The lab was unusually quiet for a Tuesday.
Aria adjusted the pipette in her gloved hand, the tip hovering over a viscous drop of the RX-317 solution. Even diluted, it shimmered oddly under fluorescence—too smooth, too stable. She narrowed her eyes.
"Yusuf," she said without looking up, "how can a peptide this reactive remain stable outside cold-chain?"
Yusuf looked up from the centrifuge's display. "Good question. And one no one seems to want to answer."
Ezra let out a low whistle from across the bench. "That thing's not even listed in the central compound library," he said, slapping a folder shut. "It's like it exists and doesn't. Ever wonder why we got looped into it suddenly, no questions asked?"
"Not to mention," Meilin added, "half of the research logs are encrypted. I tried accessing the earlier records this morning. You'd think I asked for nuclear launch codes."
Yusuf raised an eyebrow. "You're not supposed to dig past Level 2 clearance."
"I wasn't digging. I was...curious." She sipped her coffee, expression unreadable.
Aria remained silent, staring at the iridescent drop. RX-317 wasn't just unusual—it was alive, in some way. Every reaction with it felt deliberate, too controlled, like someone was steering it remotely.
And yet, she was the only one allowed to handle it directly.
She noticed that again today: when she scanned her ID badge to retrieve the compound from the secure fridge, the system showed Access Granted: Override - Executive Tier. She thought it was a glitch the first time. Now she wasn't so sure.
---
Later that day, she sat in the break room, sketching chemical structures on a napkin while her tea cooled beside her.
Meilin slid into the seat across from her. "You know what's funny?"
Aria glanced up. "Your idea of 'funny' is terrifying."
"There's no research team listed for the original development of RX-317. No project manager. Just one initial on the master file: L. A. Reed."
Aria blinked. "Like... ReGenesis's founder?"
"No. Not Augustus Reed. Just L. A. Reed. Nothing else. No timestamps. Nothing traceable."
Ezra leaned in from the counter, voice low. "You think it's ghost research? Off-the-record experimentation?"
"Whatever it is," Meilin said, rising, "we're being watched."
---
That night, when Aria returned to her apartment, she opened her journal. The one with crinkled pages and invisible letters never sent.
She flipped to a blank one.
Dear Lucian,
Today I touched something that feels like it knows me back.
And I wonder... did you leave more behind in this world than just me?
Because this compound?
It doesn't just react. It responds.
She stared at the letter for a long time before folding the page gently and tucking it between the others.
Somewhere inside her, something stirred.
Not fear.
Something older.
Familiar.
And unnamed.