1 week later:
Rain fell steadily against the concrete—thin, but relentless—coating the city in a glossy sheen that warped the lights and softened every edge. From a distance, the facility looked like nothing more than another forgotten building among abandoned industrial structures.
Up close… it was something else.
Too clean.
Too intact.
The vehicle came to a stop a few meters from the main entrance. The engine fell silent, but inside, no one moved right away.
Enzo kept his eyes fixed on the tablet, reviewing one last time the map he had reconstructed from the stolen data.
—Three visible levels —he murmured—. Five underground confirmed. Security is spread out, but heavier from the fourth level onward.
He zoomed in on a section.
—This is where public records disappear.
Silyan watched the screen without commenting. Dante, on the other hand, was already looking toward the building, as if he could see through the concrete.
Ikar wasn't looking at anything in particular. A subtle pressure… impossible to ignore.
As if something inside that place was waiting for him.
—It's there —he said finally.
It wasn't a guess.
Access was easier than expected.
The barrier opened after scanning the stolen credentials, and a guard approached with the automatic routine of someone who had repeated the same gesture hundreds of times.
White light.
Scanners.
Measured silence.
Enzo handed over the ID without hesitation. The man slid it through the reader, watching the screen with only surface-level attention.
The system took a second longer than usual.
Then another.
Ikar noticed from where he stood with Dante.
Silyan did too.
Enzo didn't look up… but his fingers were already moving, hidden inside his pocket. Being close to the system made it easier to secure entry.
A minimal adjustment.
A line corrected at the exact right moment.
The reader gave the correct sound.
—Go ahead.
The barrier opened.
And just like that, they were inside.
The interior had nothing military about it.
It was worse.
Wide corridors, flawless white surfaces, and uniform lighting that erased any unnecessary shadow. Everything was designed to be observed… and at the same time, for nothing to stand out.
No windows.
No external references.
Only depth.
People moved from one side to another with precise motions, speaking only when necessary. No one ran.
—Keep the pace —Dante said quietly through the communicator each of them carried—. If you hesitate, they'll notice.
Ikar walked a few steps ahead. Not out of impulse, but direction. Every turn he took seemed intuitive… but it wasn't. Something was guiding him.
A feeling that grew clearer the deeper they went.
The elevator carried them down with an almost unnatural smoothness.
The numbers changed in silence.
-1.
-2.
-3.
The air began to feel different.
Colder.
Heavier.
When the doors opened on the fourth underground level, the change was obvious without a word.
The corridor was narrower.
The lights harsher.
And the silence… denser.
Cells lined both sides. Not all of them were occupied. Reinforced glass. Containment systems. Monitors displaying biometric data scrolling continuously.
Inside… people.
Some conscious.
Some barely.
Some clearly altered beyond anything human.
Ikar slowed down without realizing it.
A figure on the other side of the glass slowly lifted their head.
Their eyes locked onto him.
Empty.
But present.
For a moment, the rest of the world disappeared.
—Keep moving —Enzo said without looking at him.
Ikar moved again.
—Restricted zone ahead —Enzo warned as he stopped in front of a sealed door—. This is where it gets interesting.
The panel required double validation.
Code and biometrics.
Silyan crossed his arms and spoke through the communicator.
—How long?
—Depends on how much you want me to pretend this is easy.
—It isn't —Dante replied.
Enzo gave a faint smile.
—Then three seconds.
His fingers moved with surgical precision. Within the system, temporary accesses were created and erased in milliseconds, as if they had always been there.
The panel changed color.
Green.
The door opened.
The interior was different.
More technical.
Screens displaying real-time data. Equipment connected through a perfectly organized network of cables. No chaos. No improvisation.
Everything had a purpose.
And at the center of that purpose…
Her.
Hera was suspended inside a containment chamber.
Cables connected to her body.
Sensors are placed with precision.
Her breathing was stable.
Artificially stable.
Ikar approached without stopping, while Enzo scanned every part of the room, visibly struck by the level of technology—especially the chamber itself. It was unlike anything he had ever seen.
—Hera…
The word barely came out.
Silyan said nothing. He could see everything through a tiny camera embedded in each suit.
But his posture changed completely.
From alert… to ready to tear everything apart.
Enzo studied the data in silence.
—They're not hurting her —he said finally—. But this…
He hesitated.
