Ten years.
The mountains around their cave had seen ten cycles of snow and thaw. The world outside had continued its slow, grinding rot, but in their high-altitude sanctuary, time had taken on a different quality. It was measured not in days, but in the incremental, bone-deep improvements of their bodies and the ever-increasing weight of the Umbralite equipment.
Eva had explained it one evening, watching the perpetual youth in Maya's face, the lack of new lines on her own. "The Architect's modifications… the hybrid DNA… it halts or dramatically slows cellular decay. We either don't age, or we age so slowly it doesn't matter. We're stuck like this." It was a blessing and a curse—eternity to live in a world they were trying to save from itself.
The training had never ceased, only evolved, becoming more brutal and complex. Wolfen was a relentless, creative, and often infuriating taskmaster. The Umbralite weights had grown heavier, the exercises more sadistically engineered, the Slab of Eternal Suffering now pitted with thousands of fist and foot-shaped impressions.
The results, however, were undeniable.
Where once there had been a group of ragged survivors, there now stood a unit of living weapons. Eva's frame, always lean, was now corded with defined, functional muscle, her abs a sculpted testament to a decade of punishing core work. The boys had transformed completely. Derek's shoulders were broad and powerful, Leo's physique was a dense map of strength, and even Jordan had filled out, his resurrected body honed into a formidable instrument. They had clawed their way up the Tier system through sheer, bloody-minded effort. Derek, Leo, and Jordan were now solid Tier 8s—no longer irritants, but genuine threats. Eva, refining her augmented speed and Wolfen's gifted power, was a sharp, precise Tier 7.
One day, after a particularly grueling session, Leo, dripping with sweat and feeling invincible, flexed his impressive biceps and ridged abdomen in Wolfen's direction. "Not bad for a 'Tier 12 irritant,' huh?"
Wolfen, who had been observing with his usual detached air, didn't even smirk. He simply walked over, hooked his fingers under the hem of his own worn shirt, and lifted it just enough.
The sight stole the breath from all of them. It wasn't the bulky, showy muscle of a bodybuilder. It was the anatomy of a predator. Every muscle group was defined with a terrifying, surgical precision, layered over a frame of dense power that promised unimaginable force. It was like comparing a decorative sword to a monomolecular blade. He let the shirt fall back into place. "Don't get cocky."
But the most profound transformation was Maya's. She had taken secret, additional lessons with Wolfen, not in strength, but in control. The sessions were mental, emotional, and psychological marathons. He taught her to map the edges of her hunger, to walk the razor's edge of her transformation without falling. Physically, she was a marvel—more muscular than Eva, every movement speaking of contained, explosive power, but sculpted in a way that didn't stand out grotesquely, just… more. She talked now, her voice quiet but clear, though long stretches of comfortable silence were still her default state. The shattered girl was gone, replaced by a quiet, deadly calm.
Finally, the day came. They had scoured the data from the wrecked helicopter, planned their route, forged what supplies they could. They were leaving for Alaska. They had trained for a decade for this moment.
They had traveled exactly one mile from their cave when the sound came—the familiar, dreaded thrum of an Architect helicopter. This one was smaller, sleeker. It descended into a clearing ahead, its downdraft whipping the trees. Adrenaline spiked. Weapons were drawn. Ten years of training snapped into focus. They were ready to face a monster.
The door slid open.
And out stepped a man.
He was tall, with a lean, academic build, dressed in a simple, dark, high-collared jacket and trousers. There were no tubes, no grotesque cybernetics, no visible mutations. He looked… human. Ageless, like them. And he wore a mask, but it was different from the standard silver. It was a smooth, polished bronze, elegantly simple, with dark lenses for eyes.
Except for Wolfen, who went very still, the rest were shocked into confusion. This wasn't the monster they had prepared for.
The bronze-masked figure raised a hand in a placating gesture. "Wolfen," he said, his voice synthesized but calm, almost weary. "It's been a long time."
"Prime 5," Wolfen replied, his tone unreadable. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to give you updated information," Prime 5 said. "The Alaskan lead is a dead end. A deliberate misdirection. Your sister, and Eva's sister, Alina, were transferred. They are in the Kongo Laboratory. Deep in the Congo Basin." He recited a string of precise coordinates. "The facility is subterranean, built into the river system. Far more secure than the Alaska site."
He turned to go, his mission apparently complete.
"Why?" Eva burst out, her voice sharp with a decade of pent-up desperation and suspicion. "Why are you helping us? You're one of them."
Prime 5 paused, his bronze mask turning to regard her. The synthesized voice was quiet, layered with a profound and genuine sorrow. "There is too much evil in this world which I cannot destroy alone. I need help. And I need allies. Strong allies. Trustworthy allies."
The confession hung in the air, staggering in its implication.
Wolfen took a step forward. "And what is the other reason?"
Prime 5 had one foot on the helicopter's skid. He looked back at Wolfen, and even through the mask, they could feel the weight of his gaze.
"I am simply fulfilling a promise, Wolfen," he said, his voice softening. "Just a promise."
With that, he boarded the helicopter. The door hissed shut, and the aircraft lifted off, vanishing into the sky as quickly as it had appeared, leaving them standing in the sudden silence, their entire world upended once again. Alaska was a lie. Their destination was now the heart of Africa. And their most powerful enemy had just become their most mysterious, and perhaps only, ally.