One Month Later
The world had turned over since the day Project Perseus went public. Headlines now spoke of investigations, trials, and new legislation. Yet for our small circle of survivors, life had settled into uneasy new routines.
---
Matt Lancer – Cell Block C, Fleury-Mérogis Prison
Matt stood at the bars of his cell, wrists wrapped in coarse cloth. The graffiti-scarred walls reeked of disinfectant, fear, and regret. He had known this day would come the moment he'd confessed to the copycat killings — revenge murders of officials who'd abducted his sister, who he thought was killed by them.
A guard unlocked the cell door.
Guard: "Lancer — your transport's here. Let's go."
Matt nodded, sliding out. He didn't protest. He faced prison as penance.
Inside the cell, a scrawled message on the concrete read, "Heroes Burn Too." Matt smiled bitterly. He might be chained, but in his mind, he was finally free of the rage that had haunted him.
---
Renneté Estate, Suburban Paris
Under Mrs. Renneté's roof, Isla had grown stronger each day. The former subject of cold tables and steel restraints now drank hot cocoa by the fireplace, her once-dull eyes glinting with life and determination.
Annie Renneté watched her from the doorway, arms folded:
Renneté: "You've gone from victim to survivor, little light."
Isla smiled.
Isla: "All thanks to you."
Renneté brushed a stray hair from Isla's face.
Renneté: "You're family now."
---
National Press Conference, Paris
In the gilded halls of the Interior Ministry, Christopher stood at a podium, medals glinting on his jacket. Flashbulbs erupted as he accepted the Nation's Medal for Bravery.
> Minister (announcing):
"For leadership in exposing the greatest human rights atrocity in modern history, we award Detective Christopher Canessane, with Légion d'Honneur (Legion of Honour)."
Christopher nodded, gaze drifting to an empty chair in the back — Brendon's. He thanked the press and slipped away, knowing the real heroes were elsewhere.
---
Late Afternoon – Renneté Estate Gardens
Brendon sat on a wrought-iron bench under an ancient oak, a steaming cup of coffee in hand. The late sun warmed the manicured hedges and rose beds surrounding him. Christopher joined him, settling beside with two coffees.
Christopher: "You actually let them lock Matt up?"
Brendon took a slow sip.
Brendon: "He knew the risk. He did what he had to. Justice has its price."
Christopher frowned.
Christopher: "And you? You're just… leaving?"
Brendon's eyes were distant.
Brendon: "Ridgecliff needs its sheriff back. I disappeared once — it can't be like that forever."
Mrs. Renneté emerged from the house, carrying a silver tray with pastries. She set it down with a soft sigh.
Renneté: "Departure's arranged. Speedboat at dawn. Passport, papers… everything's ready."
Brendon stood and bowed his head slightly.
Brendon: "Thank you, ma'am."
She placed a hand on his shoulder.
Renneté: "Don't thank me yet. You're still on my payroll. And Isla's coming soon."
---
Isla's Arrival
In the garden's shade, Isla emerged from the house, wearing a light jacket over her thermal blanket. Her smile brightened at Brendon.
Isla: "Mr. Wolf! You look… relaxed."
Brendon chuckled.
Brendon: "Never felt better."
She sat beside him, legs dangling. Christopher poured her a cup of tea.
Isla: "I can't thank you enough. You saved me."
Brendon squeezed her hand.
Brendon: "And if it wasn't you we wouldn't be able to solve this scandel."
Christopher cleared his throat, swirling his coffee.
Christopher (coughing a little): "Brendon… I would like to ask one thing, how on earth you pieced it all together. A Sherlock Holmes moment, apparently, right?" (He finishes it with small grin)
Brendon smiled, folding his arms.
Brendon: "Why I forgot that you are a detective story fanboy. Well, I don't do this but for this instance (he sighs) — allow me to demonstrate."
