That morning, deep inside the enemy's underground base...
Harsh white lights lit every inch of the metallic corridors. Researchers and technicians moved quickly through the laboratories, carrying samples, logging data, and exchanging brief, tense words.
Elsewhere, a group of young men and women—most the result of genetic selection programs—were eating breakfast in the sterile cafeteria. Meals were served fast, packed with calories. The clinking of metal utensils echoed dully across the room.
Peterson, still handcuffed, was being escorted by two guards toward the genetic examination chamber. His expression was calm, but his eyes were sharp—tracking every hallway, every door, calculating silently.
Suddenly—
WEEEEEE—WEEEEEE—WEEEEEE!!!
The loud wail of an emergency siren pierced the air. Red lights began flashing in rhythmic bursts.
Everyone in the cafeteria jumped to their feet. Trays dropped. Conversations stopped. Tension thickened instantly.
Meanwhile, in the main laboratory…
A high-ranking scientist in a white coat rushed over to Dr. Varn, who stood before a massive screen filled with flickering biometric data.
"Dr. Varn," he said breathlessly. "We've just completed the analysis on Peterson's genetic structure."
Dr. Varn narrowed his eyes. "Report."
"His genome contains an immunity factor we've never encountered—not just resistant to Earth's diseases, but completely stable against Zytherion mutation. It's... it's like the foundation of something new."
Peterson, still silent in the corner, glanced sideways at the screen displaying his DNA strands.
Dr. Varn's gaze grew cold, calculating. "At last... the missing piece. With your body, we can build the base for a new race—stable, superior, resilient."
The scientist added quietly, as if reluctant to speak the truth aloud, "And now that all pure humans have been wiped out... it's time. Time to start over. A civilization not born of Earth—but of Zytherion."
Peterson stared at them, then turned his eyes toward the glass—watching his own reflection.
His jaw tensed. His heart pounded, not from fear—but clarity.
"If they think I'm the key…" he thought, "they forgot one thing. A key can open… or it can lock something away forever."
Dr. Varn stood before the genetic projection of Peterson, the double helix rotating slowly on the large screen in front of him. He stepped closer, fingers brushing across the glass as if trying to absorb the power hidden within the strands of DNA.
"Don't forget one more thing," he said coldly. "Find Peterson's younger brother. Taren. He's been on the run far too long… resisting his father's legacy. But I remember—" his voice lowered, intrigued, "their father once said: 'There's something in Taren… something purer. Stronger.' He might be more valuable than Peterson himself."
Peterson, who had been silent until now, suddenly stood up—chains clinking as he moved.
"Don't you dare touch my brother," he snapped, his voice sharp and burning with anger.
The scientists nearby froze, tension thickening the air. Dr. Varn turned slowly, locking eyes with Peterson. He didn't look afraid—only curious. Calculating.
BANG!
The lab doors slid open with force.
A soldier rushed in, face pale with urgency. "Dr. Varn! We've got a situation!"
Varn spun around. "What is it now?"
"Chaos in the east wing. One of our external units was hit. Multiple systems are down. We think someone got inside."
Varn swore under his breath, clearly irritated. Then he cast one last look back at Peterson, a spark of menace in his eyes.
"Take him to isolation," he ordered the guards. "If he tries anything, shoot his legs."
Peterson didn't flinch, but his eyes were already calculating—planning.
Dr. Varn turned and stormed out, his lab coat billowing as he made his way toward the control center—leaving behind a room crackling with tension… and a prisoner whose fire was just beginning to rise.
That morning, a light fog still hung over the outer perimeter of the base. Sunlight had just begun to filter through the tall trees, while inside the military facility, the atmosphere was more tense than usual.
Outside the main fence, Riven and Nyssa crouched behind the wreckage of an old vehicle, each holding a compact weapon and a signal jammer.
"We have to make sure they get inside unnoticed," Nyssa whispered as she activated the jammer in her hand.
"We've only got ten minutes before the system resets," Riven nodded, his eyes scanning the distant patrols. "After that, security goes back online."
Inside the base, Lirael's footsteps echoed softly down a deserted hallway. Exter grabbed her hand and led her quickly around a corner.
"The mess hall's up ahead. We can slip in through the kitchen vents—safer that way," he whispered.
Lirael nodded, her expression focused but alert—like she could feel time running out.
Meanwhile, in a back corridor—
Veyra and Uncle Tyson moved swiftly through a narrow supply route. Two guards stood watch at an intersection.
"Now," Veyra murmured.
In one smooth motion, Veyra dropped one of the guards with a stun device, while Tyson shoved the other into the wall and locked him in a chokehold.
"This is our one shot," Tyson muttered under his breath.
Elsewhere in the base, Taren and Elior slipped through an old maintenance tunnel they'd found on a stolen schematic.
"Isolation ward should be in the west wing," Elior said, glancing at a small compass.
"Peterson's got to be there. We don't have much time," Taren replied, emotion tugging at his voice, but his steps remained steady.
In the command center, officers scrambled in response to alerts of system interference and intruder activity.
"Why's the signal down in Sector 3?!" one of them barked.
"Possible jammer, sir! But we haven't pinpointed the source!"
Dr. Varn, who had just arrived at the control room, immediately sensed something bigger was unfolding.
"Activate full lockdown. We're under coordinated attack—from the inside," he said coldly.
Up above the kitchen, Lirael finally pried open the ventilation duct and carefully dropped down into the empty mess hall, with Exter following close behind.
"Next stop is the central lab. That's where the core data and control systems are," he whispered.
Lirael gave a firm nod.
But before they could move—
BOOM!!
A sudden explosion rocked the lower level of the base.
Exter whipped his head toward the sound. "That must be Tyson and Veyra… They started earlier than we planned."
Lirael clenched her pendant tightly. "Then we start now too."