After their bitter victory, Alpha and his squad made their way back to base, wrapped in a heavy, almost sacred silence. No one spoke. Each of them wore their shame and pain like a cracked armor.
---
Meanwhile, at the Academy, Aedan returned to his classroom, his face impassive, just minutes after his chilling exchange with the Director of the NEW ORDER.
— Everything okay, Delegate? asked Denis, one of his classmates, in a tone half curious, half sarcastic.
Aedan barely lifted his eyes.
— Why wouldn't it be?
— I'm not asking out of concern... It's your EMOTRACK. It just turned orange.
— Just a migraine, Aedan replied, curtly.
— If you say so...
The conversation ended there. The teacher entered. The academic routine resumed, mechanically. Hours slipped by, dull, until the final bell rang. Everyone was allowed to leave the premises.
The day ended like that... And slowly, the moon took the place of the sun, as if nothing had happened.
But behind this appearance of normality, the day left behind a scent of doubt, sadness... and a deep, simmering anger.
And yet, the night hadn't had its final word.
---
NEW ORDER Headquarters – Command Room
Nothing was silent, contrary to habit. The walls buzzed with tension. A cold rage had settled in the air, as sharp as a scalpel.
— To eliminate a single Neuroflux, I lost twenty men! barked the Director, standing before a holographic table splattered in red.
He swept his gaze across the officers present.
— Who dared assign me a team of incompetents?! Who was the Red Patroller leading the unit?
An awkward silence. Then a hesitant voice rose:
— It was Agent Gabrielle, sir…
The Director narrowed his eyes.
— Him again. I suppose he's dead this time.
— He took a bullet to the head...
The Director raised an eyebrow, a nearly amused smirk on his lips.
— For once, some good news.
— But... he survived, sir. He's currently in surgery.
Silence fell again, ice-cold.
Only one word came from the Director's mouth:
— Unacceptable.
Abandoned complex, away from the city
At those words, the Director's hologram vanished in a bluish crackle, leaving behind a chilling void.
But everyone knew… this was just the beginning.
The real trouble was only starting.
---
Meanwhile, with Elya…
— Where are you taking me? asked Elya, out of breath.
— Where it all began, replied Naël without turning back.
— It all began? Elya repeated, frowning.
Silence fell again. Naël walked with confident steps, guiding Elya through the ruins of an old complex, far from the city. Half-collapsed buildings, eaten by rust, stretched out around them like relics of a forgotten past. Eventually, they stopped in front of a heavy metal door, hidden beneath dead vines.
Inside, a dark room with cracked walls. A flickering light revealed sagging shelves, piles of old files stacked directly on the floor.
— Looks like an old lab... Elya murmured, scanning the room.
She approached the files and opened one, then another, brow furrowed.
— What is all this?
Naël crossed her arms.
— The story of the creation of the SERENEX.
Elya looked up, frozen.
— A long time ago, the world was falling apart. Violence. Riots. Coups. The existing governments, unable to stop the chaos, blamed humanity itself—or rather, our emotions.
She paused.
— That's when they had an idea. Crazy, but logical in their eyes: eradicate emotions. Destroy them at the source. So secret programs were launched. Scientists were mobilized to create a serum capable of neutralizing the brain areas tied to emotions. Years of research. Repeated failures.
She turned to Elya.
— Then, one name emerged: Professor Evans. A genius. Your ancestor.
— My ancestor? Elya interrupted, surprised.
Naël raised a mocking eyebrow.
— No one ever told you it's rude to interrupt? Who raised you, honestly? Anyway. I'm continuing.
She resumed, more serious:
— They said his IQ was nearly as high as Einstein's. The government approached him. To convince him, they lied. They made him believe it was for military purposes, to "save humanity" — yeah right. He accepted.
Naël placed a hand on an old metal crate, then continued:
— In three months, he did what no one had managed in years: he developed a stable, functional serum. He named it SERENEX.
— When he discovered the truth, he tried to destroy his work. But it was too late. The NEW ORDER was already in power.
The first tests had turned men into puppets. Obedient. Disconnected. Mindless.
Naël went on, softer:
— Wracked with guilt, he began working on an antidote. A cure. But they killed him before he could finish it.
Elya had stopped breathing. Her heart pounded in her chest.
Naël concluded:
— Years later, his son—your grandfather—resumed the research. But he died of cancer... before he could finish it.
— And… did someone eventually finish this antidote? asked Elya, breathless.
— No, not to my...
— Of course it was finished, interrupted a voice behind her.
Elya spun around.
— Denivela?! But... earlier today, you said my parents worked for the NEW ORDER. How's that possible? I don't get it...
Naël raised a brow, intrigued.
— What're you going on about now, old lady?
Denivela didn't flinch.
