INN FIELD BASE – TEMPORARY ANALYSIS ROOM – NIGHT
A single industrial lamp hangs above the rough metal table, casting a harsh cone of white light over scattered documents, shattered data chips, and the dust-covered briefcase that Madison Connor carried out of the collapsing ancient INN facility.
The room itself is quiet — too quiet — insulated from the chaos that has taken over New Atlantis in the last twenty-four hours.
MADISON CONNOR stands alone at the table.
Her gloves are still stained with the dust of the old lab, and her jacket bears a slash from where Prototype-2 had sent debris slicing past her.
Her fingers hover over the old file…
DR. ELIRA CROSS — NEURAL AUGMENTATION SERIES I
PROTOTYPE-1 TERMINATED
PROTOTYPE-2 PENDING REACTIVATION
Madison exhales slowly.
A breath filled with dread.
A breath filled with answers she never wanted.
She opens the file.
Dust rises like the ghosts of the past escaping into the air.
Inside — yellowed papers, fragments of holographic strips, half-burned diagrams… and the symbol "P-2" etched repeatedly, as if someone was trying to warn or remind themselves of the subject's importance.
She flips through the pages.
Then she stops.
Her eyes freeze.
Because now she finally understands something she feared since the ruins.
A page reveals the earliest Neuro-Link blueprint, entirely different from the modern one used on Steel.
Not sleek.
Not refined.
Not surgical.
But invasive.
Parasitic.
A design made not to support a human mind…
…but to override it.
Madison's breath leaves her chest.
[MADISON ] :(under her breath)…Override soldiers… not empower them.
She leans closer.
The next diagram is even worse — a neural interface crawling across the brainstem like metallic vines.
She keeps flipping.
Until she reaches the most chilling page yet:
A holographic imprint flickers weakly…
The face of Dr. Elira Cross.
Jaxon Steel's mother.
Calm. Focused. Sharp.
A scientist locked in her prime.
And beneath her signature, packed in handwritten ink:
"Subject-09 shows unexpected neural resilience.
Candidate perfect for future activation."
Madison's fingers tighten.
A cold realization spreads down her spine like poison.
Dr. Elira Cross wasn't just experimenting.
She was preparing.
Planning.
Someone designed Subject-09 — the corpse they found — to survive decades.
To outlive time.
To wake up in the future.
Madison closes the file slowly.
She knows now:
Subject-09 didn't die accidentally.
Someone engineered him to endure.
And someone intended to bring him back.
A truth heavier than any weapon she's wielded in her life settles in her chest.
Before she can process further—
The door bursts open.
DR. IRIS KADE rushes in, breathless, clutching a salvaged data core.
[Dr.Iris Kade]:Commander— we finished reconstructing the corrupted memory log.
She slides a handheld projector onto the table.
It hums.
Crackles.
Then stabilizes.
A blurry recording plays.
The ancient cryo-chamber appears — the same chamber that collapsed earlier.
Dust floats in the air.
Light flickers.
A tall figure steps into view.
Long coat.
Broad frame.
Movements precise, almost mechanical.
The figure approaches the cryo-pod.
Touches the console with familiar confidence.
Manually overrides the cryo-lock.
Madison squints.
The face is half obscured by static.
Shadowed.
Unreadable.
But the silhouette…
The posture…
The way the figure moves like a predator taught by science and war…
Madison recognizes it.
A flicker of something painful crosses her eyes.
[Dr.Iris Kade]:Do you… know who that is?
Madison doesn't answer.
She can't.
Her throat locks.
Her eyes burn with recognition she refuses to voice.
Because the figure in that memory…
the ghost who awakened Subject-09 eighteen years ago…
It resembles someone she knows.
Someone she once trusted.
Someone the entire world believes is dead.
Someone forged not by INN…
But Madison says nothing.
She simply turns off the recording.
Her voice is low, dangerous, steady.
[MADISON]:Keep this off INN servers.
No one sees this without my clearance.
Iris nods, shaken.