—I've never seen anything like this. This is pure science—exact data on her abilities… It's like they're trying to turn her into a weapon.
Dante observed the monitors through the feed.
—They're keeping her active for something.
Ikar didn't look away.
—We take her out.
—Not like this —Enzo replied immediately—. If you disconnect her without stabilizing the system, you'll kill her.
—Then do it right —Silyan said.
Enzo swallowed.
—I need time. This is… actually complicated. I've never seen technology like this. There are symbols I've never seen before.
The rain hadn't changed.
It kept falling with the same steady rhythm—fine, almost silent—forming small streams across the concrete around the vehicle parked a few meters from the facility.
From inside, the world felt distant.
Silyan kept his eyes on the portable radar resting on the dashboard. The lines moved normally, without variation. His abilities weren't as effective in the rain—it made tracking movement far more difficult.
Everything was still in order.
Dante, slightly reclined in his seat, watched the main entrance without moving much.
—Still clear —Silyan murmured, his gaze briefly shifting to the screen where Enzo and Ikar's progress was visible.
Dante didn't respond right away.
Something didn't sit right. Not a concrete detail—just a persistent feeling. Something out of rhythm.
Then a sharp knock against the car's frame made both of them react instantly.
They turned at the same time.
A man was already standing by the window.
They hadn't seen him approach.
Dark uniform. Straight posture. Fixed gaze.
—Credentials.
It didn't sound aggressive.
But it wasn't friendly either.
Dante lowered the window just enough.
—Technical support shift —he replied without hesitation—. Assigned to external surveillance.
The soldier didn't react.
He extended his hand.
—Credentials.
Silyan already had them ready. He handed them over without a word.
The man took them and examined them more closely than necessary. His eyes lingered on every detail, as if searching for a specific inconsistency.
Too long.
Dante rested his arm casually near the side panel. His fingers found the button without looking.
Small. Blue.
He pressed it.
No sound. No visible signal.
But the message was already on its way.
The soldier looked up.
—Who authorized this assignment?
Dante held his gaze.
—Internal control. We were sent an hour ago.
The man watched him for another second, evaluating not just the answer—but how it was given.
—That's what I'm trying to determine —he finally said.
Then he stepped back.
—Step out of the vehicle.
The silence that followed was brief—but enough.
Dante exchanged a quick glance with Silyan.
Nothing more.
They both opened their doors.
The rain hit harder as they stepped out. The concrete felt cold beneath their boots.
—Hands visible —the soldier instructed.
Silyan complied without tension. Dante did the same.
The man circled the vehicle calmly, observing every detail. His movements were too precise to be routine.
Dante noticed.
So did Silyan.
—Is there a problem? —Dante asked, keeping his tone neutral.
The soldier didn't respond immediately. He stopped near the rear of the vehicle, inspecting a panel seam as if expecting to find something there.
A different sound broke the moment.
Footsteps.
Firm. Unhidden.
Both of them looked up at the same time.
The man stepped out from the curtain of rain without rushing.
He wore a matte orange suit, tightly fitted, with reinforced joints and yellow lines running across the torso like circuits, pulsing with a faint glow.
He stopped in front of the vehicle.
Without a word, he placed a glowing rod on the hood.
The yellow light reflected off the wet surface, trembling slightly with the steady fall of rain.
He looked at Dante and Silyan with a calm that wasn't accidental.
—You're not from here.
It wasn't a question.
Dante held his gaze.
—Temporary assignment.
The man tilted his head slightly, evaluating the response more out of interest than doubt.
—Of course.
A brief pause.
—You'll have to come with us.
Silyan didn't move.
—Reason?
A faint smile appeared on the man's face.
—Precaution.
The soldier beside the vehicle tensed slightly. He wasn't in charge—when people like this showed up, soldiers became secondary.
The rain kept falling. Steady. Constant. Marking time without interruption.
Another movement on the other side of the vehicle—silent, precise.
A figure appeared without warning.
Metallic.
Controlled.
Watching.
Dante didn't fully turn his head.
He didn't need to.
He already knew something else had arrived.
And the margin for error…
had just dropped to almost nothing.
—Took you long enough, robot.
—It took time to disable their security system. They've got someone highly skilled on their side—that complicates the mission. We need to warn the others. Keep an eye on them, Rex Splode.