The summit chamber was unlike any boardroom Ikris had ever seen.
It was circular, windowless, the walls made of polished obsidian and screens that displayed nothing but the company's symbol: a flickering flame inside a hollow hexagon. At the center stood a table shaped like a wheel, with thirteen seats, only six of which were currently filled.
And at the head, in a chair taller than the rest, sat Marius Igan—the patriarch, the emperor behind the empire, and Ikris's father.
The moment Ikris entered, every head turned.
"Ikris," Marius said calmly, folding his hands. "Or should I say, Subject 0001?"
Ikris didn't flinch. "I'm here as myself. Not your experiment."
The woman two seats down—Dr. Selene Raas, head of biotech—smirked. "Then leave the blade. Civility is policy in the chamber."
Ikris unsheathed the katana and placed it, tip-first, into the floor. The steel sank slightly into the polished tile.
"I'm not here to be civil. I'm here for answers."
Marius leaned back. "And what do you think you'll achieve with theatrics? You're trespassing in a facility protected by twenty levels of security and multiple kill orders."
Lyssa stepped beside Ikris, air swirling around her fingertips. "That's cute. We bypassed them all."
Sevik checked the exit. "And we can leave the same way we came in. Or not. Your call."
Marius stood. He was taller than Ikris remembered—his silver hair immaculate, his tailored suit flawless. The man radiated authority like heat from a furnace.
"You broke into the heart of your inheritance to… what? Prove a point? Challenge your father?"
"No," Ikris said. "To expose you. I have your files. The Emberseed trials. The genetic degradation logs. The list of subjects you discarded."
"You were always too sentimental," Marius replied, voice cold. "Power demands sacrifice. You were just the first draft. Darian will finish what you couldn't."
Ikris's voice dropped. "He's a child."
"He's the future."
Ikris stepped forward, katana humming softly in its sheath. "Then I guess I'm here to burn the past."
One of the board members reached for a silent alarm.
Sevik shot the device with pinpoint accuracy. "Let's keep this private."
The room froze.
"You won't win this way, Ikris," Marius said. "You're still my creation."
"No," Ikris growled. "I'm your reckoning."
The summit chamber descended into chaos.
The night before the infiltration, they stayed in a cheap capsule hotel near the subway. No one recognized them—just three young adults in oversized hoodies and backpacks.
They rented three stacked pods. Ikris took the middle.
He lay on his back, staring at the plastic ceiling, listening to the faint hum of the ventilation system. His thoughts refused to settle.
A soft knock came from above.
Lyssa peeked her head down from her pod. "You awake?"
"Yeah."
"Sevik's snoring."
"I noticed."
She shifted and climbed halfway down into his pod, her legs dangling.
"You okay?" she asked, voice quiet in the dim light.
Ikris shrugged. "We've come so far. And yet… I keep thinking what if this is it? What if we don't make it out?"
She nudged his shoulder. "Then we make it count."
He smiled faintly. "You always say that."
"Because it's true."
She looked at him, eyes softer than usual. "You're not him, you know. Not your father. Not the monster in the files."
"I know," he said, barely a whisper. "But I still feel… like a weapon with too much fire."
"Then be a weapon that chooses its target."
She climbed back up. "Get some rest. We've got a tower to break tomorrow."
The next morning, Sevik insisted on breakfast.
"Last real meal before everything explodes," he said, balancing a tray with three plates of greasy noodles and eggs.
"I can't tell if this is food or punishment," Lyssa muttered, chewing slowly.
"It's both," Sevik said proudly.
They found a quiet bench outside the station. New Avalon bustled around them—clean trains, gleaming towers, the distant roar of vertical traffic lanes.
For a second, it felt almost peaceful.
Ikris watched a little girl chasing a bubble drone, laughing.
"This city," he said. "All these people, and they have no idea what the Igan name really means."
"They don't need to," Lyssa said. "They just need someone willing to burn it down."
"And rebuild it right," Sevik added.
They stood, shoulders touching, backpacks slung tight.
"Ready?" Ikris asked.
"Let's go light a match," Lyssa said.