Dr. Evelyn Cross hated being ignored.
She wasn't used to it—people usually scrambled when she spoke. Even the NeoGeneX board, bloated and useless as they were, knew better than to cross her. But Harbinger… Harbinger wasn't people. He wasn't a board member she could outmaneuver or a subordinate she could crush under paperwork.
He was something she had built, perfected, unleashed. And now he looked at her as though she were a bee buzzing in his ear.
The lab was dark except for the pale glow of containment screens. Harbinger stood in the center of the chamber, motionless except for the faint ripple of energy that bled off his frame. He'd returned from the skate park fight hours ago, silent and… smiling.
Cross hated that smile.
"You engaged Patient Zero," she said, her voice cold enough to frost steel. "Directly. Without authorization. Explain yourself."
Harbinger tilted his head. His voice, when it came, was deep and distorted, like a storm funneling through broken glass.
"He called me."
Cross's stomach tightened, though she refused to show it. "Zeke doesn't control you."
Harbinger's eyes glowed faint crimson. "Not control. Tether. You engineered it, Doctor. You carved me out of him. He is the echo in my blood."
Cross stepped forward, heels sharp against the metal floor. "You exist because of me. You fight because of me. Don't confuse biology with loyalty."
Harbinger's smile widened, slow and terrible. "And yet when I felt him… I chose to answer."
The chamber's lights flickered. Cross's nails dug into her palm until they almost broke skin. Control was slipping, and she despised the sensation.
"Your purpose," she said, forcing her voice steady, "is to neutralize Patient Zero. Not indulge in your instincts."
For a long moment, Harbinger just stared at her. Then, deliberately, he turned his back and began walking toward the containment shadows.
As though she didn't matter.
As though she were irrelevant.
Cross felt her composure crack for the first time in years.
Zara enters.
"Yikes," Zara's voice drawled from the mezzanine above. "That went well."
Cross's head snapped up. "You weren't summoned."
Zara lounged against the railing, arms crossed, smirk practically glowing in the dim light. "Yeah, but I was bored. And watching Daddy's Favorite Science Project give you the cold shoulder? Worth sneaking past three levels of security."
Cross's glare could have killed a lesser woman. "You will regret this interruption."
"Oh, I already regret working for you," Zara shot back, hopping down from the mezzanine with catlike grace. She landed near Harbinger, who didn't so much as flinch. "At least he's interesting."
Cross ignored the jab, but her focus shifted sharply. "What do you mean, interesting?"
Zara circled Harbinger slowly, eyes narrowed. "I mean he's not your puppet. You can dress him in armor and call him your masterpiece, but he's not singing your tune. He's singing Zeke's."
Harbinger turned his head slightly, eyes glinting at her. For a fleeting second, something like acknowledgment passed between them. Predators recognizing each other.
Zara smirked wider. "See? He likes me."
Cross stepped forward, her voice like a scalpel. "He doesn't like anyone. He tolerates you because you're irrelevant."
Zara's laugh was sharp and unkind. "Funny. You sound jealous."
Cross's hand twitched, tempted to wipe that smile from Zara's face with something more permanent than words. But she restrained herself. Barely.
"Leave," she said, each syllable ice. "Before I decide to reclassify you as expendable."
Zara gave an exaggerated bow. "Expendable? Please. Without me, who's going to keep Zeke off-balance while your monster here plays peekaboo?"
Then she was gone, melting back into the shadows like smoke.
Cross stood there, fists clenched, rage burning beneath her skin.
The Fracture Spreads
Later, alone in her office, Cross stared at Harbinger's mission logs. The data confirmed what she already knew: every spike in Harbinger's vitals matched one in Zeke's. The tether wasn't just real—it was growing stronger with each encounter.
If she didn't find a way to sever it, Harbinger wouldn't remain hers for long.
And if Harbinger slipped from her grasp completely…
Cross touched the edge of her desk, grounding herself. No. She wouldn't let that happen. She hadn't clawed her way through decades of failures, betrayals, and incompetence to be outplayed by her own creation.
But even she couldn't ignore the truth:
The leash was slipping.
And for the first time in her career, Dr. Evelyn Cross realized she might be the one standing in the line of fire.