The stairwell creaked beneath their hurried steps.
Every level they climbed peeled back layers of darkness, but it didn't bring peace.
The boy on the stretcher twitched, murmuring unintelligible words.
Fred glanced down, heart heavy.
Mira wiped blood from her lip and pushed onward.
Above them, a metal door loomed.
Heavy.
Sealed.
Marked with the crimson symbol of the Sirens—Selene's inner circle.
Reeve planted explosives without a word.
They were all too tired for caution now.
When the blast tore the door open, they stumbled into a space that should not have existed—
a sanctuary
—cold, clinical, humming with power.
And at the center of it all…
stood her masterpiece.
---
It wasn't a bomb.
It wasn't a machine.
It was a person.
Encased in a cylinder of glass and wires.
Suspended in a swirling bath of silver fluid.
A boy—no more than fifteen.
Eyes closed.
Face peaceful.
But his body told a different story.
Metal fused to muscle.
Tubes buried in veins.
Symbols branded onto skin that shimmered faintly with unnatural energy.
Fred staggered forward, fists clenched.
This wasn't creation.
It was butchery.
Selene hadn't just built a weapon.
She had rewritten a human soul.
---
An old-fashioned projector flickered to life in the corner of the room.
Selene's face appeared.
Calm.
Mocking.
"You always thought you could save them, Fredrick. But you were too late before, and you're too late now."
She smiled coldly.
"Every tear you shed, every child you swore to protect, it all led to this."
The camera panned to the boy in the cylinder.
"Meet Subject 0.
My first perfect Siren.
And when he wakes…
he will erase you."
The recording cut off, leaving only the low hum of machines.
Fred stared, rage simmering under his skin.
But deeper than the rage was something worse:
Guilt.
Because he recognized the boy's face.
Years ago, Fred had tried to save him.
Failed.
Left him behind.
And now... he would have to decide:
Fight him.
Or save him.
--
Reeve pulled Mira aside, voice low.
"We should destroy it now. Before it wakes."
Mira shook her head fiercely.
"No. If there's even a chance... we save him."
"But what if he's too far gone?" Reeve growled.
Fred said nothing.
He only watched the boy.
Watched the faint flicker of pain that crossed his face even in sleep.
He made his decision.
"We're not like her," Fred said, voice hoarse.
"We don't kill what's broken.
We fight to fix it."
Mira nodded, her relief barely hidden.
Reeve cursed but relented.
For now.
---
But time was not on their side.
The sirens overhead began to wail.
Footsteps thundered in the hallways beyond.
Selene's soldiers were coming.
And with them—
another voice.
Over the loudspeakers, dripping with cruelty:
"Set the boy free."
"Let him wake."
"Let him feast."
Fred's blood ran cold.
This wasn't just a trap.
It was an execution.
If they didn't move fast, they wouldn't just lose the boy.
They would lose themselves.
---