The snow swallowed every step, each crunch lost to the wind as Aria and Echo ran. Trees blurred past. Aria's lungs burned, her heart thundering with more than just exertion.
Kael was gone.
She refused to let that mean lost.
Echo led the way with uncanny precision, weaving through dense forest like she had memorized the earth itself. They didn't speak. There wasn't time. But Aria could hear it behind them—low thuds, distant howls, and a pulsing energy in the air that made her skin crawl.
Whatever was chasing them wasn't human.
They didn't stop until the forest gave way to a frozen clearing. In its center, hidden beneath a jagged layer of ice, lay a metal hatch. Rusted, barely visible, but unmistakably man-made.
Echo dropped to her knees, brushing away snow and ice with trembling hands. "This is it."
Aria stared down. "How do you know the code still works?"
"I don't."
With no hesitation, Echo sliced her palm with a shard of broken glass from her coat pocket and let the blood drip onto a scanner embedded in the hatch. The light blinked.
Then hissed green.
Metal groaned. The hatch opened slowly, exhaling a gust of ancient, frozen air. The stench of metal and something decayed hit Aria's nose.
"You first," Echo said, voice flat.
Aria swallowed hard and climbed down the rusted ladder into the dark. Her boots hit solid ground. She reached for her flashlight and swept it across the room.
Stone walls.
Dust.
Desks overturned.
Files scattered like forgotten memories.
Echo descended behind her, closing the hatch above them. The silence that followed was deafening.
"This was where it began," Echo murmured, stepping forward.
Aria turned in a slow circle. "What is this place?"
"A lab. The original one. Before Red Hollow. Before everything." She moved toward a glass wall at the back, cracked but still intact. "They called it Genesis Zero."
The name sent a chill down Aria's spine.
She stepped closer to the wall and found rows of tanks behind it—some shattered, others still glowing faintly. Inside one was a skeleton, curled in fetal position.
"They were trying to make weapons," Echo said. "Living ones. We were never meant to live outside these walls."
"But we did."
Echo looked at her. "Not all of us."
Aria moved to a nearby desk and began rummaging through folders. Most were water-damaged or burned, but one caught her eye—a photograph. Two infants, swaddled in matching blankets, tagged only as Subject A13 and Subject A14.
Her breath hitched.
She recognized her own eyes staring back at her.
She flipped the photo over. "Dormant pair. High compatibility. Potential for accelerated fusion."
"What does it mean?" she whispered.
Echo looked over her shoulder. "It means you weren't just created. You were part of a bond. A pair. Designed to balance each other."
Aria turned to her. "With who?"
But Echo was already backing away.
The hairs on Aria's neck rose. "Echo?"
Echo's hands trembled. "We need to leave. Now."
Before Aria could question her, a loud crack split the air. The ceiling groaned.
And then—darkness.
The lights above flickered, then died completely.
In the pitch black, Aria heard it—a dragging sound. Metal on stone. And something breathing.
Not Echo.
Something else.
"Don't move," Echo hissed.
But Aria already had.
She stumbled backward, bumping into cold glass. She raised her flashlight—and froze.
A figure stood just beyond the glass wall. Thin. Unmoving. Its skin was translucent, stretched over visible veins. Its eyes glowed.
And then it smiled.
The wall shattered.
Aria screamed as shards flew. Echo lunged forward, grabbing her arm and pulling her into a narrow corridor. They ran blindly, the creature's hissing echoing behind them.
"They kept the failures here," Echo panted. "They didn't all die."
"You think?" Aria snapped, dodging debris.
They turned a corner, only to find another locked door. Echo scanned her hand again, but this time the light blinked red.
"No," she muttered. "No, no, no—"
Aria raised her arm and slammed her elbow into the control panel. Sparks flew. The door groaned—then opened.
They slipped inside, slamming it shut.
Aria doubled over, panting. The room was colder. Dustier. But safer. At least for now.
Echo sank to the floor. "We shouldn't have come."
"But we had to," Aria said. "We need answers."
She scanned the room.
In the corner was a terminal—old, cracked, but humming faintly. She approached it, fingers trembling as she powered it on.
A login screen blinked to life.
PASSWORD REQUIRED.
She stared at the keyboard.
Then typed: LUNA.
It worked.
The screen flickered, then displayed a list of files. She clicked on the top one: "Subject A14—Final Protocol."
The screen filled with data—heart rate charts, brain scans, and then, at the bottom, a video file.
"Should I—?" she asked.
Echo didn't answer.
Aria clicked play.
A woman appeared on screen, wearing a lab coat and a haunted expression.
"This is Dr. Mara Voss, lead on Project Luna. This is my final log. If anyone finds this… know that we tried. We thought we were saving humanity. Instead, we broke it."
She paused, voice trembling.
"Subject A14 was the only success. The dormant twin. We never expected her to wake naturally. But her bond with Subject A13 changed everything."
Aria's mouth went dry.
"Together, they were supposed to balance destruction with control. Light and dark. Fire and frost. But something went wrong. Subject A13 began to fracture. He became unstable. Dangerous. The bond was severed."
Aria's chest tightened.
"I had to separate them. Hide A14 before they found her. I placed her into the system. Gave her a new name."
She looked directly into the camera.
"Aria Blake. You are the only one who can stop him. But you have to remember who he is. You have to remember who you are."
The video ended.
Echo was crying silently.
Aria stared at the screen, heart pounding.
Subject A13.
The bond.
Light and dark.
She looked at Echo. "Kael… he's A13."
Echo didn't answer.
She didn't need to.
Aria stood. The room suddenly felt too small. Her lungs too tight.
"I have to find him," she said.
Echo grabbed her arm. "No. Not now. You just learned what you are—"
"I've always known," Aria said quietly. "Somewhere deep down, I always knew I was meant for more. That he was part of me."
Echo's eyes glistened. "And if he's gone too far?"
"Then I bring him back. Or I end it."
They stared at each other in the cold, flickering light.
Then Echo nodded. "We'll go together."
But Aria wasn't listening anymore.
In her mind, she could feel it—something distant. A pull. Like a thread stretching across the miles. A heartbeat that matched her own.
Kael.
He was calling to her.
And she would answer.