The sky above the city was a bruised gray, thick with the smell of rain and distant smoke.
Lena stood in front of what was left of the old Blackwood research facility — or what had once been it.
The building had been abandoned for years, fenced off and forgotten by the world. But for her, this was where everything began — and where it had to end.
Her father's ghost was here.
And so was the truth.
---
The air was heavy with dust as she stepped through the broken gate. Her boots crunched over glass, the shards glinting like tears beneath the faint light.
She'd stolen the address from Adrian's desk that morning.
He didn't know she was here.
Every instinct told her to turn back, but her heart wouldn't let her. The memory of that video — her father, the fire, Adrian's face — played over and over in her head.
And every time, she heard the same words:
> "You can't erase truth."
---
Inside, the walls were charred black, the air still faintly metallic with the scent of old chemicals.
Each step deeper into the ruins felt like stepping back through time.
As she reached what used to be the central lab, a sudden rush of dizziness hit her.
Her knees buckled, her vision blurred.
The past was pulling her under.
---
Flashes came in pieces — bright, violent, fragmented like shards of glass.
Fire.
Screams.
A man's hand grabbing hers, dragging her toward the door.
"Run!"
Then another voice, deeper, colder — Marcus's.
> "She's seen too much."
She turned — and saw the gun.
The shot echoed, a sound that split her skull open. She screamed, clutched her head, and fell to her knees.
---
When her eyes opened again, the world was flickering — half present, half memory. The flames were back. The ceiling was collapsing. But she wasn't sixteen anymore. She was watching from both sides — the girl she was, and the woman she'd become.
Her younger self stood frozen by the doorway, staring at two men struggling inside the burning room — her father and Marcus Blackwood.
Marcus's gun went off. Her father fell.
And then… Adrian.
Younger, terrified, bursting through the smoke, dragging her away.
She remembered his hand — trembling but strong — gripping hers until everything went dark.
---
When Lena came back to herself, she was lying on the cold concrete floor, covered in ash and dust.
Her breath came in sharp gasps.
Someone knelt beside her, his voice low and urgent.
"Lena, stay with me."
Adrian.
Her eyes fluttered open, focusing on his face — the worry, the relief, the exhaustion.
"How… how did you find me?" she whispered.
"You took my car this morning," he said with a small, shaky smile. "You didn't realize it has GPS tracking."
She gave a weak laugh that turned into a cough. "You really don't trust anyone, do you?"
"Not when it comes to you."
---
He helped her sit up. The look in his eyes was different this time — softer, broken.
"I shouldn't have let you come here," he said. "This place isn't just a ruin. It's a grave."
She stared at the burned walls around them. "I had to see it for myself."
"What did you remember?"
Her fingers tightened around his sleeve. "Everything."
He froze.
She looked up at him, her voice trembling. "Marcus shot my father. You pulled me out. You saved me."
Adrian nodded slowly. "Yes."
"But Marcus didn't die in the fire."
His eyes darkened. "No. He disappeared before the explosion. Victor helped him."
"Why?"
"To bury the evidence."
She stared at him, realization dawning like horror. "You think he's still alive."
Adrian hesitated. "I think someone wants us to believe he is."
---
Lena reached into her pocket and pulled out a melted ID badge she'd found on the ground — the name burned but still visible.
Dr. M. Blackwood
She handed it to him silently.
He stared at it for a long moment, then whispered, "My uncle Marcel. He died years before this fire."
"Then why was his badge here?"
Adrian looked around the room, the pieces clicking together in his mind. "Unless…"
He stopped.
"Unless what?"
He turned toward her, his voice tight. "Unless Marcus wasn't the one running this project."
"Then who was?"
He looked at her — his expression unreadable, his voice low.
> "Someone who knew how to fake a death."
---
Before Lena could respond, a faint metallic sound echoed down the corridor — a door creaking open.
Adrian rose to his feet instantly, pulling her behind him. "Stay here."
He moved toward the sound, his footsteps silent on the ash-covered floor.
"Adrian, wait—"
Too late.
The moment he turned the corner, a sharp click echoed.
A gun's safety being released.
Then a voice, calm and familiar:
> "You should've stayed away, Blackwood."
---
Lena's blood froze.
She recognized that voice.
Victor Hale stepped out of the shadows, the dim light glinting off his serpent ring.
And beside him, holding a flashlight — was Dr. Alvarez.
---
Lena's breath caught. "No…"
Adrian's gun was already raised. "You were working for him?"
The doctor's eyes softened with guilt. "I told you to stop digging."
Victor smirked. "You really should've listened."
Then he turned the gun toward Lena.
> "Now, let's finish what your father started."