The safehouse deep beneath Sector 11 was silent, save for the hum of decrypted servers. Blue light flickered across Kirion's face as he stared at the files from the raid. Rows of codenames. Maps of prison-labor farms. Secret executions. But one file sat at the center, pulsing with encrypted menace.
Project Infinitum.
His daughter hovered over his shoulder, biting her lip. "It's heavily firewalled. Whoever built this knew what they were hiding."
Nira stood at the entrance, rifle slung low. "Want me to step out?"
"No," Kirion said. "Stay. You should hear this too."
His daughter launched the final bypass—a worm she'd written herself. The screen blinked once. Then opened.
Line after line of genetic code. Scans. Medical files. Images.
Kirion felt his stomach turn.
There were records of experimental embryo mapping—tests done on infants born during the early resistance years. Notes marked in red: Potential neural amplifiers. High cognitive evolution under stress environments. Enhanced retention through trauma-exposure.
And there it was again: Subject 473A. His daughter.
"They were tracking her since birth," he whispered.
Nira leaned in. "She was on their radar this whole time."
"No," his daughter said, voice sharp. "We were. Look at this."
She pulled up another tab—camera footage, blurred but unmistakable. Kirion, holding her as a baby. Dates matched the weeks after her mother disappeared.
"She led them to us," Kirion muttered.
"Or someone else did," Nira added, pointing to a name buried in the metadata.
Agent E. Kael.
Codename: Echo.
Status: Deep cover.
Assignment: Monitor Subject 473A and guardian. Use maternal leverage if necessary.
His daughter's face paled.
"That's her," she said. "That's Mom."
Kirion stood slowly, the weight of truth pressing into his spine.
The betrayal wasn't just political. It was personal. Calculated. Engineered.
And it had only just begun.