— It's true. They joined the NEW ORDER, but for one reason only: to gain access to the resources, high-end equipment, and all the confidential data. They risked everything... to complete what Professor Evans started.
Naël let out a short, mocking laugh.
— I knew age messes with neurons, but not to this level. If that's true, and the antidote really is complete... then where is this so-called miracle?
Elya nodded softly, her eyes wary.
— Yeah. Where is it?
Denivela gave an enigmatic smile.
— You only had to ask.
— It's right here, with us.
Naël stepped back, eyes wide.
— Okay, officially calling it. The old lady's lost it.
— I don't get it, whispered Elya, lost.
— Nothing to get, she's just insane, Naël shot back harshly.
Denivela remained unfazed. Her gaze was calm, almost tender.
— Elya… you are the antidote.
Silence crashed into the room like a guillotine.
— What? Wait… I'm the antidote?
Naël stepped back again, throwing her hands in the air.
— That's it, I'm out. Never in my life have I heard this much bullshit in so little time.
— You weren't welcome anyway, Denivela retorted coldly.
> "Elya took a step back, as if the ground had vanished beneath her feet."
"Her gaze wavered. Her throat was dry."
— Wait, insisted Elya, her voice cracked by confusion. I'm what, exactly?
Denivela stepped closer.
— When your parents completed the antidote and tested it, they didn't know where to store it. So they had an idea: they put it in you.
— Wait… in my what?
— Your body, Elya. Back then, no one knew they had a child. It was the perfect plan: hide you, and retrieve the antidote later.
Denivela paused a moment, as if overwhelmed by memories.
— But there was that accident. You were three. A metal shard pierced the left wall of your heart… and hit the antidote capsule.
Elya's eyes widened.
— Since then, your body slowly assimilated the components. And your heart, pumping blood, spread the serum throughout your body, year after year.
Naël stared, speechless. Then, in a nearly ironic whisper:
— In other words... you've become a walking antidote factory.
— The proof's right here, said Denivela. Naël, cut her finger.
— And why the hell would I do that? Naël replied warily.
— Because I'm blind, Denivela said with a sly smile.
— And that justifies hurting me?
— Forget it, Denivela sighed. Naël, take her to a room.
— Whoa, easy there, old lady. I don't work for you, Naël snapped.
— Still as aggressive as ever, I see...
A deep, calm voice echoed from the shadows.
— I'd recognize that voice anywhere. Arthur, is that you?
— That aura… as dark as a scoundrel. Arthur Duster, Naël hissed.
— The one and only, he replied with a crooked smile.
He stepped toward Elya and, without hesitation, took her hand.
— And who's this lovely young lady?
— I... I'm Elya, she replied, startled.
— Get your filthy scoundrel hands off her! Naël growled.
— Arthur, meet Elya Denver, said Denivela calmly.
Arthur froze.
— Denver?... Humanity's last hope.
Denivela turned, flanked by three men in dark uniforms.
— I'll let you get acquainted. She'll meet the rest of the Resistance tomorrow.
As she walked away, Arthur called out:
— By the way… Denivela, where's Alpha?
— He's resting. He'll see both of you tomorrow, she said without looking back.
Arthur nodded, then turned to the two girls.
Naël leaned against the wall, arms crossed, silent since their arrival. She eyed Elya sideways.
— You two been together long? he asked.
Naël shrugged.
— Not really. We crossed paths at the right time.
— The right time, huh, Arthur echoed, mocking.
He glanced at Elya.
— You know how to use a weapon, Elya?
— A... a weapon? No.
— Well then, you're still a tourist.
— Arthur... Naël growled. Was that necessary?
— Just saying, he replied with a smirk. Around here, you need to survive.
If not, you're dead weight. And I hate dead weight.
Naël slightly stepped between him and Elya.
— She just escaped the Patrollers. She's not dead weight. She'll learn.
Arthur raised his hands.
— Chill, I'm not saying anything. Just hope she doesn't die tomorrow.
Elya clenched her fists, swallowing the lump in her throat.
— Fine, I'll sleep with one eye open, she said.
Naël gave a faint smile.
— You'll mostly sleep. You need it.
Arthur walked away down the hall. Before turning the corner, he called out:
— Tomorrow, Alpha will tell you what's next. But be ready.
Nothing you believe here... is real.
Elya and Naël were alone again.
— Is he always like that? asked Elya.
— He plays tough. But he's been through hell too.
A short silence.
— Thanks, Naël… For earlier.
Naël looked away, a little embarrassed.
— Yeah... but don't get used to it. I'm not the social type.
— I know. That's why it matters even more.
Naël didn't answer. A silence settled — heavy, yet strangely soothing.
Then, in a low voice, almost a whisper:
— Get some rest, Elya. Tomorrow, everything changes.