Chapter 50
2146words
Alton Facility | Inner Sanctum
The chamber was colder than the rest of the facility—silent, sterile, still.
In the center stood a cylindrical pod, its glass slightly frosted over. A soft hum filled the air. Nothing moved inside.
Kristina stepped forward. She already knew what was in there. They all did.
But now they were seeing it. Not a file. Not a theory. The result.
She wiped the glass with her sleeve.
Inside, suspended in pale blue fluid, was a sac — translucent, barely formed, no limbs, no face. Just a cluster of tissue wrapped in membrane. A pulse of faint light flickered from within it. Almost like a heartbeat. Almost.
Ash whispered, “That’s it?”
Vex leaned forward, expression unreadable. “Looks like a glitch in a womb.”
No one laughed.
Kristina didn’t speak. She didn’t blink.
She leaned closer.
The flickering inside the sac seemed to… adjust. Shift. The rhythm stuttered, then aligned. And for a breathless second—it pulsed in time with her.
Lucian stepped forward, tense. “Did it just—?”
Eli frowned. “That wasn’t in the files.”
Sebastian stared at the readings on the side panel. “It wasn’t doing that earlier.”
Kristina didn’t move. Her voice, when it came, was quiet.
“It’s not alive. Not like us.”
“But it responded to you,” Lucian said.
“Maybe it remembers,” she murmured. “Somehow.”
“Remembers what?” Eli asked.
Kristina took a step back, her eyes never leaving the pod. “Me.”
Silence fell.
No alarms. No sudden threats. Just the cold hum of a pod containing something that shouldn’t have existed. Something built from her, but not of her. A failed ambition suspended in time.
And still—it pulsed.
The others exchanged looks, uncertain. No one moved.
Then Kristina turned away from the pod. “Let’s end this.”
They moved quickly through the ruined hallway, boots crunching over debris, the memory of what they'd just seen still clinging to them like static.
No one spoke.
Then came the sound—boots, rapid and closing in.
Vex spun around first. “We’ve got company—lots of it.”
Before they could regroup, shadows poured into the corridor from both ends. Dozens of men in dark combat gear swarmed toward them like a closing jaw.
“Move!” Kristina shouted, firing clean shots. The corridor erupted with gunfire.
Lucian covered Kristina’s flank, Eli just behind him. Ash and Sebastian took point, clearing the left while Vex swept the right with mechanical precision.
Then it broke down—too many, too fast. They were being herded.
Kristina dropped her empty magazine, slamming another in. A soldier lunged—she caught his arm mid-swing, broke it at the elbow, and spun his own blade back into his neck.
She didn’t hesitate. Her movements had changed. Sharper. Deadlier. She wasn't just fighting to win—she was fighting to end it.
Eli caught it too. “She’s not holding back anymore…”
Behind them, Lucian fired at another figure charging in from the shadows. “She’s not supposed to.”
Then it happened—a sharp grunt, Lucian’s weapon slipping from his hand.
Kristina turned.
A man had Lucian in a chokehold from behind, one arm across his throat, gun pressed against his temple. Lucian struggled, but the assailant was stronger.
Everything froze.
“DROP IT!” the man barked. “ALL OF YOU!”
Kristina froze mid-step.
The room quieted—Ash lowered his rifle, Vex stopped mid-reload. Even Sebastian held still, blade drawn but unmoving.
The man holding Lucian tightened his grip. “One more move and he dies.”
Kristina’s gun lowered.
Her jaw clenched.
And something inside her broke.
She didn’t scream. She didn’t move.
But her eyes… they changed.
The silence clung to the walls like smoke—thick, smothering.
The man holding Lucian didn’t flinch, his grip steady.
Then a slow clap echoed from the far end of the corridor.
Footsteps followed.
Deliberate. Calm. Confident.
From behind the man choking Lucian, a figure emerged—tall, older, dressed in a dark coat and calm as if he were walking into a boardroom instead of a battlefield.
Alistair Miller.
He offered Kristina a thin smile, polished and venomous.
“Welcome home, Kristina.”
Her expression hardened, not an inch of warmth in her voice.
“This is not my home.”
