We ran.
Or rather—
Lucian ran ahead, clearing the way,
Chandler ran behind us holding Rowan tight,
and I ran with Horace bleeding into my arm,
his body shaking against mine with every step.
The corridors trembled around us—
the Prime Subject's broken voice echoing faintly in the collapsing halls.
"Elleanore…"
Every time it spoke my name, my heart clenched.
Not with recognition.
Not with instinct.
With fear.
Pure, cold fear.
Horace hissed in pain as I tightened my arms around him.
"I'm sorry—I'm sorry—just a little further—"
He forced one eye open, lips trembling.
"Elleanore… don't apologize… for saving me…"
My breath caught.
Lucian stopped abruptly and pressed his hand against a cracked scanner panel.
"This is it," he said.
"The emergency stabilization chamber."
Chandler shifted Rowan in his arms.
"And that means… what? Exactly?"
Lucian exhaled, chest rising and falling with urgency.
"It's where they used to monitor scent overload during the early Prime trials.
It can temporarily suppress pheromone spikes—
maybe long enough to keep Elleanore from hitting Stage Four."
My stomach twisted.
"And Horace?" I whispered.
Lucian met my eyes.
"It might stabilize him too.
If we get inside fast enough."
Rowan whimpered, burying his face in Chandler's shoulder.
"Is it safe…?"
Lucian hesitated.
"No."
Rowan flinched.
"But it's safer than letting the Prime Subject catch us," Lucian finished.
Chandler looked down at Rowan and brushed his trembling cheek.
"Hey. Look at me."
Rowan peeked up, eyes glossy with tears.
"You trust me?" Chandler whispered.
Rowan nodded, barely holding himself together.
"Then we're going inside."
Lucian slammed his fist against the panel again.
The scanner flickered, sparked—
then glowed faintly red.
"Authentication required," the system chirped, voice crackling with age.
Lucian cursed under his breath.
"There isn't time for this—"
The walls shook violently.
BOOM—
A metal beam fell behind us.
Rowan screamed and clung tighter to Chandler.
Chandler pressed his forehead to Rowan's temple.
"I've got you—I've got you—just breathe—"
Horace's breath stuttered.
"Elleanore—please—faster—"
I lifted him higher, heart pounding.
"Lucian—PLEASE—"
Lucian gritted his teeth.
"Using prince authorization—"
He pressed his badge to the scanner.
"Lucian Frinton—override ninety-nine—"
The scanner flickered.
ACCESS DENIED.
"What?!" Chandler snapped.
Lucian stared at the screen in disbelief.
"This door isn't coded to accept prince-level authentication."
Rowan whispered:
"Then… who… who opens it…?"
There was only one answer.
The realization hit all three of us at the same time.
Lucian whispered:
"It's coded for Prime access."
My heart dropped.
"Meaning only…"
I swallowed.
"Only a Prime can open it?"
Lucian nodded grimly.
"Yes."
Chandler swore under his breath.
Rowan shrieked as the walls cracked again.
"Elleanore!" Lucian said sharply.
"Put your hand on the panel."
"I—what if it's a trap?" I whispered.
Horace weakly shook his head.
"Elleanore… do it…"
His voice—barely there—was enough.
I pressed my palm to the scanner.
The panel glowed white.
Rowan gasped.
Chandler froze.
Lucian stared.
The scanner spoke:
"PRIME SUCCESSOR IDENTIFIED."
The door unlatched.
CLUNK.
Lucian exhaled with relief.
"Move! Inside!"
He shoved the door open.
Cold, sterile air flooded out.
—
THE STABILIZATION CHAMBER
The room was circular, dimly lit with soft blue light.
The walls were embedded with old pheromone regulators and scent suppression units.
Thin tubes lined the ground—some broken, some still faintly humming with power.
In the center was a raised platform with broad metal rails and faint markings of where subjects once stood.
My heart clenched.
This place…
This place smelled faintly like antiseptic, dust, and fear.
Lucian motioned urgently.
"Put Horace on the platform. It will give him a small window of stabilization."
I carried him forward.
Horace's breath shook as I lowered him onto the platform cushion, my hands trembling.
He groaned in pain, but even then—
he reached for my wrist weakly.
"Elleanore… don't go too far…"
I swallowed.
"I won't."
Lucian pressed buttons across the control panel.
Old lights flickered.
Static crackled.
The room hummed faintly with power.
Rowan clung to Chandler, shaking uncontrollably.
Chandler whispered into his hair:
"You're okay. I'm right here."
