Chapter Forty — Someone Sends Me My Own Birth Video

The live feed showed my father bound to a chair beside Dr. Halden.

For several seconds, I forgot how to breathe.

Halden looked exhausted, bruised, and furious.

Theodore looked worse.

There was blood along one side of his face, and one sleeve of his shirt had been torn near the shoulder.

Beneath the image, the message remained.

YOU MAY SAVE ONE OF THEM.

Ronan read it over my shoulder.

His expression changed immediately.

“They want you emotional.”

“I am aware.”

“Then do not give them what they want.”

I looked at him.

“My father is tied to a chair.”

“And Halden is trying to warn you away.”

That stopped me.

I looked again at the photograph Halden had sent earlier.

O-17.

RUN.

He had managed to hide the warning.

Why?

Because the rescue itself was the objective.

The coordinates were not simply a location.

They were another controlled environment.

Another phase.

Another test.

I looked back toward the live feed.

“What if they are not there?”

Ronan’s gaze sharpened.

“You think the video is prerecorded.”

“Maybe.”

“Timestamp?”

I checked.

Live indicator.

Current time.

That proved less than it should have.

Cradle had manipulated surveillance, medical files, security systems, corporate records, and deaths.

A red LIVE symbol meant nothing.

Marcus’s voice came through the earpiece.

“I am checking the feed source.”

“How long?”

“Two minutes.”

The countdown message appeared.

27:14

I stared at it.

Ronan took my phone.

“You are not choosing between them.”

“I may have to.”

“No.”

His voice hardened.

“You are not walking into a room where they dictate which person gets to live.”

I looked at him.

“And if doing nothing kills both?”

His expression tightened.

That was the problem.

Every option was designed to feel like a decision when someone else had already written the consequences.

I turned toward the safe-site entrance.

“We go back inside.”

Ronan followed.

“Why?”

“Because I want Damian’s copy of the Cradle files.”

He understood immediately.

“You think the location may be in the old records.”

“Yes.”

Cassian looked up when we entered.

“What happened?”

I showed them the feed.

Lucian swore.

Damian’s face became unreadable.

“Theodore.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I am.”

“Why?”

“Because Cradle rarely takes someone at his level unless they want something he knows.”

I looked at the screen again.

“What could he know that they do not?”

Damian shook his head.

“Maybe the question is what he has.”

Cassian stepped closer.

“Control codes?”

“Records.”

“Access rights?”

“Maybe.”

I looked at Damian.

“The reproductive succession charter.”

His expression sharpened.

“Yes.”

Ronan turned.

“What about it?”

“If Theodore inherited Vale authority inside Cradle, then killing him may be more complicated than they are pretending.”

Lucian frowned.

“He may still control part of the network.”

My pulse changed.

“So the choice is fake.”

“Possibly.”

Marcus came through the earpiece.

“I have the source.”

Everyone went quiet.

“Where?”

“Not the coordinates they sent.”

I almost smiled.

Of course.

“Where is the feed coming from?”

“An old medical archive outside Vale Tower.”

Damian’s face changed.

“What archive?”

Marcus sent the address.

Lucian looked at it.

Then went pale.

“No.”

I turned.

“You know it.”

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

He stared at the screen.

“The original Cradle intake facility.”

Silence.

Ronan’s expression hardened.

“They want Adrian to go to the wrong place while Theodore and Halden are somewhere else.”

“Or they want us split,” Cassian said.

I looked at Marcus.

“Can you verify they are physically at the intake facility?”

“Not yet.”

“Do it.”

The countdown dropped below twenty-five minutes.

Then something changed on the live feed.

Halden looked toward the camera.

Theodore did too.

A door opened beyond them.

No one entered the frame.

Instead, a projector came on behind their chairs.

A hospital video filled the wall.

My heart stopped.

I recognized the room before I understood why.

The photograph my father had shown me.

The incubator.

The same hospital.

My birth.

Theodore turned toward the projection.

Even bound to the chair, he looked terrified.