Miller chuckled—a slow, indulgent sound.
“No, I suppose it never felt like one. But you came anyway. Just like I knew you would.”
He took a step closer, eyes sweeping across the room—at the others, still frozen, weapons lowered but not forgotten.
“You thought breaking in here would end it?” he said. “But all you did was ignite it. You being here—your DNA, your presence—it accelerated the process. That sac?” He gestured casually toward the sealed lab behind them. “It stirred because of you. Your body recognized it, like a long-lost sibling. You didn’t shut it down, Kristina. You woke it up.”
Her chest rose and fell, slow and steady.
Lucian made a sound in his throat, struggling, but the man’s grip only tightened.
Alistair's eyes flicked back to Kristina. “You need to come with me now. Finish what your parents—unconsciously, obliviously—started. Don’t you see? This is about building a future. A better one.”
He smiled, a predator's grin.
“You’re the key, Kristina. You always were.”
She didn’t blink.
“You wish.”
Miller’s face went cold.
He pulled a sleek black pistol from his coat, almost casually, and leveled it directly at Lucian’s head.
“Then let me be clear.” His voice dropped an octave. “You either come with me… or he dies.”
The weight of that moment cracked through the room like a lightning strike.
Kristina’s gaze locked with Lucian’s—fear in his eyes, but also something steady beneath it.
Then she turned back to Miller.
Her jaw set.
Without a second thought, Kristina dropped her gun.
It clattered against the floor with a sharp metallic thud that echoed far too loud in the silent room.
“Kristina, no—” Lucian’s voice cracked behind the chokehold. He tried to jerk free, but the gun at his temple only pressed harder. Blood dripped down from a cut above his brow.
“What are you doing?” Eli’s voice was low, breathless. He stepped forward instinctively—but Kristina raised one hand, stopping him without a glance.
Her voice cut through the air—quiet, steady, final.
She didn’t shake. But something in her cracked—deep, invisible, fatal.
Her eyes locked on Miller.
“Let him go.” Her jaw tensed. “Him for me.”
Miller tilted his head, almost amused. “Touching.”
Then he nodded once.
But the man holding Lucian didn’t let go. He shifted, dragging Lucian back behind the others, gun never wavering. Still trained on Lucian’s skull. Still insurance.
Lucian gritted his teeth. “Don’t do this.”
His voice shook—not with fear, but with helpless rage.
“You don’t have to trade yourself for me. Damn it, Kris—don’t—”
She started walking. Slow, measured steps. Her arms loose at her sides, breathing shallow. Her gaze never wavered from Miller.
Eli reached out again, a hand brushing her arm. “Kristina—”
She stopped.
Didn’t turn to look at him—just slightly angled her head.
“Eli,” she said softly. “Get Lucian to safety.”
“Promise me.”
Her voice cracked.
Just a hairline fracture. But it was there.
“Promise you’ll keep him safe.”
Eli didn’t answer at first. He was staring at her like she’d already been taken. Like she was already slipping out of reach.
His jaw clenched. “Kristina…”
Behind her, Lucian’s eyes were wide, disbelief bleeding into grief. He’d gone still—utterly still, like if he moved, he might shatter.
“You said we do this together,” he said hoarsely. “You promised me.”
Her hands curled into fists. But she didn’t turn back. Not even when his voice cracked again.
Then Miller struck. He grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head back with cruel force.
A sharp inhale from someone—Ash, maybe Vex.
The barrel of his gun pressed to Kristina’s temple.
Lucian lunged forward, but Eli caught him, arm across his chest, anchoring him with everything he had.
“Let me go!” Lucian snapped. “Let me—”
“We will get her back,” Eli hissed under his breath, his voice like steel. “We don’t move now, we lose everything.”
Kristina didn’t struggle. She didn’t resist.
Not until she knew Lucian was safe.
Miller began to back out, dragging her with him. His men swept in like vultures—grabbing the sac, the drives, Kristina’s notes, even tearing through shelves. Precise. Relentless.
Kristina’s boots dragged slightly against the floor.
And then—at the threshold—she turned. Just once.
Her eyes locked with Sebastian’s.
A single look. Wordless. Piercing.
