The stairwell into the hospital's basement felt like a tunnel carved straight into the earth. The fluorescent lights flickered weakly, casting long shadows that twisted with every step Aiden took.
Rourke's footsteps echoed ahead of him—steady, calm, almost too calm for what was happening above them.
Aiden spoke first. "You said my mother died here."
"Yes," Rourke replied without looking back. "And you will see why soon."
Aiden's jaw tightened. Memories of his mother—her trembling hands, her fading voice, her unexplained illness—stabbed at him like needles. She never told him anything.
Maybe she didn't know.
Or maybe she knew too much.
At the bottom of the staircase, a thick metal door blocked the path forward. Warning labels covered the surface:
BIOHAZARD
AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY
LEVEL 5 CLEARANCE REQUIRED
Rourke placed his hand on the scanner.
It beeped.
Unlocked.
Aiden frowned. "You work here?"
Rourke smirked faintly. "I work everywhere."
The door slid open with a hiss.
Cold air rushed out—sterile, metallic, dead.
Aiden stepped inside.
The hallway beyond was long and white, lined with shattered glass panels. Flickering red emergency lights bathed everything in a bloody hue. Files lay scattered across the floor, mixed with broken equipment, overturned carts, and what looked disturbingly like claw marks on the walls.
Aiden felt every hair on his arms rise.
"This place…" he whispered. "What happened here?"
Rourke walked beside him, hands in his pockets.
"Abraxas happened."
Aiden shot him a glare. "Stop being vague."
Rourke stopped walking.
"Aiden," he said quietly, "you weren't born normal. You were created."
Aiden froze.
"What?"
"Your mother was part of the early trials of Project Abraxas," Rourke continued. "Pregnant subjects were experimented on for genetic compatibility. Most didn't survive."
Aiden's entire body went cold.
"My mother was forced… into this?"
"No. She volunteered."
"Why would she do that?!"
"Because she was dying," Rourke said calmly. "And the project offered her a chance to live long enough to give birth to you. A chance to save you."
Aiden's breath shattered.
His mother… volunteered?
To save him?
"Your mutation," Rourke said, "is the result of what she endured."
Aiden's fists trembled. "Why didn't she tell me?"
"Would you have believed her?"
Aiden opened his mouth to argue—
but the truth silenced him.
He wouldn't have believed her.
Rourke continued walking. Aiden followed, shaken.
They reached a cracked observation window. Inside was a wide chamber—stainless steel walls, overhead lights swinging wildly, machines lying broken and crushed. Dark stains pooled across the floor.
Aiden stared inside.
"What was this place?"
Rourke's voice lowered. "This… was where the subjects were kept."
"Subjects," Aiden whispered. "As in—people?"
"No," Rourke said softly. "As in things that used to be people."
Aiden gritted his teeth. "And you let them suffer?"
Rourke's expression didn't change.
"You think they were victims? They were ticking time bombs. The mutation eats through the mind. You saw it upstairs."
Aiden did.
And he hated that Rourke wasn't wrong.
Something thumped.
Aiden jerked his head toward the far end of the hall.
Another thump.
Something heavy.
Metal dragging across the floor.
Rourke raised his hand. "Stay behind me."
Aiden stepped forward instead. "I'm not hiding."
A slow, rattling breath echoed in the darkness.
Then—
A massive silhouette emerged from the shadows.
A mutated figure easily seven feet tall, its muscles swollen and pulsing with dark veins. One arm hung longer than the other, claws scraping the tiles. Its eyes glowed bright red, like burning coals.
Aiden felt the pull again.
The predator instinct.
The creature growled, low and furious—
but didn't charge.
It stared at Aiden.
Recognizing him.
Responding to him.
Rourke murmured, "It senses you. The mutation is linked. You are its alpha."
Aiden's heart pounded. "I'm not its anything."
The creature sniffed the air and roared—
a sound that shook the floor.
Then it charged.
Aiden moved instantly—
faster, sharper, more precise than before.
He dodged the first strike, the claw slicing through the wall behind him. He kicked off the ground, flipping over the creature's back, landing lightly behind it. His body reacted before his mind could think—perfect instinct.
The creature spun, sweeping its massive arm at him. Aiden ducked under the blow and slammed his palm into its chest.
It staggered.
Aiden blinked.
His strength had increased again.
His pulse quickened—
not from fear,
but from something else.
Something darker.
He drove his knee into the creature's ribs, cracked something inside, then slammed it into the floor with a brutal twist.
The creature convulsed—
then lay still.
Aiden panted once, twice—then steadied.
Rourke walked forward, eyes narrowed. "Your mutation is accelerating faster than I predicted."
Aiden wiped blood from his face. "Why? What's happening to me?"
Rourke stepped closer, voice calm but deadly serious.
"Because you're not just an Aberrant," he said.
"You're the prime source."
Aiden's eyes widened. "The what?"
"You," Rourke said, "are the original strain. The one whose awakening triggers every other mutation around it."
The floor shuddered.
Lights flickered violently.
Alarms blared.
Rourke looked up.
"They're waking up."
Aiden swallowed.
"Who?"
Rourke's voice was almost a whisper.
"All of them."