Rowan whimpered,
"I can't—I can't—everything hurts—I feel like I'm floating—Chandler—"
Chandler pulled him closer, pressing soothing kisses into Rowan's temple.
"It's your trauma.
Your scent sensitivity is spiking because of the collapse.
You're safe. Look at me."
Rowan forced himself to look.
Chandler held his face gently.
"I'm not letting you disappear.
Stay with me."
Rowan nodded, tears spilling over.
Lucian spoke sharply:
"Elleanore, your scent is destabilizing again."
"What—?!"
He pointed at the monitors.
My heart lurched.
The regulator readings were spiking—from my scent alone.
Lucian walked toward me, carefully.
"Elleanore… your evolution is climbing again.
You're hovering between Stage Three and Stage Four."
My breath crumbled.
"No—no—I'm not—I'm trying—"
"Your emotions are controlling it," Lucian said.
"And your emotions are chaos right now."
I looked down at Horace—
his pale face,
his trembling hand,
his chest barely rising.
My voice broke.
"Lucian… if I lose control—"
"You'll kill him," Lucian said quietly.
My knees buckled.
Horace's fingers curled in my sleeve weakly.
"Elleanore… look at me…"
He forced his eyes open—just barely.
"Elleanore… breathe…"
"I can't—I can't—Horace—I—"
He squeezed my hand.
"Smell me…"
My breath hitched.
Lucian whispered, voice trembling:
"Yes.
Elleanore—use your bond.
Focus only on him."
Chandler whispered from behind us:
"Rowan… do you feel it too…?"
Rowan nodded shakily.
"Their scents are… merging… like threads…"
Lucian exhaled.
"It's the stabilizer bond.
It's locking in."
The lights flickered.
BOOM—
The door shuddered violently.
Rowan screamed.
Chandler held him tighter.
"What the hell—?!"
Lucian's eyes widened.
"It's here.
The Prototype is trying to break in."
The door dented inward.
Dust rained from the ceiling.
Rowan sobbed, eyes wide with terror.
"No—no—no—no—"
Chandler cupped his cheeks, voice shaking.
"Rowan.
Ground yourself.
Look at me.
Stay with me."
Rowan grabbed Chandler's shirt desperately.
Lucian stared at the door in horror.
"That door isn't reinforced enough! It's going to—"
CRAAACK—
A massive dent formed in the metal.
Rowan screamed again.
"Elleanore!" Lucian yelled.
"We need your scent barrier—just enough to hold it off—"
"I—I can't—Horace—"
Horace suddenly pulled himself up with the last strength he had—
grabbed my collar—
and dragged me down until our foreheads touched.
His voice cracked:
"Elleanore…
you are not breaking.
You are not alone.
I'm here.
I'm right here.
You come back to me.
Do you hear me?"
My breathing hitched—
and then—
slowly
painfully
like pulling threads into place—
my scent shifted.
Down.
Lower.
Steadier.
Lucian whispered:
"Good—GOOD—keep going—"
Horace's hand trembled against my cheek.
"Elleanore…
choose me again…"
A sob escaped my chest.
"I choose you," I whispered.
My scent snapped into alignment.
Lucian spun to the console.
"The chamber's stabilizers are responding! Her output is stabilizing—!"
Chandler's voice broke behind us.
"It's… working…"
Rowan stared weakly.
"It feels… warm…"
Then—
BOOM—!!
The door blasted inward by several inches.
The Prime Subject's broken voice echoed through the cracks:
"YOU—
ARE—
MINE—"
Lucian shouted:
"ELLEANORE—NOW!"
I stood slowly, holding Horace's hand.
My voice steady—
quiet—
but firm.
"No.
I am not yours."
The Prime shrieked.
Horace pulled my hand weakly to his chest.
"Elleanore…"
"Yes?"
His eyes opened a fraction.
His voice was a broken whisper.
"…I choose you too…"
The stabilizers surged.
My scent roared to life—
controlled
anchored
aligned.
Outside the door, the Prototype screamed in fury.
And then—
the outer corridor collapsed—
burying the Prototype beneath tons of debris.
The chamber went silent.
Except for Horace's shaking breath.
Except for Rowan's quiet sobs.
Except for the wild, terrified pounding of my own heart.
Lucian whispered:
"…We're alive."
I sank to my knees beside Horace.
He lifted our joined hands.
"Elleanore…
don't leave…"
"I'm right here," I whispered, pressing my forehead to his.
And for the first time since this nightmare began—
my scent didn't spike.
It steadied.
It held.
Because it was tied to him.
What Binds Us
For a long moment, none of us spoke.
