted.”Leo stole a glance at me. “Tell me you’re not actually considering that it’s true.”I met his gaze through the rearview mirror. “I don’t have to consider it.” I tossed the birth certificate onto the dashboard. “It’s real.”Silence filled the car, thick with disbelief.Aurora slowly reached for the document,
Damien’s POVThe city burned.Thick smoke curled into the night sky, turning the stars into mere embers of light swallowed by the chaos below. Sirens screamed in the distance, but they were drowned out by the roar of destruction.I stood on the rooftop of the safe house, phone clenched in my fist, staring at the devastation below.Moreau had started the war.And I was already two steps behind.Aurora’s sharp intake of breath pulled me back. She stood beside me, her fingers pressing over her mouth as her eyes darted across the cityscape. “Damien… how many people…”I already knew what she wanted to ask.How many were dead?I didn’t have an answer.Leo’s voice cut through the silence. “The bombs were planted in key sectors—financial districts, high-ranking government buildings, even one near a hospital.” He turned to face me. “This wasn’t random.”Of course, it wasn’t.Moreau didn’t make random moves.Every explosion was a statement.I turned to Leo. “Damage report?”His jaw was tight. “
Damien’s POVI ran.My boots pounded against the pavement, the wind howling past me as Leo drove like a madman through the city’s ruined streets. The radio crackled with urgent voices, but I barely heard them.All I could hear was Aurora’s voice in my ear, sharp with fear.“They found us.”I had been two steps behind Moreau all night. I’d watched him burn my city, kill my men, taunt me with blood and fire. But this? This was different.This was Aurora.And if Moreau thought he could take her from me—He was about to learn what hell looked like.The tires screeched as we swerved onto a side street. Smoke thickened the air, making the night feel like a battlefield. The safehouse was seconds away.And then—BOOM.An explosion tore through the night, shaking the car violently. Flames shot into the sky, thick black smoke curling upwards.The safehouse.My vision went red.“Go faster,” I ordered.Leo didn’t need to be told twice.We skidded to a stop near the burning wreckage. Gunfire crack
Damien’s POVThe world outside was still burning, but inside the dimly lit safehouse, all I could focus on was the small, unassuming flash drive sitting in the center of the table.It looked ordinary.But I knew better.Aurora sat beside me, her expression pale but determined. Leo stood across from us, arms crossed, watching me like he expected the damn thing to explode the moment I plugged it in.Maybe he wasn’t wrong.I exhaled and inserted the drive into the laptop.A single folder appeared on the screen. “Project Revenant.”The name sent a chill through me.I clicked it open.Dozens of files. Some video, some documents, some encrypted. I opened the first video.A grainy image flickered to life. A cold, sterile room. Bright lights. A man sat in a chair, bound, his face bloodied.And standing in front of him—Elias Moreau.The room went dead silent.Moreau’s voice crackled through the speakers.“You can fight all you want, but you and I both know the truth. The experiment worked.”T
Damien’s POVThe night was thick with tension.The storm outside had yet to break, but I could feel it coming—a pressure in the air, a weight settling deep in my chest.I stood near the window, watching. Waiting.Leo was in the other room, working with his contact to decrypt the rest of Moreau’s files. Aurora was asleep—finally—but I knew it wouldn’t last.None of us were getting rest tonight.Because tonight, everything would change.I reached for my gun, the metal cold in my grip.One bullet. That was all I needed.One bullet between Moreau’s eyes.But I knew it wouldn’t be that easy.Moreau was a man who had spent his life playing god. If he had orchestrated all of this—manipulated me, hunted Aurora, built an army—then he wasn’t the type to go down without a fight.And I was more than ready to give him one.Leo’s POV“I don’t like this.”I leaned against the desk, arms crossed, watching Damien load his weapons. His movements were too calm.Too controlled.Aurora had begged me to wa
