Aurora’s POVThe warehouse was silent, save for the steady hum of the overhead lights.Leo sat on the edge of a crate, arms crossed, his jaw clenched tight. Damien stood near the far wall, his body tense as he studied the blueprint of a building neither of us recognized.I watched them both, feeling the weight of what we were about to do settle deep in my chest.We weren’t just running anymore.We were hunting.“You’re sure about this?” I asked, breaking the silence.Damien didn’t look up. “Yes.”Leo let out a sharp breath. “You do realize that walking into an Order stronghold is basically suicide, right?”Damien’s eyes flicked to him. “Not if we’re smart about it.”Leo scoffed. “Since when has any of this been about being smart?”I stepped forward before the tension could snap between them.“We don’t have a choice,” I said firmly. “If we wait, they’ll come for us first.”Leo exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair. “Fine. But if this goes to hell, I want it on record that th
Aurora’s POVThe silence outside the stronghold was deceptive.We had won this battle—but the war was far from over.Damien stood beside me, his breathing heavy, his gaze locked on the burning remnants of the facility. His hands were still stained with blood, his body tense, his mind elsewhere.Leo paced behind us, his gun still in hand. “That was too easy.”I turned to him. “Easy?”Leo met my gaze. “Cyrus went down without much of a fight. That doesn’t sit right with me.”A cold chill ran down my spine.He was right.Cyrus had been a high-ranking member of The Order. He had trained Damien, controlled him for years. A man like that didn’t just… die without a contingency plan.Damien exhaled, finally shifting his gaze away from the flames. “Then we prepare for whatever comes next.”I nodded, but deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was far from over.And I was right.Because that night, The Order struck back.Leo’s POVWe were on the road when the first explosion hit.The
Aurora’s POVThe weight of Damien’s words settled over us like a storm cloud.We end this.His voice had been steady, but I could see the turmoil behind his eyes. He wasn’t just talking about eliminating The Order. He was talking about burning everything down, about erasing the past—his past—until there was nothing left of it.The problem was, when you burned something down, you risked being consumed by the fire.And I wasn’t sure Damien would survive it.Leo ran a hand through his hair, pacing. “I’m all for a full-scale assault, but we don’t even know what the hell we’re dealing with.”Damien remained silent.He was staring at the transmitter we had taken from Gregor’s body, the tiny red light now dead. It had been sending a signal. The only question was—to who?I swallowed hard. “We need to figure out where that signal was going.”Leo exhaled. “And how do you suggest we do that? Walk up to The Order and ask nicely?”I ignored his sarcasm and turned to Damien. “There has to be a way.
Damien’s POVThe man standing before me exuded control.He wasn’t just another pawn of The Order. He wasn’t a soldier, or a disposable asset.He was someone bigger. Someone worse.His cold, calculating gaze studied me as if I were an unfinished project. His tailored suit was immaculate, not a speck of blood or dust tainting the fabric—like he was untouchable, like the chaos unfolding around us didn’t concern him in the slightest.And then, he smiled.A slow, knowing curve of his lips, like he had been waiting for this moment.For me.“Well, Damien,” he said smoothly, his voice as sharp as a blade. “It took you long enough.”I kept my gun steady. “Who the hell are you?”His smile didn’t falter. “I suppose you wouldn’t remember me. Not fully.”My fingers curled tighter around my weapon. “Try me.”He took a step closer. Leo tensed beside me, his own gun raised, while Aurora shifted slightly, putting herself into a better position to strike.The man noticed—of course, he did.And yet, he
Damien’s POVMonroe had escaped, but I knew one thing for certain—he wouldn’t stay hidden for long.Because he wanted me to find him.I could feel it in the way he spoke, the way he looked at me. He had left breadcrumbs, like a twisted game of chess where he was always a step ahead. But this time?I wasn’t playing his game.I was going to burn the board.The Safe HouseThe air was thick with tension as Leo paced, muttering under his breath. Aurora sat at the table, her fingers tapping against the wood.I stood by the window, staring into the darkness outside, my mind racing through every possibility.Monroe wasn’t just some rogue scientist. He was the architect behind The Order’s worst secrets.And I was his greatest experiment.Leo stopped pacing. “We need a lead.”Aurora sighed. “He won’t make it easy.”I exhaled slowly. “He already gave us one.”They both looked at me.I turned to Leo. “Did you see his watch?”Leo frowned. “What?”“The watch,” I repeated. “Omega. Custom-made. The i