The echoes of the collapse faded slowly, like the building itself was catching its breath. Dust drifted in soft clouds, settling over cracked tiles. The stabilization chamber hummed weakly, its dim blue lights flickering but holding.
And in the center of it all—
Horace lay limp in my arms, unconscious again.
But alive.
Alive.
My hands trembled as I touched his cheek, brushing away the dust that clung to his skin.
His warmth felt faint.
But real.
"Horace…?"
My voice cracked.
"Please… say something…"
Nothing.
Not even a twitch.
Fear punched through me.
Lucian hurried over, kneeling beside us. He pressed two fingers to Horace's neck, jaw tight.
I held my breath until my lungs burned.
Then—
Lucian exhaled.
"He's alive. The stabilizers slowed the bleed."
My vision blurred instantly.
But before relief could settle—
Lucian's expression shifted.
"This is critical, Elleanore. His heartbeat is dangerously faint. He's running on fumes."
I clutched Horace closer.
"Then we need to get him out. We need a medic—"
"We will," Lucian said softly, firmly.
"But you need to breathe first."
I realized then—I wasn't breathing.
I gasped sharply, air filling my lungs too fast.
My heart stuttered.
My scent flared.
Lucian grabbed my wrist.
"Elleanore—that will push you into Stage Four—control it—control it—"
"I can't—"
My voice broke.
"I can't lose him—Lucian, I can't—"
Lucian's eyes softened.
"You aren't losing him. Look at him. He's fighting. He's still holding your hand."
I looked down.
Horace's fingers were wrapped around mine—weakly, but with stubborn determination.
My chest tightened painfully.
I lowered my forehead to his, whispering:
"I'm right here. Please stay with me. Please."
My voice shook with everything I'd been holding in.
Everything that had been building since Elliot vanished.
Since I entered the Academy.
Since the moment Horace started looking at me with something that burned too brightly to name.
I didn't realize I was crying until a tear slid off my chin and onto his cheek.
When I lifted my head, Lucian was staring at me with something like heartbreak.
Or understanding.
Or both.
"Elleanore," he said quietly,
"you need to let yourself fall apart for a moment. You're human, not a weapon."
I shook my head.
"If I fall apart, he'll die."
Lucian didn't argue.
And that alone almost undid me.
ROWAN BREAKS
Behind us, Rowan let out a soft, wounded sound.
A sound too fragile to belong in this broken, war-torn room.
Chandler knelt with him on the floor, arms wrapped around him protectively.
Rowan clung to Chandler's shirt, trembling so violently it looked painful.
His eyes were unfocused—like he didn't fully see the room around him.
"Chandler…" his voice cracked,
"I can't—I can't—I can't—"
Chandler pulled him closer, cradling his head.
"Hey, hey—look at me."
Rowan shook his head, whimpering.
"I hear it—I hear the metal—I hear it coming—I hear the screaming—Chandler please—" he choked,
"don't let them take me—please—"
Chandler pressed a gentle kiss into Rowan's hair.
"Rowan, baby, breathe. I've got you."
"N-No—no—it's coming—it's coming—"
His breath hitched violently, breaking into hyperventilation.
Chandler cupped his face, thumbs brushing Rowan's damp cheeks.
"You're safe," Chandler whispered fiercely.
"No one is taking you. No one is touching you. I swear on everything I have."
Rowan clung to his wrists like a lifeline.
Lucian glanced their way, expression shifting with something close to worry.
"Rowan is slipping into a dissociative flashback," Lucian murmured.
"We need to pull him back fast or he'll faint."
Chandler nodded.
"I know."
He leaned his forehead against Rowan's.
"Rowan.
Listen to me."
Rowan's breath shook.
"Keep your eyes on mine.
Feel my hands.
Feel my voice.
You're here.
Not there.
Here.
With me."
Rowan's sob quieted just slightly.
Chandler whispered softer, broken with emotion:
"You survived all of that.
You won.
And you're not alone now.
You don't have to be scared anymore."
Rowan's voice cracked like shattering glass.
"I… trust you…"
Chandler's breath caught.
Softly, he said:
"I won't ever let you go."
Rowan sobbed again, burying himself in Chandler's chest—
but his breathing steadied.
Just slightly.
Just enough to survive the panic.
Lucian nodded subtly.
"He's coming back. Keep going."
THE PRIME LORE
Lucian stood and returned to the panel, adjusting the failing stabilizers.
"Elleanore," he said without looking up,
"there's something you need to hear.
About Primes.
About what you really are."
My stomach tightened.
"I'm listening."
Lucian hesitated.
