MasukEven after I ran, even after the city disappeared behind me, I could still feel deep under my skin, like something ancient had woken up and was stretching its limbs for the first time in centuries. I didn’t know where I was going. I just knew I couldn’t stay. Branches clawed at my arms as I pushed through the forest, my breath uneven, heart slamming against my ribs like it was trying to escape. The air smelled wrotten thick, metallic, like rain mixed with ash. Like ruin. I stumbled to a stop when the trees thinned, collapsing against a rough trunk. My hands were shaking. Not from fear. From it. The power. It hadn’t left me. If anything, it had grown stronger. I clenched my fingers, trying to steady them, but a faint glow pulsed beneath my skin dark and flickering, like embers refusing to die. I sucked in a sharp breath and pressed my palm against my chest. “Stop…” I whispered. But it didn’t listen. A crack split the earth a few feet away. I froze. It starte
I don’t trust the silence. Not the kind that settles after something violent. Not the kind that follows too neatly, like everything is already being cleaned up behind the scenes. We leave the hospital before anyone tells us we can. Or maybe we’re allowed to. That thought sits in the back of my mind the entire time. Allowed. Escorted out by confusion. By distraction. By people who don’t realize they’re being used as cover. The air outside hits differently cooler, sharper. The city is still alive, still loud in the distance, like nothing inside that building mattered. Like it never happened. Roman leans more weight on me than he’ll admit as we move toward the car. His steps are slow, uneven, but he refuses help from anyone else. Typical. “You’re bleeding through the bandages again,” I mutter. “I’ve had worse days.” “You’ve also had better ones.” He lets out a quiet breath that almost sounds like a laugh. “Debatable.” My father is already ahead of us, scanning, watching ev
The lights don’t come back all at once. They flicker. Struggle. Like the building itself isn’t sure it wants to stay alive. I don’t move from the doorway. Not yet. The body at my feet is still warm. I can feel it through the thin soles of my shoes, a faint reminder of how close everything still is. My grip on the blade hasn’t loosened either. I tell myself to relax but I don’t. Not when the hallway outside is too quiet. Not when I know they’re still out there. Waiting. Listening. Adapting. Behind me, Roman exhales sharply. It turns into a quiet groan he tries and fails to hide. I glance back. He’s gripping the edge of the bed, knuckles pale, jaw tight. The machines around him have stabilized, but barely. The steady rhythm from earlier is gone, replaced by something uneven. Fragile. “You shouldn’t be sitting up,” I say. He huffs, breath catching halfway through. “You keep saying that like it’s going to start working.” “This isn’t a joke.” “Didn’t say it was.” But the
The lights flicker once. Then again. And then everything goes black. For a second, just one. The world feels like it stops breathing. No machines. No city glow through the window. No quiet hum of life holding everything together. Just silence. Then the machines start choking. A broken beep cuts through the dark, sharp and wrong. It stutters, flatlines, then struggles back like it’s fighting to stay alive. My body moves before I even think. My hand goes straight to my side, fingers wrapping around the blade hidden beneath my clothes. Familiar. Steady. Real. I turn to Roman. His monitor is spiking, then dropping, then barely holding. His chest rises, shallow, uneven. “Stay with me,” I say, already moving closer. “I’m not going anywhere,” he mutters. He sounds like he believes it. I don’t. Footsteps echo outside. Not loud. Not rushed. Controlled. I freeze. My father’s voice cuts through the dark behind me. “That’s not hospital staff.” I already know. There’s another
Chapter Twenty Three: Secrets Unearthed The study was cloaked in shadows, the dim glow of a single desk lamp casting long, flickering shapes on the walls. Dust motes floated lazily in the stale air, as if time itself had paused within these walls. Eden sat rigidly in the cracked leather chair, a heavy folder resting on her lap. The pages inside were yellowed and brittle, covered in typed reports, photographs, and handwritten notes — evidence of a life she had never known, a past her father had tried to bury. Her father stood quietly by the window, staring out at the gathering storm. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a fitting soundtrack to the storm inside Eden’s mind. She finally broke the silence. “Dad... I need to know everything. No more half-truths.” He sighed deeply and lowered himself into the chair beside her, his eyes tired but steady. “You deserve to know, Eden. It’s time.” He pulled the folder closer and began to speak, his voice low but deliberate. “Before you were b
Chapter Twenty Two: Aftermath and Reckoning The mountain lay shattered beneath a sky heavy with smoke and ash, a jagged wound where the Caldera complex once stood. The air hung thick and choking, bitter with the scent of burning metal and earth torn open. Eden’s lungs burned as she sucked in every ragged breath, her body trembling—not just from exhaustion, but from the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. Beside her, Roman crouched on the rocky ground, brushing soot from his hair, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon as if expecting an enemy to rise from the ruins at any moment. The quiet between them was heavy, charged with the unspoken weight of survival and loss. “We did what we could,” Roman finally said, voice low and steady despite the chaos that still surrounded them. Eden nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on the smoldering crater below. “Yeah. But she’s still out there.” The words hung in the smoky air, a bitter reminder of Valeska’s escape. The woman who had orchestr
Chapter Seventeen: What Lurks in the SmokeThe night after the mountain burned was too still.Eden sat cross-legged near the wreckage, the faint orange glow of the ruined compound casting eerie shadows against the snow-dusted forest. The survivors they’d pulled from the labs—six in total—lay inside
Chapter Sixteen: Into the BlackThe Carpathians greeted them with a silence so complete it felt unnatural—like the trees themselves were holding their breath.Eden stood at the edge of the cliffside trail, wind biting at her face as the early evening sun dipped below the horizon, staining the sky i
Chapter Fifteen: Bloodlines and BargainsSilence hovered inside the private jet like a second atmosphere—thick, heavy, and impossible to ignore. Eden sat alone at the back, fingers wrapped around the single salvaged vial, her mind replaying Alina Dormer’s face over and over like a broken reel.Vale
Chapter Fourteen: The Widow's WebThe safehouse in Prague was a ghost of a place—cold walls, flickering lights, and windows that had long since forgotten the sun. Eden sat at the corner table with her knees drawn up, poring over Kessler’s printed files. Roman paced the room like a caged wolf, check