Damien’s POVThe wind screamed across the cliffs like a warning howl. From where I stood, the estate grounds below looked like a fortress — bristling with armed men, reinforced gates, surveillance drones scanning every inch of the land. But it wasn’t enough. Not this time.This wasn’t just about Adrian anymore. He had been a symptom. The true disease — Monroe — had been growing unchecked for years, cloaked in shadows, orchestrating everything from genetic experiments to political manipulation.And I had been his prized creation.I clenched my fists. The truth was a poison I hadn’t finished swallowing. Monroe had tampered with my DNA, bred me to be a weapon. Every scar, every ability I’d thought I’d earned was a calculated result.The flash drive Aurora had found in Elias’s safe had confirmed everything — Project ECHO was real. And I was its last remaining product.Behind me, the sound of footsteps echoed. I didn’t turn. I knew it was her.Aurora’s presence was the only thing keeping m
Damien’s POVThe lab burned behind us.Flames licked at shattered glass and twisted metal, casting hellish shadows that danced over the blood-soaked floors. The air reeked of scorched chemicals and singed flesh—a grotesque perfume of war. We stood just beyond the perimeter, Aurora’s hand still gripping mine like a tether keeping me from spiraling into the madness Monroe had unleashed.I couldn’t shake the image of the clone—my clone—eyes open, dead on the table, his face an eerie mirror of mine. The only difference had been the blankness behind his gaze. No soul. No memories. Just flesh and programmed obedience.“This is just the beginning,” I muttered, voice hoarse.Aurora turned toward me, her face pale but resolute. “Monroe’s not just experimenting. He’s building an army.”I nodded slowly. “An army that looks like me. Fights like me. Maybe even thinks like me.”She shivered. “But they’re not you. He can’t replicate your mind. Your heart.”I wasn’t so sure anymore.The drive we reco
Aurora’s POVSilence settled over the war room like a thick fog.The screen still flickered with the final frame of Monroe’s message, his face frozen in a half-smile that made my skin crawl. Damien hadn’t moved for what felt like minutes. He stood there, hands clenched into fists, shoulders rigid, as if every word had been branded into his skin.Daemon.The name echoed in my mind like a curse. A clone—not just a replica of Damien, but something more, something… engineered to be unstoppable. A being grown in shadows, meant to take Damien’s place in the world. In leadership. In memory."What do we do now?" I finally asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.Damien didn’t turn. "We find him," he said. "We stop him before Monroe unleashes him.""How do we even begin to look for something that’s been hidden from everyone?" Zoe asked, pacing. Her face was drawn, eyes red. "He could be anywhere. Monroe planned this for years. This isn’t just a rogue science experiment. This is a goddamn in
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
The flight into Geneva was cloaked in silence and tension. Null sat across from Damien and Aurora, his fingers flying across his datapad as he decoded the fragmented files Seraph had left behind. The others barely spoke—each of them gripped by what lay ahead.Damien watched the mountains vanish beneath the clouds through the aircraft window. He could feel Aurora’s quiet presence beside him. Their fingers weren’t intertwined this time, but their shoulders touched, and that alone grounded him more than anything else could.Geneva greeted them with muted skies and chill winds. The neutral zone was a far cry from the war-torn hideouts they’d grown used to—orderly, pristine, quiet. But underneath that perfection lurked something far older than secrecy: erasure.They descended into the depths of a government facility disguised as an old weather station. It took Null several bypasses, retina scans, and an override code embedded in one of Seraph’s final neural threads to breach the security l