Damien’s POVThe second the lights died, I knew I’d made a mistake.The doors behind me slammed shut with a finality that sent a chill down my spine.Then came the footsteps.Slow. Measured. Surrounding me from every side.I raised my gun, shifting into position, my mind calculating the angles.One entrance. No exits. Limited visibility.This wasn’t a battle.This was a hunt.And I was the one being hunted.Then Moreau’s voice slithered through the darkness.“Did you really think it would be that easy, Damien?”A low chuckle followed, and the footsteps grew louder.“Did you think you could walk in here, put a bullet in my skull, and be done with it?”My grip tightened. Steady. Calculated. Wait for an opening.Then the first shot rang out.A bullet whizzed past my head, embedding itself in the wall.Moreau laughed softly. “I told you, didn’t I? You’re playing my game now.”The First StrikeMove.I dove to the side as another shot fired, rolling into cover behind a column.Shadows shift
Damien’s POVThe silence after a fight was always the loudest.Blood dripped from my hands, the weight of my gun still warm in my grip. Moreau’s body lay crumpled at my feet, two bullet holes in his chest, but I didn’t feel victorious.I felt empty.He was dead.And yet, the moment I looked down at him, all I could hear were his last words.“You were never meant to be free.”The sickness crawled beneath my skin. My pulse pounded like a war drum in my skull. The burns along my spine from whatever he had done to me still throbbed.I staggered back, barely registering Leo’s voice behind me.“Damien?” His tone was careful. Measured. Like I was something fragile.I turned away from Moreau’s corpse and pushed past him. “Let’s go.”Leo didn’t argue.Maybe because he saw it too—I hadn’t really won.Not yet.Aurora’s POVThe first thing I noticed when I saw Damien was the blood.Not his.Moreau’s.It coated his hands, smeared across his arms, staining his clothes.But it wasn’t the blood that
Silence pressed against their ears as they approached the lowest chamber. The air was heavier here—thick with ozone and dread, as if the facility itself exhaled the weight of its own malice. Damien’s flashlight beam danced across the walls, revealing veins of circuitry pulsing beneath steel plates. Each step echoed like a verdict.Aurora’s grip on her rifle tightened. “This corridor leads straight to the core. Seraph must be close.”Asher flanked Damien’s other side, unblinking in the dim light. Though forged in Monroe’s broken crucible, the boy’s courage was pure—a reminder that hope could grow from ashes.Null’s voice crackled in their earpieces. “I’m seeing systems coming back online. Ten minutes before full lockdown. We need to move.”Elias checked his watch. “Understood.”They rounded the final corner and stopped.A vaulted chamber yawned before them. In its center, illuminated by a ring of harsh white light, stood Seraph. Taller than a child but smaller than an adult, she was fr
The silence grew heavier the deeper they went.Null’s map guided them through a maze of subterranean halls—some cold and sterile, others torn by time and disuse. The smooth hum of generators still echoed in places, interspersed by flickering emergency lights that bathed the world in sickly red pulses.Damien led the way with Aurora and Asher close at his heels. The boy in the containment pod had given them everything—coordinates, access routes, and warnings. Seraph wasn’t like Daemon or Omega.He was worse.“Bio-signature locked,” Null murmured, eyes on the scanner as they reached another sealed door. “There’s something down there. No readable vitals, but movement… constant. Pacing, almost.”“He’s waiting,” Aurora said.Asher’s small voice cut in, soft but certain. “He doesn’t think. He reacts. He was made to become… everything they wanted me to be.”Damien knelt beside him. “You don’t have to face this.”Asher looked up. “I do. If we don’t stop him, he’ll come for us. For others.”Au
The elevator doors closed with a reluctant groan, sealing them in.Inside the narrow shaft, the only light came from their tactical gear—soft glows against skin and metal. Aurora stood beside Damien, her hand brushing against his, an anchor in the silence. Asher stood between them, staring straight ahead, lips pressed into a thin, focused line.The descent felt longer than it should have. As if the very walls were stretching around them—preparing to swallow them whole.Then the lift jolted to a stop.A hiss of depressurization followed. The doors slid open with a groan, revealing a corridor bathed in cold white light. Clean. Too clean. The sterile scent of disinfectant and ozone clung to the air like a ghost.“This is it,” Null said quietly. “The Core Lab.”They stepped out as one.Unlike the upper floors, this level was pristine. Not abandoned. Not even neglected. Lights functioned. Doors responded to biometric scans. Cameras followed their every move, some still tracking with soft c
