The lab of the Licht des Lebens was an island of quiet, focused work. To the casual observer, Dr. Sophia Cohen was a picture of scientific frustration, staring intently at a stalled protein simulation. But in her lap, hidden beneath the lip of the console, was a small, dark datapad. Her eyes weren't on the main screen; they were fixed on the single, inert icon on the pad, the digital tripwire she had laid. She was not a scientist. She was a spider, waiting motionless in her web.
For two days, there was nothing. She began to wonder if she had been wrong, if the paranoia was getting to her.
Then, on the third day, the icon on her datapad silently began to pulse.
It was not a loud alarm. It was a slow, steady, rhythmic glow, like a calm, digital heartbeat. A heartbeat that signaled the presence of a viper in her nest. The alert was simple, elegant, and chilling. FILE ACCESSED: CURE_FORMULA_FINAL_THEORETICAL.dat TERMINAL ID: LAB_B7-LUKAS_REID. ACTION: FILE COPIED TO EXTERNAL DRIVE.
Lukas.
The name was a punch to the gut. Not a hardened security guard or a cynical senior researcher. Lukas Reid was the youngest member of their team, a brilliant, idealistic biochemist who idolized Professor Brandt and looked at Sophia with an expression of pure, unadulterated hero-worship. He was the last person she would have suspected. The perfect mole.
She didn't storm out. She didn't raise the alarm. She simply stood, walked to Professor Brandt's office, and showed him the pulsing icon on her datapad. The old professor's kind face seemed to age ten years in a single, silent moment.
They found Lukas in a quiet, secluded data archive, ostensibly collating research notes. He looked up as they entered, a bright, welcoming smile on his face that died the instant he saw the grim expressions on theirs.
"Lukas," Brandt said, his voice heavy with a sorrow that was more damning than any accusation. "Why?"
The young man's face went pale. "Professor, I... I don't know what you mean."
Sophia held up her datapad, displaying the access log. The digital evidence was absolute, irrefutable. "The file was a decoy, Lukas. A trap. And you walked right into it."
The fight went out of him in a single, shuddering wave. Lukas collapsed into a chair, his face crumbling, his body wracked with silent, convulsive sobs. "They have my family," he choked out, the words torn from him. "My wife... my little girl... they took them, right after I joined the Licht. They said if I didn't cooperate... if I didn't give them everything..."
His confession was a torrent of guilt and terror. He had been their unwilling spy from the very beginning, feeding the military every scrap of data, every conversation, every breakthrough.
"It's not just the data," he finally whispered, his eyes wide with a new, urgent terror. "There's more."
Sophia knelt in front of him, her anger forgotten, replaced by a cold, professional focus. "What more, Lukas? What did you tell them?"
"Everything," he cried. "The base location. The security protocols. They're coming, Sophia. A full-scale military assault. They're not just coming for the cure. They're coming for you."
He grabbed her arm, his fingers digging in with a desperate strength. "They know our defenses are strong. They know they need something that can get through, something to break us."
He took a ragged, shuddering breath, his eyes locking on hers, filled with a terrible, pitying horror.
"They're sending a new weapon to lead the charge. A new Tainted model, faster, stronger, more heavily modified than anything they've deployed before. They call it Project: Nemesis."
He squeezed his eyes shut, as if he couldn't bear to say the final words.
"Its designation," he whispered, the words a final, fatal blow. "Is Subject Zero-One. It's Anna. They're sending your sister to hunt you down."