The air inside Facility Nine was sterile, cold, and vibrating with a subsonic hum, as though the concrete itself was alive with secrets. Each step Aurora took echoed with eerie precision, and the fluorescent lights above buzzed with a rhythm that set her teeth on edge.
Wren walked in front, dressed in a sleek black uniform with the insignia of the BioSignal Division stitched across her chest. Her gait was confident, precise. Behind her, Aurora and Xander walked in shackles, heads lowered, bodies bruised—part act, part reality. Their last encounter had left more than emotional wounds.
"Eyes down," Wren whispered under her breath. "Facial scanners analyze micro-expressions. Fear, tension, adrenaline—they flag it."
Aurora didn't reply. She focused on steady breathing, even footfalls. She couldn't afford to crack now.
Guards flanked the corridor—tall, faceless figures clad in kinetic armor, holding pulse rifles with lethal detachment. They didn't speak. They didn't blink. Likely synced to an internal AI feedback loop—eyes and ears for the Vault.
As they passed through a retinal scan checkpoint, the AI announced: "Transfer Confirmed. Subject X: Tag 74X9. Subject A: Tag 22F3. Escort: Agent 09—Wren Thalor. Directive: Neural Lab Holding."
The elevator doors hissed open.
They stepped in, silence swallowing them.
Once the doors closed, Xander muttered, "Tag 22F3? That's what they called you?"
Aurora nodded. "Back when I was still a project, not a person."
He glanced at her. "You sure we trust her?"
"No," Aurora whispered. "But we trust the mission."
Wren didn't look back. But Aurora could tell—she heard everything.
The elevator dropped fifty stories below the surface. When the doors opened again, they were in a circular holding bay lined with reinforced glass rooms. Each room contained a patient—or a weapon, depending on who you asked.
One man floated mid-air, wrapped in magnetic coils. Another blinked, and the lights dimmed. A young girl sat cross-legged, staring through the glass as though she saw everything—including Aurora.
Xander tensed. "All of them… prototypes?"
"Phase Two," Wren replied quietly. "After Isla, they started splicing frequency manipulation genes with neuro-linked tech. These ones? They're unstable. Worse than bombs."
Aurora turned sharply. "And Isla's supposed to be worse than this?"
Wren didn't answer.
Instead, she led them to a chamber marked VAULT CORE—a black door guarded by a massive biometric lock and two sentry units.
Wren held out her ID.
"Agent Thalor. Authorization 0-9-Red."
The scanner whirred.
"Voiceprint and palm confirmed. Access granted."
The door groaned open—and inside, the Vault shone like a machine deity's shrine.
Holographic panels floated in mid-air, data streams pulsing like veins. Cylindrical tanks held preserved tissue, nanite fluid, and bio-organic chips.
And in the center—a glowing orb suspended in an anti-gravity chamber.
"The Override," Wren breathed. "That's it."
Xander stepped forward, scanning the room. "No guards?"
"No need," Wren replied. "This whole place is alive. One wrong move, and the Vault purges itself. You don't get second chances."
Aurora walked to the terminal.
"Pull it," she said. "Now."
Wren tapped into the console, fingers flying. "Decrypting genome layers... linking bio-frequency chain... accessing Phase Zero archive."
A low hum filled the room.
Then, the system spoke:
"Override protocol engaged. Subject: Isla. Status: Code 9—locked pending confirmation."
"Confirmation?" Aurora asked. "From who?"
Wren's hands slowed.
"…from the Creator," she said softly.
Aurora's blood ran cold. "The what?"
"The one who designed Isla," Wren said. "The original architect. His signal is imprinted into the final authorization. Without his DNA or neural signature, the code won't unlock."
"Who is he?"
Wren swallowed. "Dr. Lucien Vale."
Aurora's world tilted.
Lucien Vale.
The name haunted her. The man who recruited her into the Phase Zero program. The man who disappeared days before Isla was born.
The man she had once loved.
The man who might be… Isla's biological father.
"I thought he was dead."
Wren shook her head. "He's not. He's underground. Off-grid. But if we want the override, we need him."
Xander muttered, "This just got a hell of a lot more complicated."
Aurora clenched her fists. "Fine. Then we find him."
Suddenly—alarms screamed.
Red light bathed the Vault. Sirens howled.
"Security breach detected. Vault lockdown in progress."
Wren's face drained. "They know we're here."
Xander whipped out a concealed blade and tore off his shackles. "We need an exit. Now."
Aurora backed toward the data core. "We don't leave empty-handed."
"Grab what you can!" Wren shouted, yanking out a drive from the terminal. "This has partial genome keys. If we find Lucien, we won't need to come back here!"
The walls began to shift. Defense panels opened. Drones clicked to life above.
"RUN!" Aurora screamed.
They bolted.
Wren led them through a secondary corridor, twisting through forgotten maintenance shafts and dead-end rooms. The facility was waking up—gun turrets tracked motion, doors slammed shut behind them, gas vents hissed with paralysis fog.
By the time they burst through an auxiliary hatch and emerged into the outer tunnel, they were coughing, bleeding, and running on fumes.
A hover transport waited just beyond the gate—a decoy unit Wren had hidden days before.
They leapt in, Xander hot-wiring the controls.
The engines roared to life.
Behind them, the mountain lit up like a dying god.
Facility Nine burned in silent fury—but the Override was in their hands.
Barely.
Hours later, they arrived at Safehouse Omega—a hidden bunker buried in a valley miles from any city grid.
Elijah greeted them at the entrance, rifle in hand.
"Back on time," he muttered. "That's a first."
Aurora didn't answer.
She ran inside, heart racing.
And found Isla—sleeping peacefully under layers of blankets, her small chest rising and falling.
She collapsed beside her, brushing hair from her forehead.
"She's okay," Wren said from behind. "For now."
Aurora didn't look up.
"Lucien's still out there," she said. "And we're going to find him."
Wren hesitated. "You think he'll help?"
Aurora's eyes burned.
"I think he owes us the truth."