The silence in the safehouse was heavier than lead.
On the screen, the live feed cycled through the cameras of the hidden laboratory. Row after row of glass tanks. Inside each one floated a boy, roughly ten years old, suspended in a glowing blue nutrient solution.
They all had the same dark hair. The same sharp jawline.
They were all Lucas.
"Three hundred," Alexander Vane said, his voice devoid of its usual cynicism. He tapped his cane on the floor, a nervous tic. "I count three hundred viable subjects. And those are just the ones in this sector."
Lucas tried to stand up from the medical chair.
He failed.
His legs gave out, and he collapsed back onto the leather, his breath hitching. The adrenaline from the club had evaporated, leaving behind the wreckage of his biology.
He reached for a glass of water on the metal tray next to him.
His hand—the human one—trembled so violently that the water sloshed over the rim. His crystal arm lay dead at his side, heavy as a stone anchor, currently rebooting from the inhibitor shot.
"Don't," Elena said softly.
She stepped forward, took the glass, and held it to his lips. Her hands were steady, a stark contrast to his. Lucas drank greedily, the water soothing the sandpaper dryness of his throat.
"They aren't just clones, Lucas," Elena said, her eyes fixed on the screen. She typed a command into her tablet, bringing up the biometric data from the stolen drive. "Look at their genetic markers."
[SUBJECT 145: STATUS - INCUBATING]
[VIRAL LOAD: 98%]
[CALCIFICATION: 0%]
"Ninety-eight percent," Lucas rasped. "That's impossible. I survived at sixty. Anything higher is... it's a statue. They should be dead."
"They are dead," Alexander corrected. "Mentally, at least. The Shogun isn't growing people, Lucas. He's growing husks. Empty vessels designed to hold the virus without the pesky interference of a human soul."
Alexander turned to face them, his face grim in the blue light of the monitors.
"He doesn't want an army of soldiers. He wants an army of batteries."
Lucas looked at his own arm. The blue light beneath the crystal skin was dim, pulsing slowly like a dying star. He remembered the pain in the club. The voice in his head. Feed me.
If the Shogun succeeded, he would unleash three hundred uncontrollable, hunger-mad crystal monsters onto the world.
"Where is it?" Lucas asked.
"The coordinates point to an old geothermal plant in the Northern Wastes," Alexander said. "Heavily fortified. Automated turrets. A small army of mercenaries."
"We go tonight," Lucas said.
"You can't even hold a glass of water!" Elena snapped, her composure cracking. "Your neural pathways are fried. If you activate the arm again within twenty-four hours, the crystallization will jump the shoulder. It will hit your lungs, Lucas. You will suffocate while turning into a diamond."
Lucas looked at her. He saw the fear in her eyes. It wasn't fear of the mission; it was fear of losing him.
He hated that he had to ignore it.
"If we wait," Lucas said, his voice hardening, "they wake up. Look at the timer."
He pointed to the corner of the screen.
[INCUBATION CYCLE COMPLETE IN: 04:00:00]
Four hours.
"The Shogun is accelerating the process," Lucas said. "He knows we stole the key. He's flushing the system. If those things wake up in four hours, this city—and everyone in it—is gone."
Elena looked at the timer, then back at Lucas. She bit her lip, tasting blood.
"Tank," she ordered. "Get the rig."
The giant man in the corner nodded solemnly. "You sure, boss? The Exoskeleton is still a prototype."
"Just get it," Lucas ordered.
[The Armory - 10 Minutes Later]
Lucas stood in the center of the room while mechanical arms assembled the armor around him.
This wasn't just a suit. It was a life-support system weaponized for war.
[SYSTEM BOOT...]
[TORSO: Gen-3 Weave (Impact Hardening)]
[LEGS: Hydraulic Assist (compensating for nerve damage)]
[RIGHT ARM: Containment Sleeve (Active Cooling)]
A heavy, matte-black metal sleeve clamped over his crystal arm. Liquid nitrogen hissed as it circulated through the sleeve, keeping the virus temperature low.
Lucas took a deep breath. The suit synthesized the air, sharpening his senses. The trembling in his left hand stopped as the servos locked into place.
He didn't feel human anymore. He felt like a tank.
"Interface check," Elena's voice came through the helmet.
A HUD (Heads-Up Display) flickered into existence before Lucas's eyes.
[HUMANITY INDEX: 87%]
[RESONANCE CODEX: TIER 1 - UNLOCKED]
[AVAILABLE ABILITIES: Seismic Pulse, Shatter Point, Crystal Skin.]
"I've locked the viral output to 40%," Elena warned. "The suit will physically stop you if you try to draw more power. Do not override it, Lucas. I mean it."
"Let's move," Lucas said.
He grabbed the Shatter Pistol from the rack and magnetized it to his thigh.
They walked toward the garage where the transport waited. Tank was loading a minigun into the back of the van. Alexander was polishing a silver long-sword that he had drawn from his cane.
Suddenly, the lights in the safehouse flickered.
The screens on the wall—all twelve of them—went black.
"Elena?" Lucas asked, his hand hovering over his pistol. "Did we lose power?"
"No," Elena typed furiously. "It's not a blackout. It's an incoming signal. Someone is overriding our firewall. They have root access!"
The screens flared to life again.
But it wasn't the lab feed anymore.
It was a face.
A mask, actually. A traditional Japanese Oni mask, painted in neon red and gold. The eyes of the mask were black camera lenses.
"Subject Zero," a distorted, synthesized voice boomed through the safehouse speakers. The Shogun.
Lucas stared at the screen. "You found us quickly."
"You are broadcasting on my frequency, little ghost," The Shogun laughed. "Did you enjoy the preview? My children are beautiful, aren't they?"
"They're abominations," Lucas said. "And I'm coming to burn them."
"Oh, I know," The Shogun purred. "I'm counting on it. You see, the incubation process requires a catalyst. High-stress energy. Resonance."
The camera pulled back.
The Shogun wasn't in the factory. He was standing on a balcony overlooking the tanks. But he wasn't alone.
Held by two massive guards, kneeling at the edge of the vat, was a woman.
She had grey hair and wore a simple nurse's uniform. She looked terrified.
Lucas froze. His heart hammered against his ribs.
"Martha," he whispered.
"Who is that?" Tank asked.
"The nurse," Lucas said, his voice shaking with a rage that threatened to shatter the room. "The one who smuggled me out of The Pit. The one who saved me."
"I found her in a retirement home in Zurich," The Shogun taunted, stroking the woman's hair with a metal gauntlet. "She speaks very highly of you, Lucas. She says you were a sweet boy."
"Let her go," Lucas growled. The blue light in his arm flared, hissing against the cooling sleeve.
[WARNING: Viral Surge Detected. Coolant Systems Stressed.]
"Come and get her," The Shogun said. "The Factory is open, Ghost. But if you aren't here in... let's say, one hour? I drop her into the tank. Let's see if the virus accepts an old woman as well as it accepts a child."
The screen cut to black.
Silence returned to the safehouse. But this time, it wasn't heavy. It was electric.
Elena looked at Lucas. She expected him to shout, to break something.
He didn't.
The HUD in Lucas's helmet turned red.
[OVERRIDE INITIATED.]
[SAFETY LIMITERS: DISABLED.]
[TARGET: THE SHOGUN.]
Lucas turned to the team. The blue eye was glowing so bright it looked like a star trapped in his skull.
"Tank," Lucas said. "Drive."