The room was so quiet Rea could hear the faint hum of the underground lair's ventilation system. Everyone's eyes were locked on the screen as Rina's fingers flew across the keyboard, working to break through the final layer of encryption.
Rea's name sat there, glowing ominously on the screen.
Aster, sitting beside her, gave her a side glance. "You ready for this?"
Rea forced a smirk, masking the uneasy feeling crawling up her spine. "Yeah. It's probably just a bad school report or something."
Christy grinned. "Maybe it's your secret wedding invitation. Should we start printing the 'Rea Westwood' name tags?"
Rea groaned. "I will actually throw you out of this lair."
Jaxon, standing near the doorway, rolled his eyes. "Can we focus?"
Rina didn't react to the banter. Her gaze was sharp, serious. "Almost there…"
A final keystroke. A beep.
The file unlocked.
Rina clicked it open. And the moment the screen filled with text and images, she froze.
Celeste inhaled sharply beside her, gripping the table.
Eric, standing over her shoulder, muttered, "No way…"
Rea's stomach dropped. "What? What is it?"
Rina didn't speak for a moment. Then she slowly turned the screen toward her.
The moment Rea saw it, her breath caught.
Her face was on the screen.
Next to it, another name flashed in bold letters.
"Project Revenant – Subject 001"
Rea's pulse pounded in her ears. "What the hell is this?"
Rina scrolled through the document, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's a classified project. Started years ago." She paused, then looked at Celeste. "Before she was even born."
Celeste's jaw clenched. "I know."
Rea whipped toward her. "You know?"
Celeste finally met her daughter's gaze. "Not everything. But I knew there was a project called 'Revenant.'"
Jaxon stepped forward. "What kind of project?"
Rina's fingers hovered over the screen before she clicked another tab. More text. More disturbing details.
Her voice was grave. "Revenant was Collaway's attempt at creating the perfect survivor."
Rea blinked. "Excuse me?"
Rina exhaled. "Not an army. Not a weapon. A survivor. Someone who could withstand anything—disease, injury, psychological torture. Someone who could be pushed to their limit and never break."
Aster frowned. "That sounds like—"
"An experiment," Celeste finished, her voice sharp. "Because that's exactly what it was."
Rea felt like the floor had just been ripped out from under her. "But… but I wasn't part of any experiment. I grew up like a normal kid."
Christy arched a brow. "Yeah, if you call 'normal' being trained to fight like a professional before you could drive."
Rea shot her a glare, but her heart was racing.
Rina scrolled further, eyes scanning faster. "It says here… Subject 001 was an unborn child at the time of the experiment. The enhancements were genetic—altered before birth. They weren't trained. They were made."
Rea's mouth went dry.
Aster sat up. "Wait. Are you saying…?"
Celeste's voice was quiet, but firm. "Rea was the first—and only—successful Revenant."
Silence.
Rea's ears rang. The words felt distant, like they didn't belong to her. She was part of a project? A lab experiment?
No. No, this had to be wrong.
She forced a shaky laugh. "Okay, that's insane. I'm not some superhuman science project. I get sick. I get hurt. I—"
Her voice died as Rina clicked one last tab.
A video file popped up.
The thumbnail showed a darkened lab.
And a baby in a containment pod.
Rea couldn't breathe.
"No," she whispered.
Rina hesitated, then pressed play.
The screen flickered to life.
A grainy video began, showing a sterile, metallic room filled with dim blue light. Scientists in white coats bustled around a single containment pod in the center. Inside… was a baby.
Rea's baby self.
She felt Aster stiffen beside her. Jaxon was unreadable, his expression locked in stone. Christy, for once, was silent.
Then, a familiar voice echoed through the speakers.
Collaway.
"Project Revenant—Subject 001. Viability test completed. The modifications are stable. The child's system has successfully adapted to the enhancements. We may have finally created the first true survivor."
Rea's hands clenched into fists. Her vision blurred.
This wasn't real.
This wasn't her.
But it was.
The video continued, now showing data charts, images, reports—details of tests she had never known she underwent. Details of her DNA, her body's limits, her brain's adaptability.
Every inch of her existence had been monitored, controlled, altered before she had even been born.
She felt sick.
The video ended abruptly.
For a moment, no one moved.
Then Celeste stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on Rea's shoulder. "Rea—"
Rea flinched away. "Don't."
Celeste's expression faltered.
Rea shot up from her seat, her breaths shallow, her heart slamming against her ribs. "I need air."
She didn't wait for a response. She turned and stormed out.
Leaving behind a room full of unanswered questions.