I pause inside the threshold, my eyes drinking in every horrific detail while the doors groan shut behind us with mechanical finality, sealing us inside this chamber of horrors.
The air has the acrid tang of chemicals, sterile and bitter. Overhead, fluorescent lights buzz. Long steel counters stretch the length of the cavernous room, each one cluttered with flasks, beakers, and colorful test tubes.
Tubes snake from one container to another, pulsing faintly with whatever unholy substances flow through them.
The walls are a nightmarish maze of panels and machinery, every surface covered in dials, glowing screens, and switches that belong in some fever dream of mad science. This is a place where humanity comes to die and something else is born in its place.
This room alone makes Bash’s lab look like a child’s chemistry set.
The cold seeps into my bones immediately, the kind of artificial chill that has nothing to do with temperature and everything to do with the absence of anything remotely human or warm.
We fan out around the room, each of us taking in the magnitude of what we’ve stumbled into. The low, constant hum of machines is unsettling.
“Don’t touch anything,” Bash says. “Keep moving.”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. Every instinct I have is screaming at me to get out of here, but my rage keeps me rooted in place, keeps me moving forward into the belly of this place.
Malachi takes the lead, pushing open the next door. We file in and spread out, weapons ready. This room has a handful of people dressed in sterile white suits, but they panic the momentthey see us, scurrying toward the exit on the far side of the room.
Smart choice.
The floor here is slick with puddles that reflect the eerie glow of massive glass domes stretching down the corridor like alien pods. Each dome radiates a golden amber light from within, pulsing like a diseased heartbeat.
I approach one to inspect it closer. It’s like staring into a sealed ecosystem—each dome designed to keep something trapped inside or keep the world safely out.
A wolf paces frantically within the nearest one, its mangled fur pressing against the glass. The creature’s appearance isn’t far off from the monstrosity we saw with Gary and Rupert when they started the fire. I want to shatter the glass and free it, but part of me is terrified it would devour us all.
I force myself to keep moving. “This is sicker than I anticipated,” Nasha says, aghast.
I join her at the next globe. The creature inside froths at the mouth, its form so twisted and unnatural that I can’t even name what it once was. It’s an abomination, something that should never exist.
“Keep moving,” Malachi urges, his hand finding my shoulder and nudging me forward.
I speed past the remaining orbs, deliberately avoiding looking at the ones on the opposite side of the room. My heart is breaking for whatever unholy experiments are happening to these poor animals down here.
In the next room, I sprint to the clear wall, pressing my palms against its cold surface.
There are Avids, dozens of them.
A long hallway stretches ahead with clear acrylic walls on either side, punctured with small holes for air. Both rooms are packed with people wearing thin hospital gowns, their facesgaunt and hollow. They pace like caged animals, some sitting in corners, others pressed against the walls.
I spot a woman close to my age near the barrier and thrust my fingers through one of the holes to touch her trembling hand. The contact sends a jolt through me—warm, human, real.
“Who are you? What’s happening?” she asks, and I realize we must look terrifying with our masks and weapons.
“We’re here to help,” I whisper, my throat tight. “What are they doing to you down here?”
Bash appears beside me, looking from side to side as he surveys our surroundings.
“Don’t talk to them,” another Avid warns sharply from behind the woman, his eyes darting nervously between us. “You don’t know who they are.”
She glares at the man, then turns back to us. “I’m an Avid like you. I promise we’re here to help,” I assure her, and she shakes her head.
“I have nothing more to lose,” she says. “They’ve been taking our blood and injecting us with viruses that amplify our powers but make us aggressive and uncontrollable, unrecognizable even to our own families.”
This woman has watched loved ones transform into monsters.
The man shoves her aside and presses his face against the wall. “They’re creating an army they can control or sell to the highest bidder as living weapons.”
