At that same moment, in a different part of the city, Reynold stood over the open vault inside the abandoned underground chamber. His flashlight flickered across the metallic filing cabinets, the old Helix insignia barely visible through dust and grime.
He opened a drawer.
Patient X17 – Code Name: Denevar
He flipped through the documents. Vital signs, mutation records, chemical analyses. Dosages. Test environments. Trials.
A photograph.
He stared at it.
The boy couldn't have been more than fifteen. Scrawny, with wild eyes and a haunted expression.
"Elias…" he whispered.
A sound from behind.
Reynold spun, gun raised.
No one.
Then a soft click.
The lights above him flared to life. Pale blue. Emergency backups.
Then a voice. Filtered through the intercom.
"You're looking for ghosts, Reynold. But some ghosts don't want to be found."
He turned again. "Who are you?"
The voice paused. Then: "Someone who once believed in salvation. And found hell instead."
