Todos los capítulos de Breed me Raw, Alpha : Capítulo 31 - Capítulo 37

Morning didn’t arrive with light. It came with noise. Sirens wailed somewhere far beyond the safe house, low and mechanical, echoing through the broken city like a warning meant for anyone still foolish enough to hope. I woke with my heart already racing, the twins restless inside me, their movements sharp and uneasy. My body knew before my mind caught up, something had shifted during the night. Damian was already on his feet. He stood near the window, shirtless, weapons strapped across his back, eyes fixed on the horizon. His posture was rigid in a way that told me everything I needed to know. This wasn’t another scouting wave. This wasn’t a random sweep. This was organized. “They found us,” I said quietly. He didn’t turn. “They found the area. Not us specifically. Yet.” Chloe moved behind him, projecting multiple feeds onto the cracked wall. Drones. Armored transports. Alpha units moving in synchronized patterns. Not rushing. Not hunting blindly. Containing. “They’re sealing sectors

They taught obedience like it was kindness. Not with whips or threats or locked doors, but with routines. With gentle voices and predictable days. With the slow erosion of choice until compliance felt like rest. The council understood something fundamental about control: people fought cages they could see, but adapted to ones that looked like care. I woke every morning to the same soft chime. Lights warmed gradually, mimicking sunrise. The air shifted temperature by half a degree, calibrated to my comfort. My schedule appeared on the wall without me asking. Wellness check. Nutrition window. Movement allowance. Rest cycle. Nothing forced. Nothing demanded. I followed it anyway. Because every deviation was noted. Because every refusal earned concern, not punishment. Concern that came with longer evaluations, closer monitoring, more people asking questions while pretending not to interrogate me. So I learned the shape of obedience. I learned how much to give and where to stop. Dr. Kovač

Observation didn’t begin with needles or restraints. It began with silence. They moved me at dawn, the hour Genesis preferred for transitions. Less resistance. Less attention. The corridors were washed in pale light, the kind that made everything look clean even when it wasn’t. I walked between two escorts who never touched me, never spoke, never looked directly at my face. To them, I was already an abstraction, Subject Vessel, Phase-B Carrier, Asset Pending Review. The observation wing was buried deeper than the living quarters. No windows. No curved walls. Everything straight, sharp, precise. This was where illusion ended and intention showed its teeth. The room they placed me in was white. Not soft white. Surgical white. A narrow bed. A transparent wall facing a control room filled with shadowed silhouettes. Machines hummed gently around me, monitoring breath, pulse, uterine activity, hormone fluctuations. They dressed it up with calming sounds and neutral scents, but my body knew

Genesis learned to speak to me in incentives. Not rewards, those implied generosity. Incentives were transactional. Conditional. They were how systems trained behavior without ever admitting they were doing it. Day seventeen of observation, they loosened my schedule. Ten extra minutes in the exercise atrium. A wider food selection. One unsupervised shower per cycle, though cameras still tracked vitals through the walls. It was subtle enough that someone less alert might mistake it for kindness. I didn’t. I catalogued every change. Logged the timing. Noted who authorized it and who pretended not to notice. Compliance yielded comfort. Resistance yielded consequences. They were building a map inside my head and hoping I wouldn’t realize I was doing the same to them. The atrium was the closest thing Genesis had to mercy. A circular room with a simulated sky projected overhead, cycling through gentle blues and soft clouds meant to regulate circadian rhythms. Plants grew along the edges, re