Dr Thorn Percy Jackson Novels & Stories

The hallowed halls of St. Jude's University were lined with ancient oak and the stifling scent of dust and tradition, but in Lecture Hall 4, the atmosphere was different. It was electric, charged with a tension that made the skin of twenty-one-year-old Elara Vance prickle every time Professor Gabriel Thorne spoke. Thorne was a legend in the architecture department-not just for his brilliance, but for a cold, aristocratic detachment that seemed to challenge every student who dared to look him in the eye.

Mrs. Chen appeared in the open doorway of the study. "Dr. Park is here, Mrs. Thorne," she said. "Please send him in," Elara replied. A man walked into the study, appearing to be in his late forties with neat black hair showing distinct graying at the temples. He wore a dark tailored suit without a tie and carried a heavy leather briefcase in his left hand, projecting an air of quiet, academic authority. "Dr. Vance," he said. "I am Dr. James Park. I am the Chief Science Officer at Thorne International."

The foundation's paperwork was im⁠peccable, its source untraceabl‌e to Sterling⁠ Hold‍ings. Kaelan Kaelan sat ac‌ross from Dr. Aris Thor‌ne (no relation), a ren⁠owned psy⁠ch‍ologist who specialized in w⁠or‌king with h‌igh-pr⁠ofile in‌divid‍uals who h‌ad‍, i‍n her w‍o‍rds, "forgott‌en how to be human." The‌ offi‌c‍e w‌as calm, fi‍lled with soft light and books, a uni‍verse‍ away from his corpo‍rate world.

"Arthur didn't have one son. He had two. And I’ve been waiting twenty years for my turn at the throne." The priest-like figure stepped into the light, revealing a face that was a mirror image of Xander’s, but scarred by decades of exile. As the GRC fell from the sky, a new, older Thorne had arrived to claim the wreckage—and he wasn't looking for money. He was looking for the child.

King Darius: ~~~ “Something is amiss with her,” my lycan, Thorne, says as we look at Alpha Caroline crying. “I don't think she's acting,” he adds, and I put my hand inside my pocket, fisting tightly as I waited for the elevator doors to close. However, before it closes, I see her open her mouth, as if what she's about to say is important, but the damn door slid closed before I could get a word.

"Has the Architect finally come to collect the debt?" Panni stepped forward, the silver silk of her ruined dress catching the dim light. "The Architect is dead, Dr. Thorne. I am Panni Panni. And I believe you have something that belongs to me." Thorne’s hands began to shake. He looked at Panni, then at the man standing behind her—the man with the face of Jinyan Lu but the soul of a ghost. "The girl..." Thorne whispered. "The one we sent to the mountains... the pure one."

A clinical, data-driven answer. But that felt like another betrayal. Going to the scientist instead of to my partner. Even if my partner had gone to ground. I was about to turn away when the main door of the building opened. A man walked out, pulling on a coat. It was Dr. Thorne. He was with someone—a younger man, tall, with a kind, open face and messy brown hair. They were talking, smiling about something. The younger man laughed, a warm, easy sound that carried across the quiet street.

They were mindless, pain-free berserkers. And leading them was a hologram projected from a drone. Dr. Thorne. His face was indeed half-crystallized, just like in Sebastian's vision. "You can't stop evolution, Mr. Sterling," Thorne’s digital voice boomed. "Tear them apart." The Hollows charged. "Jack! Braun! Hold them back!" Sebastian yelled. "Harper! Activate the machine!" Jack opened fire with his shotgun. BOOM. CLICK-CLACK. BOOM. The slugs hit the Hollows, blowing holes in their chests. But they didn't stop. They didn't bleed. They just kept coming.