Chandler looked up briefly, still soothing Rowan.
Even he looked tense.
Lucian finally turned to me.
"Your evolution is different from the others because you weren't supposed to be just a Prime."
My breath froze.
"What?"
Lucian approached slowly.
"You are a successor, yes.
But more than that—your DNA wasn't meant to evolve."
He swallowed hard.
"It was meant to combine."
A cold shiver ran up my spine.
"Combine…? With what?"
Lucian's expression dimmed.
"With another Prime."
My heart slammed into my ribs.
"The Prototype wants you because its code is incomplete," Lucian said quietly.
"Your bloodline was designed to finish it."
My stomach turned.
"No—no, that's not—"
"Elleanore," Lucian said softly,
"the Forsetti labs predicted that only a bonded stabilizer could prevent the successor from collapsing."
"And that stabilizer is…?" my voice wavered.
Lucian looked at Horace.
Horace's unconscious form.
Horace's blood on my hands.
Horace's hand still curled weakly around mine.
Lucian said plainly:
"It's him."
My knees buckled.
Lucian knelt beside me.
"You bonded with him the moment you rejected the Prototype.
Your scent chose him.
And whether you want it or not—
that bond is permanent."
Chandler swallowed thickly.
"So if he dies…?"
Lucian lowered his voice.
"Elleanore won't survive her own evolution."
Rowan whimpered softly, terrified.
I pressed my forehead to Horace's.
"I won't lose him. I won't. I can't."
His lips parted faintly, as if trying to answer.
My tears fell onto his cheek.
"Please stay… please…"
His heartbeat fluttered beneath my palm.
Lucian checked his pulse again.
"It's irregular. We need to move soon. When the stabilizers fail, this chamber will collapse too."
Chandler tightened his grip on Rowan.
"How long do we have?"
Lucian glanced at the cracked ceiling.
"Five minutes. Maybe."
Rowan whimpered.
"Elleanore…?" Lucian said gently.
"Yes…?"
"You need to say goodbye."
My heart dropped.
"No," I breathed.
"No—NO—Lucian—he's not—"
"Not goodbye forever," Lucian said quickly.
"Goodbye to this room.
We need to move him.
He won't survive another collapse."
I felt dizzy.
I leaned closer to Horace, my voice trembling.
"Horace…? I'm lifting you, okay?
Stay with me. Please."
His eyelashes fluttered just slightly.
Just enough to let me know he heard.
Even now.
Even fading.
He heard me.
THE PRIME'S LAST WHISPER
Lucian stepped toward the door.
And froze.
A sound drifted through the vents.
Soft.
Broken.
Distorted.
"Elleanore…"
The temperature seemed to drop instantly.
Rowan stiffened in Chandler's arms, going rigid.
Lucian went pale.
Chandler whispered:
"Are you serious right now—after ALL THAT—?!"
The voice came again.
"You… cannot… run…"
Rowan screamed and covered his ears.
Chandler held him close, turning him away from the door.
Lucian grabbed me.
"Elleanore—LISTEN—this is IMPORTANT—"
The voice seeped through the walls like poison.
"I will… finish… what I started…"
Lucian shouted:
"Elleanore—FOCUS ON ME—NOT THE VOICE—"
But I was frozen.
Because the next words—
stole the breath from my lungs.
"…Elliot… calls… for you…"
My heart stopped.
"No," I whispered.
Lucian grabbed my face, forcing my eyes on his.
"Elleanore—HE'S LYING—DO NOT LISTEN—HE'S TRYING TO BREAK YOUR EVOLUTION—"
But the damage was done.
My scent spiked—sharp and fast.
Horace's body jerked painfully.
"El…lea…"
I grabbed him, pulling him closer.
"No—no—it's lying—don't—don't slip—Horace—please—"
His breathing quickened in panic.
Lucian cursed and grabbed my shoulders.
"Elleanore—
choose him again—
NOW—
before your instincts spiral—"
I choked on a sob.
"I choose you," I whispered to Horace, voice broken and trembling.
"I choose you. Only you."
Horace's breathing steadied—
slightly.
Enough.
Lucian exhaled and stood.
"We move. Now."
Chandler lifted Rowan.
I lifted Horace.
Lucian pulled open the auxiliary passage door.
The Prime's voice echoed one last time:
"…you cannot escape… what binds you…"
And then—
silence.
Lucian stepped into the hallway.
"Move.
This next part will be hell."
I took a breath, held Horace tight, and whispered:
"I'm right here. Don't leave me."
And we stepped into the darkness
toward the final part of this arc.