---
The Explanations
1. The Copycat Theory
> "Look at the killings: same wounds, same angle, same 'bleeding eye' signature. The original was meticulous — cutting post-mortem incisions to bleed only one eye. Then the next wave of murders appeared in high-profile government circles: a direct echo. But the real killer struck near hybrid protest rallies — revenge for government actions. The killings were too personal. And who would make it personal? Someone with trauma, someone whose sister had been taken. That's when I called Matt in. His motivation lined up with the pattern."
2. Detective Zuekh's Three-Year Void
> "Zuekh showed up on the case late. His record had a curious gap — no assignments for three years, no personnel files, nobody knew where he'd been in his early days. Yet he had intimate knowledge of lab procedures and blacksite security. That's impossible if he'd just transferred from Marseille PD. It meant he'd been inside Project Perseus — either as a contractor or a silent participant. His arroganceand superiority complex towards Hybrids and Anthros is what actually caught my attention. I watched his reactions when I mentioned to share information each other, he just ingnored it. Plus his over-excitement when he caught Matt telling that he is the bleeding-eye killer, even thoughthe noyes were showing some other hidden meaning. That actually quite sealed it."
3. Isla's Empathic Call
> "Then came Isla's breakthrough. She described corridors of light and digital pulses in her mindscape. That wasn't just ramdom hallucinations — it was a neural network. She could feel others in stasis. That meant the project was bigger than organ harvesting. It was a collective experiment on cognition and nural links — treating subjects as a hive. Once I realized that, the clues lined up: multiple facilities, each a node in the network."
4. The Warehouse Video Log
> "The final piece was the warehouse. You remember the abandoned building I searched? Old security footage peeled back the lie: there was an extra pod, one never listed in any files — its subject was Isla. She wasn't a side project, she was the first success. The logs showed her unresponsive body, and then a team of scientists gathered around, discussing Phase Two expansions. That made me realize Perseus wasn't about organs — it was about controlling minds. Once you control minds, you control people. That's where it gets more scary. If my intuition is correct then Isla's powers are far beyond this."
He leaned back, eyes on the fading sunlight.
Brendon: "It also explains how she managed to call us when she was in that pod. (Turning to Isla) You can control electricity and with that you can see through people's brain too right? After all brain is all about electrical signals."
Christopher nodded slowly, impressed.
Christopher: "Elementary… but brilliant."
Brendon: "I will die from cringe. I swear."
Every other person present there laughs out loud.
---
Evening Falls – Farewell Dinner
They moved indoors to the long dining table under chandeliers. Mrs. Renneté poured wine — red for the adults, herbal tea for Isla. Soft laughter rose as they shared stories: Christopher's awkward press day, Isla's first night of sleep without nightmares, Brendon's favorite British pub memories.
Isla (to Brendon): "Promise you'll come visit Paris?"
He ruffled her hair.
Brendon: "Wouldn't miss it. But I am not seeing Réa anywhere else. Where is she?"
Renneté: "She is a rough hacker. And after that speech of her I don't think she would like to resurface in near future. Don't worry, my men are keeping rmtrack on her. She is safe. After all she helped us a lot."
Renneté caught his eye over the rim of her glass.
Renneté: "Pack your bags. Dawn's early."
Brendon raised his glass in salute.
Brendon: "To new beginnings."
They clinked glasses.
All: "To new beginnings."
---
English Channel, Dawn
A slender speedboat cut through the misty waters of the Channel. Brendon sat at the stern, the shoreline of Normandy fading behind him. The engines hummed against the lapping waves.
He smelled salt, freedom, and the promise of home.
Suddenly, a figure emerged from the bow's shadow: a lithe, chameleon-like anthro named Camelia Webbs, her emerald eyes reflecting first light.
Camelia (calmly):
"Brendon Wolf... or should I say sheriff Wolf, it's been a long time."
Brendon stood, hand instinctively brushing at his holster. The horizon held both danger and opportunity.
Brendon (quiet smile, with surprised eyes):
"Never expected to see your face again."