The corridor leading to the isolation chamber was eerily silent, only the sound of boots echoing against the cold floor.
Two armed guards strolled casually, unaware of the danger closing in.
Suddenly—
Peterson struck like a shadow. His left hand punched the first guard in the throat, dropping him silently. Before the second could react, Peterson snatched his weapon and smashed the butt of the gun into the guard's temple. He crumpled to the floor without a sound.
Both guards were down. No alarm. No warning.
Peterson crouched down and took a key off one of the bodies. With a click, the handcuffs came off.
He flexed his wrists, then grabbed a sidearm from the fallen guard.
"Now it's my turn…" he muttered coldly.
Still bruised and bloodied, Peterson moved quickly down the hallway, recalling the layout he had memorized from the stolen blueprints.
Meanwhile, Taren and Elior were making their way toward the isolation wing.
"Hold up," Taren said, raising a hand. "You hear that?"
Footsteps—fast, heading their way.
They got ready.
From around the corner, a familiar figure appeared—Peterson, now free and armed, staring at them in surprise.
"Taren?"
"Peterson!" Taren rushed to him, relief washing over his face.
"You actually came..." Peterson muttered, hoarse. "You know I could've escaped on my own."
Elior gave a short laugh. "Yeah, but who else is gonna bring you breakfast?"
Peterson gave a faint smirk, then his expression hardened. "We need to get out before Varn realizes I'm missing. But there's more. They're planning to create a new generation… using Zytherion DNA. They've already wiped out every pure human they could find."
Taren clenched his fists. "I know. That's why we're here. We end this—tonight."
Peterson nodded. "I know the way to the main lab. But we have to move."
Peterson moved swiftly down the dim corridor, glancing back at Taren and Elior following cautiously behind.
"Listen, you two aren't coming with me to the lab," Peterson said quietly but firmly. "I only need Exter and Lirael there."
Taren and Elior exchanged uncertain looks.
Peterson added, "Lirael might be the key. Not me, not you. I haven't told anyone—not even Varn."
They fell silent, curious.
Peterson took a deep breath, staring ahead. "I've suspected something about Lirael for a while. Something hard to explain, even to me. It started when she kept tending to her liontin—she's not just an ordinary human."
Lirael, overhearing this from behind, paused briefly, her face pale but determined.
Exter appeared from the shadows, eyes sharp.
"If that's true, we have to protect her. Keep her safe until this mission is over."
Peterson nodded slowly.
"We need to move fast. If Varn finds out what Lirael really is, we're all dead before we can even act."
Taren looked at Peterson, resolve hardening in his eyes.
"Alright, we'll wait for you at the rendezvous point. Be careful."
Peterson and Exter vanished deeper into the corridor, leaving Taren and Elior behind.
Inside the laboratory filled with advanced equipment and mysterious glowing tanks, Dr. Varn stood before a large screen displaying genetic data. His eyes were cold and sharp as the warning alarm echoed through the facility.
"They're coming," he said quietly to the gathered soldiers.
The soldiers immediately raised their weapons, bracing themselves to confront the intruders. Red warning lights flickered, intensifying the tense atmosphere.
Meanwhile, Lirael moved swiftly and carefully through the labyrinthine halls of the lab, her eyes burning with determination.
"I have to find Varn... and stop him before it's too late," she thought to herself.
Heavy footsteps approached, gunfire echoed through the corridors.
Lirael ducked behind a workstation, avoiding the soldiers' flashlights and line of sight.
"Stay calm... stay focused," she whispered.
In the control room, Dr. Varn ordered sharply:
"Capture them alive — especially Lirael. Don't let her escape."
Small explosions rocked the lab, signaling the fierce resistance underway.
Lirael crept closer to Varn's main chamber, her breath heavy but her resolve unshaken.
"This ends now," she murmured.
Suddenly, darkness engulfed the laboratory as the power cut out. The atmosphere turned tense and suffocating. Dr. Varn emerged from the shadows, pressing a pistol against Lirael's head.
"Did you really think you could stop me?" Varn said coldly, full of menace.
Outside, Exter moved swiftly, taking down confused soldiers. But in the dark, his shot accidentally hit a chemical container, sparking a small fire that quickly grew.
Back inside, Lirael closed her eyes, trying to calm herself, bracing for the worst.
Suddenly, a gunshot cracked through the silence.
"Bang!"
Dr. Varn fell, blood pouring from a head wound. Peterson stood behind him, the rifle still smoking.
"Run now, Lirael!" Peterson shouted.
In another hallway, Elior, Veyra, Taren, and Uncle Tyson were rushing the young men and women out, guided by the thickening smell of smoke.
Outside, Riven and Nyssa waited anxiously inside the bus. They were frantic as the group poured in, coughing and covered in dust.
"Where are Lirael, Peterson, and Exter?!" Riven demanded, turning to Veyra and Taren.
"They're still inside!" Veyra gasped.
Peterson, Exter, and Lirael sprinted through smoke-filled corridors, dodging debris. The automated doors began locking one by one due to a system malfunction.
At the main exit, Peterson and Exter fought desperately to unlock the mechanical lock. The door opened just halfway—just enough for Lirael to crawl through.
Exter got out first, but Peterson was trapped, his vision blurring from the choking smoke.
Lirael shouted, "Peterson! Don't give up! You can make it!"
With his last strength, Peterson pried the lock open further. The door finally swung wide just seconds before sealing shut again. He crawled out, barely breathing.
Outside, Taren stood anxiously waiting. As a massive explosion shook the compound, three figures stumbled toward him—Peterson among them, badly wounded.
They all hurried onto the bus.
Lirael looked at Peterson, relief washing over her—and something deeper beginning to stir in her heart.
Taren quickly supported his brother Peterson, who was badly wounded and nearly collapsing. Peterson's face was pale, his breath ragged, but his eyes still held a fierce spark that refused to die.
"Hold on, Pet. We're almost out of here," Taren said firmly, though worry lined his voice.
Lirael helped lift Peterson onto the bus. All eyes were on the injured man; a heavy silence fell over the cabin. Riven and Nyssa sat upfront while the others lined the seats behind.
Exter sat beside Lirael, gently rubbing her back, silently offering strength.
"Let's move. We have to get away from here fast," Riven said, starting the bus engine.
Outside, the second bus slowly began to move, carrying the rest of their group. Dust and smoke still rose from the ruins, a grim reminder of how close they came to disaster.
Both buses sped away from the shattered base, leaving behind the smoke and rubble.
Inside the bus, Taren kept a close watch on Peterson's condition. "You have to hold on, brother. We need you…"
Peterson gave a weak smile and squeezed Taren's hand tightly. "I'm not giving up. This is just the beginning."
Lirael stared out the window at the dense forest slowly swallowing the scars of war. Inside her, a fierce determination was kindling — no matter what lay ahead, she was ready.