The aftermath lingered like a held breath.Outside the labyrinth’s stairs, dawn fractured the sky into ribbons of orange and violet. Vanguard members moved through the wrecked West Line site, carrying crates of recovered gear and hybrid survivors, but exhaustion lay thick across every face.Samuel stood atop a remnant scaffold, looking down at the facility’s ruined entrance, the site that once promised redemption—but now revealed its darkest ambition.Below, Sarah and Aria unpacked data cubes salvaged from shattered consoles.Sarah looked up. “Do you know what this is?”Aria held a translucent disc. When backlit, the swirling code within seemed alive—cells dividing. “Genetic algorithms. Orion templates.”Samuel joined, expression unreadable. “Explain.”Aria tapped the disc. The code bloomed into a visual record: human shapes, unfolding—metamorphosis in motion.Joey appeared behind her. “This was more than Chimera. They were reengineering people.”Cassari stepped forward, fists tight.

Samuel returned to the data sanctum beneath the Sanctuary, his footsteps echoing along cold alloyed walls. The chamber’s glowing runes pulsed softly under floor panels, reflecting his measured pacing. He carried a small data shard recovered from the IMA central archive—a shard that contained the only surviving records of his parents.A single desk lamp illuminated the workspace, its glow warm against the blue-grey light of the runes. Sarah, Cassari, Aria, and Orion stood in quiet respect, waiting beside flickering holoprojectors. Each knew the weight of the moment. The names Samuel Hayes meant more than legend—they held blood, grief, and unspoken truth.Joey lingered at the threshold, dark eyes fixed on the desk. He stepped forward, voice low. “Ready,” he said.Samuel placed the shard gently onto the holoprojector. The device hummed as filters engaged. Lines of code flickered, then rearranged into coherent images—documents, facial scans, memos, all dated years before the Collapse.Sar

There was no warning—only the sudden, metallic shriek of the walls tearing open.Then they came.Figures stepped through, armored in synthetic muscle, eyes glowing an unnatural turquoise. The silence of their march was more horrifying than war cries. They weren’t soldiers. They were remnants of something humanity never meant to build.The Sovereign Flesh.Samuel’s gaze sharpened. “Close-quarters. Defensive formation.”Vanguard responded instantly.Joey ducked behind a column, drawing his kinetic blades. Lioran lifted a fractal shield, embedding it into the corridor floor. Brenn stood at the front, claws drawn, veins lighting up blue.Aria didn’t move.Her eyes locked onto the creatures—no, victims. She whispered, “These are Trial Class Omega. Genetic splices with Voidborn marrow. They were never supposed to be woken.”“And yet,” Joey snapped, “here we are.”The first Sovereign lunged.It moved impossibly fast—blinking short distances, reality stuttering with each step.Samuel met it h

The night air tasted like ash. Breathing was effort. The Gate behind them stood silent, its energies spent—for now. But the fight had taken something from Samuel.He stumbled forward, shoulders slumped, lips parted.Aria caught him, arms steady.He looked at her—eyes empty, echoing the fractured realm they’d left behind.Joey stepped up beside them.“Hey,” he said gently. “Talk to me.”But Samuel couldn’t find the words. Who could describe collapsing timelines? Whose fault he saved versions of Sarah and himself that didn’t belong here?He closed his eyes. The world lurched again—fractures pulsing in his skull.Aria steadied him.“Stay with me,” she whispered.Samuel nodded, voice small. “I… should’ve been stronger.”“Strength isn’t about perfection,” Aria said, voice calm. “It’s about bearing what comes after.”He looked at her, seeing too much: the woman who knew his father, who held his secrets, who had kissed him moments ago and now held him steady.Back at camp, the team gathered a

The chamber was cold. Not from temperature, but memory.Dust danced in beams of pale light, caught between half-cracked ceiling vents and the distant hum of data vaults still pulsing with forgotten power. The hidden room beneath the West Line laboratory had remained untouched for decades, sealed behind a biometric cipher tied to blood—and Samuel had opened it with a single touch.His touch.“This place shouldn’t exist,” Aria whispered, stepping beside him. “This vault isn’t listed on any Archive registry. Not even the black logs.”Samuel didn’t answer. His gaze was fixed ahead—on the rows of crystalline spires glowing with internal projections. Echoes of names, dates, sequences. DNA helixes folded like origami inside amber.At the far wall, an interface flickered alive.One word blinked slowly in pale green:PROJECT ORIONHe approached the console, and a whisper echoed in the air—not from speakers, but from the walls themselves.“Welcome, Orion Line.”Joey let out a breath. “Okay. That