The cold hit them first—the kind that bites the lungs and fills every breath with metal. Behind them, the cabin was already burning, flames licking the night like a warning beacon. Adrian didn't look back; he only tightened his grip on Lena's hand.
"Keep your head down," he said, pulling her toward the ravine where their backup vehicle waited.
The forest around them glowed faintly blue beneath the light of the hovering drones. Their search beams sliced through the trees, mechanical voices echoing: "Target confirmed. Acquire."
Lena stumbled over a root, breath ragged. "They're faster than before."
"They've upgraded," Adrian muttered, pushing branches aside. "Which means someone's desperate."
When they reached the ravine, he shoved a tarp off a matte-black motorcycle—compact, silent, built for speed. Lena's eyes widened. "You still keep these things lying around?"
"Old habits," he said. "Get on."
The engine purred to life, and the night exploded into motion.
They raced down the dirt path, wind cutting through them, rain starting again in hard, stinging sheets. Behind them, lights burst through the treeline—drones following in formation. Adrian gunned the throttle, guiding them toward the crumbling highway ahead.
"Adrian!" Lena shouted over the wind. "Where are we going?"
"Anywhere that isn't here!"
A burst of plasma lit the road beside them. Asphalt shattered. Adrian swerved, the back wheel skidding, but he kept control.
"Hold on!"
They shot through the ruins of an old toll station. Adrian twisted the handlebars, sending the bike off the broken exit ramp and down a slope into the drainage tunnels. Concrete walls swallowed them, and the roar of water replaced the sound of the storm.
Adrian killed the engine and listened. Only the distant hum of the drones remained aboveground.
"We lost them," he whispered.
Lena slid off the bike, clutching her stomach. "Not for long."
He moved to her side immediately. "You okay?"
She nodded, but her skin glistened with sweat. "It's just… pressure. Like something's pulling inside me."
He knelt, scanning her with his wrist-link device. The readings flickered erratically—elevated pulse, neural surges, light frequency irregularities.
"Your vitals are spiking again."
"I can handle it," she said between breaths. "Just give me a minute."
He wanted to believe her, but the fear in her eyes told him she didn't believe it herself.
They walked deeper into the tunnel until they reached a maintenance alcove. Adrian checked the map on his device—an old network left over from when these tunnels still drained the lower districts. "We can reach the subway lines from here. They won't risk sending drones underground."
Lena sank to the floor, exhaustion finally catching up. The light under her skin pulsed faintly again—soft, rhythmic, like a second heartbeat.
Adrian crouched in front of her. "We need to talk about what's happening to you."
She met his gaze, calm but scared. "It's changing me."
He didn't deny it. "Yes. But we can still stop it. The files mentioned inhibitors—"
She shook her head. "If we use them, we risk hurting the baby. And if we don't…"
"Then we find another way," he said quickly.
Her voice softened. "You still think you can save everyone."
He gave a tired half-smile. "Old habits again."
For a long moment, the silence between them wasn't heavy—it was fragile, human. Rainwater dripped through cracks in the ceiling, forming ripples in the puddles at their feet.
Then Lena spoke. "When this started, I thought it was punishment. For trusting you. For loving you."
He froze, every word a blade.
"But now," she continued, "I think it's the only reason I'm still alive."
He reached out, brushing his thumb against her cheek, careful, hesitant. "We'll make it through this. Both of you."
A faint smile ghosted her lips. "You say that like you still believe in miracles."
He didn't answer. Somewhere deep inside, he wasn't sure he did.
A faint crackle broke the moment—his comm-device flickering to life with static.
> Unknown Signal Detected. Channel 04.
Adrian frowned and adjusted the frequency. The voice that came through was rough, distorted—but familiar.
"Cole… if you can hear this… you're not safe. They activated Omega Protocol. Get her to the Core."
"Who is this?" Adrian demanded.
No reply—just static. Then one last word, almost a whisper: "Victor."
Lena's eyes widened. "He's alive?"
Adrian exhaled slowly. "Or someone wants us to think he is."
He stood, pacing. "The Core. That's deep within the city grid. It's suicide trying to reach it."
"Then why would Victor tell you to go there?"
He didn't answer right away. "Because that's where the main servers are. If there's proof of what Erevos did—every experiment, every death—it's there."
Lena pushed herself up, steadying on the wall. "Then that's where we go."
"Lena, no. You're barely holding together."
"I'm not the one who needs saving," she said, eyes blazing. "You are."
Her words hit deeper than any bullet.
He looked at her—really looked—and saw not the frightened scientist from months ago but someone hardened by loss, by love, by resolve.
"Fine," he said. "We go. But we move now."
They mounted the bike again, exiting the tunnels into the lower district—a maze of collapsed overpasses and drowned streets. The rain hadn't stopped. Lightning flashed in the distance, illuminating the skeletal skyline of New Haven City.
As they rode, Lena leaned close enough that he could feel her breath near his neck. "When this is over, what happens to us?"
He didn't answer at first. The question wasn't fair—not when the future looked like smoke.
Finally, he said, "We stop running."
"And then?"
He smiled without humor. "Then we see if there's anything left worth saving."
Ahead, the ruins gave way to the glittering underbelly of the city—the old subway entrance half-buried under debris. Adrian stopped the bike and scanned the area.
"Stay here," he said, drawing his weapon. "I'll check the entrance."
Lena caught his arm. "Don't leave me."
He looked back at her, the storm reflecting in his eyes. "I won't."
They moved together through the dark passage, the smell of oil and rust thick in the air. Somewhere above, engines rumbled—the search was closing in again.
They reached the platform, lit by flickering emergency lights. And there, on the far wall, a message was scrawled in white chalk:
> "Follow the light beneath the rails."
Lena frowned. "What does that mean?"
Adrian crouched, running his hand along the metal track. A faint hum vibrated under his palm—a hidden current. He pressed a button on his wrist-link, and part of the rail slid aside, revealing a narrow passage glowing faintly blue.
"A maintenance tunnel," he said. "Someone wants us to find it."
Lena hesitated. "Victor?"
"Maybe. Or someone else inside Erevos who doesn't want this going further."
They slipped inside, the door sealing behind them. The tunnel descended steeply, the blue light illuminating their faces.
Lena glanced down at her stomach again—the glow within her matched the tunnel's hue.
Adrian noticed. "It's resonating."
"With what?"
"Something below us," he said quietly.
The air grew warmer the deeper they went. The hum turned into a low vibration that echoed through their bones. And then, in the distance, light—brighter, pulsing like a heartbeat.
They emerged into a cavernous chamber lined with glass pods. Inside each, silhouettes floated—some human, some not quite.
Lena pressed a hand to her mouth. "Dear God… how many?"
Adrian's expression hardened. "Hundreds."
A console blinked to life beside them. The same phrase appeared across the screen:
> Erevos Core System: Awaiting Command.
Adrian stepped forward. "They wanted us to come here. This is the Core."
Lena's voice trembled. "Then let's finish it."
He placed his hand on the scanner. "Initiate data extraction."
The system whirred, screens lighting up around them with endless files—each one a confession of what had been done in the name of progress.
But before they could move, alarms blared, and the chamber doors began to close.
Adrian turned, gun raised. "They're here."
Lena looked up at the central pod where the brightest light pulsed—almost alive. "Adrian…"
He followed her gaze—and froze.
Inside the pod was a small figure. A child. Breathing. Glowing.
The same glow as Lena.
Her whisper was almost lost in the sirens. "It's not just our baby they made."
Adrian's world tilted. "Then what is it?"
She looked at him, eyes wide with horror. "It's the first."