Page 10 — The Awakening
Darkness was no longer just the absence of light.
It was weight — heavy, suffocating, endless. It pressed against Eli's chest until breathing became an effort, until thought itself blurred into static. Somewhere within that fog, voices drifted — sharp, distorted, familiar.
"He's stable for now," someone said. "But the serum won't hold forever."
Another voice — smoother, colder. "It doesn't need to. Just long enough for him to remember."
The voices faded again, replaced by a low, rhythmic beep. A steady pulse that seemed to anchor him to what little reality remained.
Then, light.
Eli's eyes snapped open, and he gasped. The air burned his lungs, sterile and cold. The ceiling above him was white, endless, the kind you only saw in hospitals or laboratories. Tubes snaked into his arm, and faint bruises marked the spot where the dart had hit.
For a moment, he couldn't remember his name. Then the memories came crashing in — the fight, the blood, Adrian's voice screaming his name before everything went black.
Adrian.
He bolted upright, wincing as pain flared down his side. "Adrian?" he croaked, his voice hoarse.
No answer.
He tore the IV from his arm and stumbled to his feet. His surroundings came into focus — glass walls, security cameras, a single locked door with a glowing keypad. The place felt wrong. Too clean. Too quiet. Too controlled.
He moved closer to the glass — and froze.
Beyond the wall was another room. Inside it sat Adrian — wrists bound to a steel chair, head bowed. His shirt was soaked in blood at the shoulder where he'd been shot, and a faint light flickered above him. A man stood across from him — older, silver-haired, composed.
Adrian's father.
Eli pressed his hand against the glass. "Adrian!"
Adrian's head lifted slightly, eyes finding him through the reflection. For a brief second, their gazes met — and something inside Eli shattered. Adrian looked exhausted, but alive. He mouthed something.
Don't speak.
Before Eli could react, Adrian's father turned.
"Ah," he said, smiling faintly. "The boy wakes."
Eli's pulse spiked. "What do you want with me?"
The man approached the glass, hands clasped behind his back. His eyes were sharp — the same steel blue as Adrian's, but stripped of warmth. "Want? I already have what I want."
He gestured to Adrian. "My son's loyalty. Or what's left of it."
Eli shook his head. "You're lying. He'd never—"
"Never betray you?" the man interrupted softly. "Tell me, Eli — how well do you really know him? The man who found you, protected you, hid you away? Do you truly believe that was out of love?"
Eli's chest tightened. "Yes."
The man's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Then let me show you the truth."
He pressed a button on the console beside him.
A projection flickered to life on the glass — footage, grainy but clear. Adrian, in a dark room, speaking to someone unseen.
Voice distorted from the speaker: "You have one job, Cole. Eliminate the witness. No loose ends."
Adrian's recorded voice: "And if I refuse?"
"You know the consequences."
Adrian's jaw in the video tightened. "He's just a kid."
"Then make it quick."
The screen froze there — Adrian's face half-lit, torn between duty and despair.
Eli's breath hitched. He stumbled back, shaking his head. "No. No, you're twisting it. He didn't—"
"He did," the man said, tone smooth, almost gentle. "He was supposed to kill you, Eli. You were the witness. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. So instead, he hid you — and in doing so, condemned you both."
Eli's knees felt weak. The room spun around him. "You're lying."
"Am I?" The man turned to the side. "Perhaps we should ask him."
He signaled to someone off-screen. The door to Adrian's cell opened, and two guards stepped in, hauling him upright.
"Father," Adrian rasped. "Let him go."
His father's expression hardened. "You made your choice, Adrian. And now you'll watch what your mercy has cost."
Eli pounded on the glass. "Stop it! Don't touch him!"
But his words were drowned out by the crackle of electricity — the guards forcing Adrian back into the chair, strapping him down. His father pressed another button, and the chair hummed to life. Adrian's body tensed, muscles straining against the restraints.
"No!" Eli screamed. He slammed his fist into the glass, once, twice, again — until blood smeared across the surface. "Please, stop!"
But the man didn't flinch. He watched his son with quiet detachment, as though observing a scientific experiment rather than his own blood.
Adrian's voice broke through the noise — raw, strained. "Eli—don't—believe him."
Then another surge, and he choked on a cry.
Eli couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed a chair, swung it with all his strength at the glass. It didn't even crack.
Desperation clawed through him. There had to be a way — a code, a weakness, something.