Ronan noticed.

“That is not for them.”

“No.”

My phone vibrated.

One new message.

SINCE O-17 WILL NOT COME TO US, WE WILL BRING HIS BEGINNING TO HIM.

The live feed changed.

The projector footage enlarged.

A woman lay in a hospital bed.

My mother.

Younger.

Exhausted.

A doctor stood beside her.

Daniel Kerr.

My pulse stopped.

Then the camera angle shifted.

Someone carried a newborn into view.

Tiny.

Wrapped in white.

Me.

I had never seen footage of my birth.

I had never even known footage existed.

Theodore struggled against the restraints.

“Turn it off.”

There was no audio from the room at first.

Then sound came through.

Old.

Grainy.

But clear enough.

Daniel Kerr spoke.

“Designation confirmed.”

Someone behind the camera asked,

“Alpha?”

Kerr looked down at the infant.

“No.”

Silence.

Then:

“Omega.”

My chest tightened.

My mother started crying.

Theodore stood near the bed.

Younger.

Angry.

“What happens now?”

Kerr’s expression changed.

“We continue.”

My pulse slowed.

Continue what?

The camera moved.

Another man entered the room.

Tall.

Dark-haired.

Ashcroft features.

Ronan went completely still beside me.

“That is my father.”

The same man from the old photograph.

He walked toward the newborn.

Not surprised.

Not confused.

He knew exactly why he was there.

My stomach turned.

Then a woman’s voice came from off-camera.

“No.”

Everyone in the safe site froze.

The camera shifted again.

Helena.

Younger.

Alive.

She stepped into the room.

My mother stared at her.

Theodore looked furious.

“What are you doing here?”

Helena ignored him.

She walked straight toward Kerr.

“You said the second line would not be activated.”

Kerr lowered his voice.

“I did not authorize this.”

My blood went cold.

Ronan looked at me.

Daniel had not started the program.

At least, not this part.

Theodore said,

“We needed an heir.”

Helena turned on him.

“You needed control.”

My mother whispered,

“Please.”

Helena looked at her.

“You knew what they did to Lucian.”

My chest tightened.

The first child.

My brother.

The room on the old video suddenly felt like the center of every lie I had ever been told.

Then Ronan’s father spoke.

“The child is viable.”

Helena’s face filled with disgust.

“He is a baby.”

“He is the continuation.”

Kerr stepped between them.

“That is enough.”

Theodore looked at him.

“Change the records.”

Kerr’s expression hardened.

“No.”

My father stepped closer.

“You will record him as Alpha.”

“No.”

“You will.”

Theodore’s voice was cold.

“Or everything we built collapses.”

My mother started crying harder.

I watched my own father threaten a physician over my designation before I had been alive for ten minutes.

Then Helena said something that changed the entire room.

“You are all arguing over the wrong child.”

Silence.

Kerr looked at her.

“What?”

Helena stared at me.

At the newborn.

Then at Theodore.

“That baby was never supposed to be O-17.”

My pulse stopped.

Damian whispered, “What?”

The old video continued.

Theodore’s face changed.

“What are you talking about?”

Helena stepped closer to the incubator.

“There was another embryo.”

Nobody moved.

My mother stared at her.

“No.”

Helena looked at her sister.

“Yes.”

Kerr went pale.

“The reserve?”

Helena nodded.

“The reserve survived.”

My blood turned cold.

Ronan’s hand tightened around mine.

Theodore’s younger self whispered,

“Where?”

Helena looked toward someone behind the camera.

And smiled sadly.

“With the only person Cradle never thought to watch.”

The footage cut to black.

I stared at the screen.

Everyone was silent.

Then my phone vibrated.

One final message.

ADRIAN VALE, YOU WERE NOT THE ONLY O-17.

My stomach dropped.

Another line appeared.

THE ORIGINAL IS STILL ALIVE.

And beneath it:

HE HAS BEEN WATCHING YOU SINCE THE NIGHT YOU WERE BORN.