And then she was gone.
Lucian’s knees nearly buckled. He gripped the back of a chair like he might tear it from the floor, rage and despair crashing together in his chest.
“She gave herself up... for me.”
Eli finally let go of him.
“No,” he said. “She gave us time. Don’t waste it.”
Lucian shoved Eli against the wall, fists twisted in his collar.
“Why did you let them take her?! You said you were protecting her—for years! So why didn’t you stop them?!”
Sebastian moved to intervene, but Lucian shoved his hand away without even looking.
“You said you love her—but you let her be dragged away like that!”
Eli didn’t resist. His voice was calm. Quiet.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to!” Lucian’s voice cracked. “I can see it. You said you were protecting her—protected her for years! Then why?! Why didn’t you stop them?!”
This time, Eli broke free—shoving Lucian’s hands off his collar.
“Yes! I love her!”
His voice thundered, startling the others.
“And yes—I am protecting her. By protecting you. As much as I wanted to kill every last one of them, I couldn’t. I’d rather die than have her hate me for not protecting the one she loves.”
Ash and Vex exchanged glances.
Not surprised by the confession—
But shaken by the confrontation.
In the months they’d worked with Eli, they’d never seen him like this.
Never seen Lucian like this, either.
Lucian stared at him—not out of pity, but pure frustration.
He turned, ran both hands through his hair, then screamed.
Just one, guttural scream.
Sebastian stepped forward and put a firm hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t worry,” he said.
“That look? It wasn’t goodbye—it was a countdown.”
Everyone looked up.
Ash blinked.
“Are you sure?”
Vex frowned.
“What plan? She didn’t say anything.”
Sebastian gave them a look.
“You really don’t know her at all. You keep saying she was Black Harrow.”
He shook his head.
“That was just a name. A shadow. Kristina is more than that. She never does anything without thinking it through—without playing it in her head a hundred times.”
“If you want to see her in action, settle whatever that is between you two—and move. She’s already ten steps ahead.”
Angeles Crest | The Vault
Almost two hours later, the SUV skidded to a stop near the tree line, tires crunching over dry gravel and pine needles. Fog still clung to the forest’s edge, thick where the sun hadn’t fully burned through.
Lucian stepped out first, eyeing the steep path ahead. “This place isn’t on any map”
“It’s not supposed to,” Sebastian said, already moving. “Stay close. It’s a hike.”
They followed in silence, boots brushing over dead leaves, the air sharp with pine and damp rock. Vex glanced around, half-impressed. “You sure this isn’t where bodies get dumped?”
“Not unless Kristina did the dumping,” Sebastian muttered.
“What? Kristina? Does she know this place?” Ash asked, confused.
Sebastian did not answer and kept walking.
After several minutes, Sebastian led them to what looked like a jagged rock wall. He knelt, brushed aside a mossy patch, and keyed in a short code on a half-buried panel. A faint beep—then the mountain groaned.
Stone shifted. A steel doorway emerged from the earth, rising with mechanical precision.
“What the hell…” Lucian’s voice dropped.
“She built it before Black Harrow. I helped reinforce it. She made me promise—no one would know unless it was necessary. Not even Maxim.”
The door slid open, revealing cool darkness.
Inside, the vault was surgical in its organization—rows of weapon lockers, encrypted laptops, biometric safes, and drawers labeled with frightening clarity: “Surveillance Routes,” “Biohazard Response,” “Contingency Code C.”
Lucian stepped in last, eyes scanning every inch. “She did all this?”
“No one touches this place but her,” Sebastian said. “She said no one could ever know. Not until it was time.”
Ash let out a low whistle. “This is beyond prepper. It’s war-ready.”
Vex opened a drawer, blinked. “She alphabetized her knives.”
Eli, quiet until now, looked to Sebastian. “So what’s the plan?”
Lucian turned, jaw tight. “Yeah. What the hell are we doing here while she’s out there with that psycho?”
Sebastian walked to the center table, where a single file lay open—maps, old photos, a list of names.
“She left this in case something happened. We’re not here to hide. We’re here to finish what she started.”
Some wars are won in the dark—long before the world ever sees the fight.
—To be continued.
