The air inside the ventilation shaft was stifling.
Dust coated Elias Thorne's palms as he crawled forward, shoulders tight against the steel walls. Each movement was deliberate, silent.
Behind him, the low hum of the facility's inner workings pulsed like a mechanical heartbeat.
Every inch forward brought him closer—to danger, to freedom, to reckoning.
---
Hours had passed since the young guard, Chambers, slipped him the keycard and a warning. Since then, Elias had studied every detail of the floor plan he had memorized, triangulated patrol patterns, and timed the rotations of automated cameras.
Midnight. Hall 9. Service duct. Don't trust the medtechs.
He hadn't forgotten a word.
Grimm and Ash were still out there—alive, fierce, waiting.
And now, the plan had begun.
---
The shaft opened into a maintenance corridor dimly lit by pulsing yellow emergency lights.
Elias waited.
Breathing shallow.
Listening.
Voices echoed from the far end—two guards chatting about shift changes and ration shortages.
He counted three steps after their voices faded, then moved.
Silent. Swift.
A door ahead bore the words:
KENNEL ACCESS — LEVEL B.
A hiss.
The keycard worked.
---
The smell of antiseptic and blood hit him first.
Then the growls.
Muted, heavy.
He stepped into a narrow hallway of cages.
And there they were.
Grimm. Ash.
Their ears shot up.
Their bodies tensed, pressing against the metal bars.
Elias reached them, squatting low.
— "Easy. I'm here now."
Ash whimpered softly. Grimm stared, unmoving, as if trying to believe.
Elias found the release mechanism—old, analog, simple. With a snap and twist, the door clicked.
Grimm burst through first, licking Elias's face once before snapping his head toward the hallway—instinct ready to defend.
Ash followed, pressing close to his side.
Reunited.
For the first time in days, something almost like peace stirred in Elias's chest.
---
Then came the alarm.
A klaxon.
High-pitched. Metallic.
Containment breach detected.
Of course.
The cameras had picked up movement. Or someone had noticed the unlocked kennel gate.
Either way, the window was closing.
Fast.
---
Footsteps thundered down the corridor outside.
Elias scanned the room.
One access door, no exits.
He spotted a fire suppression panel.
Behind it—a small oxygen feed line.
He took the wire from his sleeve, bit one end, and sparked it against the exposed feed.
A hiss.
Then flame.
The system triggered instantly—flooding the hallway with suppressant gas, blanketing the sensors.
In the smoke, Elias and the dogs slipped out the back door, moving unseen past two coughing guards.
---
He entered a lower-level hallway labeled Cryo Research.
The temperature dropped rapidly.
Frost clung to vents.
And ahead—rows of capsules.
Not just one. Dozens.
Inside: humans.
Some awake.
Some twitching.
Others still in stasis.
And one—familiar.
Isaac Moreau.
Elias stared through the frosted glass.
Eyes open. Watching.
Isaac's lips moved.
One word:
— "Run."
Elias turned—
Just as a heavy security door slammed shut behind him.
---
Three guards entered from the opposite side.
— "Thorne! Step back from the pods!"
He raised his hands, slowly.
The guards fanned out.
One moved to flank, the others drawing stun batons.
Grimm growled. Ash bared his teeth.
Elias watched their feet. Their posture. The weight in their balance.
They were fast.
But not him-fast.
---
He acted.
Grimm lunged left. Ash to the right.
Elias pivoted, grabbing the nearest guard's arm, twisting it and driving the elbow into his throat.
A baton clattered.
Ash brought one man down hard. Grimm locked onto the third's leg.
In ten seconds, it was over.
Three bodies. One groaning.
No bullets fired.
Clean.
Efficient.
---
Elias grabbed a radio.
Static.
Then a voice.
— "Level B breach confirmed. Asset Thorne loose. Full lockdown—engage all sectors."
He smashed the device.
Looked back at Isaac's pod.
Still watching.
Still mouthing the word.
Run.
---
But Elias wasn't running.
Not yet.
He crossed into the next corridor.
Past another row of pods.
These were... different.
Smaller.
Children.
Their faces pale, tubes down their throats.
Experiments in early development.
Copying the formula.
Creating more.
His jaw tightened.
He opened a valve.
Then another.
Gas hissed into the room.
He sparked the wire again.
Nothing exploded—but the cooling system shut down.
Let them wake.
Let the world see.
---
Ahead: a steel door labeled BIO-LAB CORE.
Locked.
He used Chambers' card.
It worked.
Inside—machines, tanks, living tissue suspended in gel.
Monitors blinked with data:
Subject E-009. Rapid degeneration. Solution unstable.
One name returned across every screen:
THORNE.
They were trying to replicate him.
And failing.
And still trying.
---
A hiss from the far wall.
A figure stepped out from a darkened alcove.
Lab coat. Dark hair.
Voss.
He held a pistol loosely in one hand.
— "I knew you'd come here."
Elias said nothing.
— "You saw them, didn't you? The children. The clones. The failures."
Voss stepped closer.
— "You see why you're special now. Why we need you. Why the world needs you."
Elias clenched his fists.
— "You're not saving the world. You're playing god with dead pieces of it."
— "Then be god with us."
— "No."
Elias stepped forward.
— "You think this place is your fortress. But it's a tomb. And you're locking yourself in."
Voss lifted the pistol.
Grimm growled.
Ash braced.
— "I'll give you one last chance, Elias."
Elias's eyes went cold.
— "You already had it."
---
The lights cut out.
The emergency system buzzed.
Elias moved.
Grimm leapt.
Ash charged.
A shot fired—missed.
Voss vanished into darkness.
---
Alarms screamed.
Doors sealed.
But Elias and the dogs were gone—moving through the blackened maze of failure, fire, and fury.