The sun dipped low, setting fire to the horizon in hues of crimson and ash. From the ridge above the temporary camp, Damien stood alone, watching shadows stretch over the forest like fingers reaching for something they could never quite hold.Below him, the others prepared in near silence. The kind of silence that didn’t come from fear—but from knowing. From understanding just how close they were to the end.The wind curled around him, carrying the scent of pine and steel and something colder. A storm was coming. Not of weather—but of reckoning.“You always find the highest place when you need to think.”He didn’t turn. He didn’t need to.Aurora’s voice always settled beneath his skin like a familiar hum—gentle and steady.She stepped up beside him, hands tucked into the sleeves of her jacket, her gaze following his to the horizon.“You used to be quieter,” he said. “Before all this.”“I used to have more to be afraid of,” she replied, half-smiling. “Now I just have more to lose.”He
The boy didn’t speak of the dream again.But something in him shifted after that night. His steps were a little steadier. His gaze no longer darted to the exits first. He stayed near Damien, yes, but not like a shadow clinging to light. Now, it felt like a tether, an anchor—not dependence, but choice.Damien noticed it when they trained in the clearing behind the safehouse. The boy followed directions without flinching, without looking over his shoulder every five seconds like he expected Monroe to appear from behind the trees. And when Kai handed him a blade—not sharp, just a practice knife—he held it with the curiosity of someone discovering a piece of themselves.“What do we call him?” Eli
The morning sunlight felt wrong.Too bright. Too open.After days in the Hollow’s synthetic twilight, Damien squinted at the skyline like it was some forgotten relic. The world outside was still broken, scarred by everything Monroe had built, but out here—beneath real sky—it felt like breathing for the first time in weeks.They moved through the forest trail in silence, Aurora walking beside Damien, the child—now clothed in a borrowed jacket and boots too large—staying close to Damien’s side like a shadow tethered to light.No name.No past.
The air inside the chamber thickened as the hum of the cryopod deepened, soft lights tracing across its surface like veins awakening after a long slumber. Damien stood with his hand hovering just above the control panel, eyes locked on the boy within. A-00.The child who shouldn’t exist.The child who had been discarded—forgotten—yet had outlived the project meant to replace him.Aurora touched Damien’s arm gently. “Are you ready?”He didn’t answer right away. His gaze was still fixed on the boy’s face. So young, so still. Yet somehow, it felt like staring into a mirror that refused to reflect.
The helicopter blades sliced through the Ural sky like a warning.Beneath them, the forest spread like a sea of frozen pine and fractured stone, untouched and unwelcoming. The coordinates Null had provided pointed to a narrow canyon—its jagged sides veined with ice and shadow—where no human path should've ever led.Damien sat beside Aurora, eyes locked on the narrowing terrain below. The cold had begun to seep in through the insulated layers, but it wasn’t the temperature that clenched his gut.It was the silence.Even at this altitude, the absence of wildlife was unnerving.As if nature itself refused to brea
The wind had changed by morning.Geneva’s neutral calm felt different now—like something sacred had been disturbed beneath its manicured stillness. The team gathered in the briefing room of the underground complex, still shaken from what they’d uncovered the night before: Damien’s prototype—Subject A-01-D—and the fractured remnants of Monroe’s last vault of secrets.No one spoke for a long while.Elias was the first to break the silence. “So what now? We’ve seen the start of it. That clone—your prototype—it changes everything. Doesn’t it?”Null nodded slowly, pacing. “It suggests Monroe’s e