He looked around, scanning every surface until his eyes landed on a control panel beside the door. A keypad — glowing faintly with a four-digit display.
Eli's mind raced. What would Adrian use? A code. A memory.
Then it hit him — the night Adrian found him, the date he always kept on the small silver watch he wore.
Three weeks ago.
He typed the date: 0815.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then — a click.
The door unlocked.
Eli ran.
The hallway outside was empty, sterile, humming with the sound of distant machines. He moved fast, following the faint echo of voices. Another door. Another lock. But this time, there was a card reader.
He looked down at the guard he'd passed moments ago — unconscious on the floor, probably tranquilized during the chaos — and grabbed the keycard from his belt.
The door slid open.
The moment he stepped inside, alarms blared.
Adrian's father turned sharply as Eli burst in. "Persistent, aren't you?"
Eli ignored him, running straight to Adrian. "Hold on!" He ripped at the straps, hands trembling.
"Eli, go!" Adrian hissed. "You shouldn't have come."
"Too late," Eli said, voice cracking. "I'm not leaving you again."
A gun cocked behind him. "Touch him, and I'll end this right now."
Eli froze.
Adrian's father stood a few feet away, weapon steady, eyes cold. "You think this is love, boy? It's pity. My son feels guilt, not affection."
Eli turned slowly to face him. "Then you don't know your son at all."
Before the man could fire, Adrian surged forward, breaking one of the restraints with a snarl. He grabbed the gun midair, twisting it out of his father's hand. The shot went off — grazing Adrian's side — but he didn't stop. He slammed his father against the console, fury burning in his eyes.
"You hurt him," Adrian said, voice low and dangerous. "You don't get to touch him again."
The older man smirked, even as blood dripped from his lip. "And now what? You'll kill me? Become the very thing I made you?"
Adrian hesitated. The gun trembled in his grip.
Eli stepped closer, voice barely a whisper. "You're not him, Adrian."
The tension broke like glass. Adrian dropped the gun.
His father took the chance — drawing a hidden blade, lunging.
Adrian turned just in time. The blade sank deep into his shoulder — not fatal, but close. He cried out, shoving his father back. The older man stumbled, hit the control console — and the sparks ignited.
The system overloaded. Flames licked across the panels, alarms shrieking. The air filled with smoke.
"Adrian!" Eli grabbed him, half-carrying him toward the door.
Adrian's breath came shallow. "Go. Leave me."
"Not without you."
They stumbled through the hallway as the fire spread, heat biting at their skin. Behind them, the lab erupted in light and sound — a violent symphony of destruction.
By the time they reached the stairwell, Adrian could barely stand. Eli pulled his arm over his shoulders, dragging him down flight after flight. "Just a little more," he whispered. "Stay with me."
When they finally burst through the exit, rain slammed against their faces. The storm hadn't ended — it had only gotten worse. Lightning streaked across the skyline, painting the night in violent white.
Adrian collapsed to his knees, coughing, his body shaking. Eli knelt beside him, holding his face between trembling hands. "You're okay," he said, voice breaking. "You're okay, you're—"
Adrian's blood stained his fingers. "Eli," he whispered, barely audible. "You should've run."
"I'm not leaving you," Eli said fiercely.
Adrian's eyes met his — weary, raw, filled with something deeper than words. "Then you'll have to carry the truth for both of us."
Eli frowned. "What do you mean?"
Adrian slipped something into his palm — the flash drive. The one that started it all.
"Take it," he said. "Expose them. Everything my father built. Don't let this be for nothing."
Eli shook his head, tears mixing with rain. "You're coming with me."
Adrian smiled faintly, the first real smile Eli had seen in days. "You're stubborn."
"So make me regret it later," Eli whispered.
Adrian's hand tightened weakly around his. "Promise me."
"I promise."
Sirens wailed in the distance — police, fire, maybe both. The burning building behind them crackled and roared, threatening to collapse. Eli dragged Adrian to his feet, supporting him as they disappeared into the storm.
Behind them, the penthouse that once belonged to power and secrets crumbled into fire and ash.
Ahead of them — freedom. Or whatever came next.
As they moved through the rain, Adrian looked at Eli one last time, voice rough but steady.
"I thought I'd lost everything," he said. "Then you walked into my life."
Eli smiled through his tears. "Then maybe
we both get to start over."
And together, they vanished into the night — two shadows beneath the same storm, bound not by blood or fate, but by the fragile, dangerous thing they still dared to call love.