Ethan stared at the terminal, the glow of the screen casting harsh shadows across his face. Lines of code and technical readouts scrolled past in silence, each word compounding the horror in his chest. He wasn't a mistake. He was the blueprint.
"Replication capacity: 96% genetic stability…"
"Cognitive control override: pending integration…"
"Subject A-17 base genome: viable for mass production…"
His breath caught.
They weren't trying to fix the enhanced soldiers—they were trying to erase them. Clean up the instability, the mental fractures, the biological degradation. They wanted something better.
They wanted him.
He yanked the drive free and palmed it, sliding it into the seam of his mattress just as the camera in the upper corner blinked back to life. A low hum filled the room—night cycle over.
But Ethan couldn't rest now. He sat on the edge of the bed, his mind racing. Every step he took from here would be watched. He needed allies. He needed Kai.
And he needed Lang.
She had hesitated. That mattered.
The next morning, the routine began again: escort, limiter check, transfer to Project Echo. Dr. Lang barely looked up as he entered, but her voice was lower today, almost cautious.
"Vitals unchanged," she murmured as he strapped himself in. "You're stable, which is more than I can say for most."
"You knew about Helix," he said under his breath.
Her fingers paused on the console.
"I've seen pieces," she replied, voice just above a whisper. "Enough to know they've shifted priorities. Echo's just the scaffolding. Helix is the new foundation."
"And you're still working for them?"
Lang glanced at the camera in the corner. "I'm working within them."
Ethan studied her. "Help me. I've got access to files—real ones. Plans, security layouts, Helix protocols. But I need you to unlock the deep systems."
Lang hesitated. "If I get caught—"
"They're going to kill the others. The enhanced. Wipe them out when they're done with testing. Kai's one of them. You helped build this place. Now help destroy it."
Silence.
Then: "Bring me what you have. Tonight. During shift turnover, the cameras loop for 87 seconds. That's all I can give you."
It was enough.
Later that day, Ethan passed Kai again in the mess hall. This time, Kai looked worse—new bruises, a limp. Whatever "safety" Mr. X had promised was conditional, and punishment came swiftly. Their eyes met. A flicker of understanding passed between them.
Wait.
Be ready.
The night came like a loaded gun.
Ethan timed the cameras precisely. When they blinked off, he pried the flash drive from his mattress and slipped into the hallway. The guard rotations were staggered—an intentional flaw, he now realized, designed to make subjects think escape was possible, just to see what they'd do.
Tonight, he'd give them a real answer.
He slid into Lab B unnoticed. Lang was already there, waiting by the terminal. Her lab coat was gone, replaced by a simple black jacket. Civilian.
"Give it to me," she said.
He passed the drive. She slotted it in. Lines of data streamed down her monitor. Her eyes widened.
"This is… this is everything. The cloning data, the override protocols, even the secondary control sequences for the limiters—these could disable every single subject restraint."
"Can you upload a kill-switch?"
Lang hesitated. "A virus?"
"No. A command key. Something they can activate on their own. If we can't stop this from inside, at least give them the means to fight back."
She nodded. "It'll take time."
"We don't have time."
As if summoned by fate, the hallway outside lit up red.
Intruder alert.
Lang looked at Ethan. "They know."
He was already at the door. "Stay behind me."
But when the door opened, it wasn't guards.
It was Kai.
Panting. Bleeding. Holding a stolen sidearm in one shaking hand.
"We have to move," he said. "Now."
"Where are the others?" Ethan asked.
"Dead. Or worse. They started purging early—anyone who failed the Helix thresholds. They're calling it a 'clean slate.'"
Lang swore. "They moved up the timeline."
"Where's Mr. X?" Ethan asked.
Kai's expression darkened. "Control tower. He's locking down every level. But he doesn't know we have her."
He motioned to Lang.
"Can she crash the system?"
Ethan turned to her. Lang's jaw was tight, eyes glassy.
"I wrote half the core protocols," she said. "I can erase them."
"Then we go up," Ethan said. "We end this. Tonight."
The path to the tower was chaos. Alarms blared. Drones zipped overhead. Automated turrets scanned every corridor.
But Lang knew the old maintenance routes—abandoned shafts, sub-level junctions never fully integrated into the new Helix design.
As they moved, Ethan saw the aftermath of the purge: bodies of enhanced soldiers, slumped in hallways. Some still twitching from neural override pulses.
"What did they do?" Kai whispered.
"They called it 'peace,'" Ethan said bitterly.
They reached the elevator shaft. Lang overrode the panel, and the doors opened with a groan. No lift.
"We climb," she said.
Hand over hand, they scaled the narrow ladder up twelve floors. Every muscle in Ethan's body screamed, but he kept moving.
Kai slipped once. Ethan caught him.
"You good?" he asked.
Kai nodded, pale. "Yeah. Just… I didn't think we'd actually get this far."
"We're not there yet."
They reached the top. The doors to the control tower loomed before them, locked tight.
Lang plugged in her bypass tool.
Seconds ticked by.
"Almost—"
The doors exploded inward.
A shockwave hurled them back. Smoke filled the corridor.
Mr. X stepped through the haze, flanked by two enhanced operatives. These weren't fractured like the others. They were stable. Clean. Prototype Helix units.
"Impressive," Mr. X said. "Really. You got further than I thought. But the game's over."
He motioned to Lang. "Give me the drive."
Ethan stepped forward. "She's not giving you anything."
Mr. X tilted his head. "Still clinging to defiance? You don't understand. I'm not trying to kill you. I'm trying to ascend you. You're the seed, Ethan. The start of a new species."
"I'm not your species."
He launched forward.
The fight was brutal. Ethan was fast—but the Helix soldiers were faster. Smoother. They predicted his moves like chess pieces, countering with inhuman precision.
Kai dove into the fray, blasting one in the leg before he was tossed into a wall.
Lang skidded toward a console, trying to access the mainframe.
Ethan ducked a punch, flipped a soldier over his back—and felt a searing pain in his side as the second one stabbed a neural spike into his ribs.
He screamed.
Mr. X approached, serene.
"This could have been easier."
Lang's fingers flew across the keys. "Override. Code 8-9-Foxtrot. Confirm."
Mr. X frowned.
"What are you doing?"
"Ending your project."
She hit enter.
All across the facility, the limiter bands lit up—and then shattered. All at once, the surveillance feeds blinked to static. Security systems shut down. Restraints unlocked.
From the labs and cells below, screams rose.
But they weren't screams of pain.
They were screams of freedom.
The tide was turning.
Mr. X lunged for Lang. Ethan intercepted him, tackling him hard into the control desk.
"This is for everything," he snarled.
And slammed his fist into Mr. X's face—again and again—until he stopped moving.
Silence.
Lang collapsed to the floor. Kai crawled over, coughing blood.
"It worked?" he rasped.
Ethan nodded, dizzy. "It worked."
Outside the control tower, the facility burned. Rebels—former prisoners, former test subjects—stormed the halls. No more experiments. No more chains.
The forge had cracked open.
And from its ashes, something new would rise.