The gunshot echoed in the small, silent observatory. The bullet had gone through the floor-to-ceiling view glass, leaving a huge spiderweb crack on it. It wasn't the deafening blast of a rifle, but the clean, sharp crack of a finely tuned instrument.
Baron Calvin lowered the brass, custom-made pistol, a thin plume of smoke curling from its muzzle. He watched the main screen, where the monstrous bear, shot directly in the head, convulsed one last time before falling completely still.
"A simple, clean kill,"
the Baron said, a note of satisfaction in his voice.
"I despise clumsy failures."
Charlotte, the head scientist, let out a shaky breath of relief, her eyes darting between the monitors and the Baron.
"But... but sir, the test? We could have learned more from the full battle."
Baron Calvin merely smiled, a cold, predatory gesture. He placed the ornate pistol back on a velvet cushion on his desk.
"The test wasn't about the beast, Charlotte,"
he said, his gaze fixed on the feed of the children in the clearing.
"It was about them. About my assets."
He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap.
"I needed to see how far they would push themselves. I needed to see if Briar's emotion would be a benefit or a liability. She has proven to be very fascinating. But a dead asset is a useless asset, and I will not allow my hard work to be wasted."
Back in the clearing, the four children were frozen in place. The sound of the gunshot was a deafening crack that shattered the tension in the air. Their eyes scanned the trees, but they could see no one. The giant, reformed bear lay motionless on the ground, a single, precise bullet hole in the center of its forehead.
Suddenly, a hidden door in the rock face of the mountain slid open with a hiss of grinding gears and hissing steam, and a team of medical staff in pristine white uniforms rushed out, carrying two stretchers. They moved with purpose, immediately tending to Emmett and Briar.
The children watched in a mix of awe and bewilderment. They were still processing the events of the last hour when Baron Calvin and Charlotte emerged from the same hidden door. The Baron's presence commanded attention; he moved with a calm confidence that was unnerving.
"You all did well,"
the Baron said, his voice carrying clearly across the clearing. His eyes, however, were fixed on Rhys, who was still holding the body of the cub.
"And the main objective? Did you complete it?"
Rhys looked down at the cub, then back at the Baron. He presented the carcass.
"We brought back the cub."
A cold, quizzical look came over the Baron's face.
"And why is it dead?"
Corbin stepped forward, his expression serene and collected, a stark contrast to the fear on the faces of his peers.
"You never told us to bring it back alive,"
he said, his voice devoid of emotion.
"And besides, bringing it back alive would have been a waste of energy that could be used for other purposes."
Baron Calvin's cold face broke into a wide, predatory grin. He let out a low, satisfied chuckle.
"I like the way you think, Corbin."
He turned back to the medical staff.
"Get the injured boy and the girl with the mark back to the lab. They need to be fully recovered for our meeting in a few days."
He then turned to Charlotte.
"Show the others to their new living quarters. They've earned a bit of comfort."
Charlotte led the four children back toward the manor. As they walked, she explained that the laboratory was actually located far below Reed Manor, and the entrance was hidden by intricate steam-powered mechanisms.
She took them through ornate, wood-paneled corridors adorned with brass fittings. She led them to a separate wing of the grand manor that had been specifically prepared for them.
The wing was a testament to luxury, with a comfortable living room featuring plush, leather-bound armchairs and a heavy, dark wood table. A large, clunky box-style television, encased in an ornate brass frame, sat prominently in one corner. There was a modern kitchenette, cleverly designed to blend industrial-era aesthetics with functionality, and six individual rooms, each with its own charm.
"There are clothes in your rooms,"
Charlotte said, her voice softer than it had been in the lab.
"When you're done, please be sure to return the battlesuits to the lab."
The four children found their rooms and spent the rest of the day in a state of stunned relief.
They changed out of their torn battlesuits and into comfortable clothes, marvelling at the strange yet elegant surroundings. They ate, watched the flickering images on the antique-style television, and simply enjoyed the silence.
But as the others settled down, Corbin remained in his room. He stared out the window at the numerous houses and buildings of the city of Reed (which Baron Calvin ruled), his expression still calm. He was relieved that the tests were over, but a profound sense of wariness remained.
He had faced the monstrous bear, but the one who had truly terrified him was the man who smiled at the sight of it all—the Baron. And he knew, with a certainty that chilled him to the bone, that the true tests were only just beginning.