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Chapter 91 - Part 90

The control room was a sterile nightmare. White walls, buzzing monitors, and a sense of cold, mechanical precision that made my skin crawl. But it wasn't the room that set my teeth on edge—it was the presence in the air, the realization that we had reached the heart of Zenith's operations. This was it. The final moment.

I stepped through the door, Alan and Mara close behind me. My eyes immediately locked onto the man standing at the far end of the room. He was tall, with sharp features and cold, calculating eyes. Alaric Voss. He wasn't surprised to see us—he had been expecting us.

"Psychobi," he said, his voice smooth and detached, as though he had all the time in the world. "I've been waiting for you."

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, the hunger inside me rising to a fever pitch. His calmness was infuriating, as though this was just another game to him. But this wasn't a game anymore. This was personal.

"You've been waiting for me?" I sneered. "You must be the one who's been pulling all the strings. The one who thought they could control me."

Voss didn't flinch. "Control you? No, Psychobi. I've merely been... observing. You're more interesting than I thought. The perfect experiment."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. The perfect experiment. That's how they had seen me. Another test subject, another pawn to manipulate. But I wasn't their puppet anymore. Not now. Not ever again.

"You've done more than observe," I said through gritted teeth, my hands trembling with barely contained rage. "You've created a monster."

Voss stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and disdain. "A monster? No. You've always been this way, Psychobi. You just needed the right... encouragement."

I clenched my fists, my knuckles turning white. The hunger was roaring inside me now, demanding to be fed. The desire to rip through Voss and everything he represented burned within me, but I knew I couldn't let it consume me—not yet. I had to play this right.

"You think you know me?" I asked, my voice low, dangerous. "You think you've figured me out? You've just been feeding the fire, making it burn hotter."

Voss smiled, a cold, cruel grin. "It was never about you, Psychobi. You were just a means to an end. A piece in a much larger game. You're nothing more than a tool."

"Then why are you still here?" I shot back, stepping forward, the intensity in my gaze unrelenting. "Why not just let me finish it? If I'm nothing, then you shouldn't be worried."

Voss's smile faltered for a brief moment, but only briefly. He was calculating. Every move was a careful decision, every word a tactic. He was trying to read me, trying to understand just how far I was willing to go. And in that moment, I realized something.

I was the one in control.

"You're scared," I whispered, barely audible, but the words landed with the force of a blow. "You're scared of what I'll become."

Voss's eyes flickered with something close to recognition. Fear. He hadn't expected this. He hadn't expected me to be more than just a twisted reflection of the things they had created. He hadn't expected me to turn the tables.

"You think you've won?" he said, trying to regain his composure. "You don't understand the game you're playing, Psychobi. This isn't just about power or control. It's about survival. And the ones who survive are the ones who adapt."

"Then let me adapt," I growled, my hands shaking with the intensity of what was to come. "Because I'm not playing by your rules anymore."

Before Voss could react, I lunged. The hunger inside me exploded—raw, untamed, a force of pure instinct. I grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against one of the monitors. The glass cracked, sparks flying from the electrical components, but I barely noticed. My mind was consumed with one thing: making him feel what I had felt. All the manipulation, all the pain, all the time they had spent making me into their puppet—I was going to make him pay.

Alan and Mara didn't move at first. They were standing by the door, watching, waiting for the right moment. They knew what I had to do. They knew I couldn't stop until it was finished.

Voss struggled beneath me, his hands clawing at mine, but I tightened my grip. "You don't get to decide what happens to me," I spat, my voice dripping with venom. "You never did."

The air between us crackled with tension, but as I looked into his eyes, I saw something break. His confidence—his carefully crafted composure—began to unravel. He wasn't the untouchable mastermind anymore. He was just a man, trapped in the web of his own making.

"You think you're different?" Voss gasped, his breath ragged. "You think you're better than me? You're just like everyone else—weak. You're just a reflection of all the things that made you."

I smiled, the hunger now taking over completely. "I'm better than you. Because I've learned how to control it. And now it's time to let go."

With one final, vicious motion, I drove my knee into his gut, forcing him to crumple to the ground. He gasped for air, but I didn't care. The satisfaction of seeing him brought low was enough to satisfy the gnawing hunger, if only for a moment.

But this was far from over.

I stood over him, my chest heaving, the flames of rage still burning inside me. "This is the end of your game, Voss. You're finished."

Alan and Mara stepped forward now, but I barely acknowledged them. This was my moment. The final act in a play I had been rehearsing my entire life.

..............

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