Madison picks up the briefcase containing Elira's file.
Her expression darkens.
Because she knows:
This recording will destroy everything they believe about the Neuro-Link.
About Jaxon Steel's origin.
About INN's past.
About who engineered the monsters rising again.
And this is only the beginning.
---
NEW ATLANTIS – INN HQ — MORNING (24 HOURS LATER)
The headquarters buzzes with corporate tension.
Agents rushing.
Screens flashing alerts.
Department heads arguing in hallways.
The Oversight Committee arrives tomorrow.
Thirty elite political auditors with full authority to interrogate, suspend, even dismantle INN structure.
Everyone is on edge.
In Charles Livingston's office — still temporarily assigned to Madison during investigations — a quiet professional tension hangs.
SUSAN stands outside the door, files in hand.
She knocks.
[SUSAN]:Sir? May I come in?
[ CHARLES ](from inside):Enter.
She walks in.
Charles Livingston sits at the desk — tired but disciplined, reading final government directives. There's a hint of gray at his temples, a shadow under his eyes, but his posture is straight, corporate, and commanding.
Susan sets the compiled reports on the table:
Hydra attack recap
Neuro-Link analysis
Public threat sentiment index
Subject-09 findings (sanitized version)
Field status updates
Charles glances at her.
[CHARLES]:These are the files Madison requested for the inter-division audit?
[SUSAN]:Yes, sir. Everything except the classified lab materials — she's still reviewing those personally.
He nods.
Silence.
But Susan notices something:
Charles's fingers rest on a confidential government directive…
and he is shaking.
Barely.
A tremor he tries to hide.
Susan's tone softens — subtly, respectfully.
[SUSAN]:You haven't slept, sir.
Charles clenches his jaw.
[CHARLES]:No one in leadership sleeps during a political execution.
She studies him — not intrusively, but observantly.
There is something in her eyes, something sharp, intelligent, quietly powerful.
Charles notices that.
And for a moment, he looks at her differently — not as an assistant.
But as someone who carries more strength than she lets show.
[CHARLES]:…You analyze things beyond your job description. I see that.
Susan doesn't flinch.
[SUSAN]:I observe because INN needs people who see more than what's on paper.
A faint tension passes between them.
Not romantic.
Not aggressive.
Something else.
A sense that Susan Thomas — calm, composed, always in the background — is not an ordinary woman.
Charles narrows his eyes slightly.
He can't place it.
But he senses something different, layered beneath her politeness.
A presence.
An instinctive authority.
He pushes the thought aside.
[CHARLES]:Thank you. Dismissed.
Susan nods and exits — her expression calm, unreadable.
But as she walks down the hallway…
A subtle shift flickers behind her eyes.
She knows more about Neuro-Link than she revealed.
And she also knows:
Tomorrow, when the Oversight Committee arrives…
the entire foundation of INN will be tested.
---
NEW ATLANTIS – NIGHT
News drones buzz above the skyline.
Media vans camp outside the HQ.
Screens across the city flash:
"INN UNDER INVESTIGATION"
"HYDRA THREAT RISES – CITY DEMANDS ANSWERS"
The city has turned cold.
Suspicious.
Fearful.
And the worst part?
Hydra knows INN is vulnerable.
---
HYDRA SAFEHOUSE — SAME TIME
Ravenstrike and Shardeye land on a rooftop.
They kneel as a hologram ignites.
VANGOR DRALE appears — silent, calculating, terrifying in his stillness.
[VANGOR DRALE]:Phase II begins now.
Prepare for extraction.
Ravenstrike smirks.
[RAVENSTRIKE]:Already got Lopez wrapped up. What's next?
[VANGOR DRALE]:Now… we break the chains INN has wrapped around itself.
The hologram flickers out.
Shardeye turns to Ravenstrike.
[SHARDEYE]:In 24 hours, INN collapses.
Ravenstrike cracks his knuckles.
[RAVENSTRIKE]:And we'll be there to watch.
They melt into the night like armored shadows.
---
TO BE CONTINUED....