He looked up at them, at his broken, mismatched family, and a new, cold wave of dread washed over him.
He was about to lead them into hell.
"Valerius's intel wasn't complete," he said, his voice a low, grim statement of fact.
He pointed to the lowest, most heavily reinforced level of the blueprint.
"That's not a research wing."
The dragon's echo in his soul stirred, a faint, ancient whisper of recognition. It knew this kind of energy. The energy of a prison.
He met Chloe's cold, gray eyes, his own wide with a dawning, terrible realization.
"It was a disposal site," he said, the words a quiet, chilling finality.
"A dumping ground for the experiments that were too unstable, too monstrous, even for Project Chimera."
He took a slow, shaky breath.
"The security system isn't our biggest problem."
"The prisoners are."
The warehouse was a hive of quiet, focused activity.
