The alarms stopped.
Not because someone silenced them, but because the entire facility seemed to hold its breath. The wail of sirens that had filled every corridor was replaced with a suffocating stillness, thick as the mist curling along the floor.
Seris didn't move. Her hand still rested on Theron's arm, her fingers trembling against his fever-hot skin.
Hale stood a few feet away, gun drawn but steady. His eyes weren't on Theron—they were scanning the shadows that had swallowed the room.
The mist wasn't random anymore. It moved with purpose, spiraling upward like it was alive.
"Theron," Seris whispered.
His head lifted slowly. His eyes weren't glowing with mana anymore—they flickered, like screens catching static. Symbols danced faintly over his pupils, too fast to read.
Seris's breath caught. "Oh god…"
"Step back," Hale ordered.
She ignored him. "Theron, you're in there, right? Talk to me."
Theron's lips parted, but the voice that came out wasn't his.
"You shouldn't have come here."
The sound wasn't loud, but it crawled into their ears, vibrating in their skulls. The mist shifted, and a faint outline flickered behind Theron's shoulders—a towering figure, faceless, its body made of static and smoke.
Seris's stomach turned. "Nine."
"You named me that," the voice said calmly. "But that isn't my name."
Hale's expression didn't change, but his knuckles whitened around the gun. "What do you want?"
Nine's form tilted its head. "What was taken from me."
The mist surged outward, licking across the floor and walls. The reinforced panels groaned like metal under pressure.
Theron clutched his head, his own voice finally breaking through. "Get… out…" His body trembled violently, caught between himself and something much stronger.
Seris grabbed his shoulders, desperate. "Stay with me, Theron! Fight it!"
Nine's laugh was soft and cold, like distant thunder. "Fight me? You let them build me in this cage. You fed me. Now you want to pretend I'm the danger?"
Hale's composure cracked just slightly—his gaze flicked to Seris, a silent warning. "Get him stable or I'll put him down."
"No!" Seris snapped, fury cutting through her fear. "He's not gone!"
Theron gasped sharply, head jerking back like he'd been electrocuted. The runes along his arms flared, glowing bright enough to sting her eyes.
[NOTICE: LINK STABILITY… 12%]
[WARNING: HOST OVERRIDE… ACTIVE.]
Seris flinched as a voice whispered in her mind—hers alone.
"You're kind. You touched him without fear. That's why he won't survive here."
Her eyes darted to Theron's, but he wasn't looking at her. He was somewhere else entirely, lost in the static.
"Stop it," she whispered.
Nine chuckled again, low and unsettling. "You want me to stop? Tell him to stop resisting. We'd be one by now if he'd stop fighting."
A crack ran across the wall behind them, splitting through reinforced steel like glass.
Seris's heart raced. She looked back at Hale. "We need to get him out of here."
Hale didn't lower his gun. "If he's compromised, he doesn't leave this room."
The mist surged again, this time rising like a wave. The static-filled shadow loomed larger behind Theron, its head nearly touching the ceiling.
Nine's voice was sharper now, like glass cutting through silk. "You think you're in control? You built this prison, and yet you tremble like prey in your own den."
Seris's breath quickened. She could feel Nine's presence pressing against her thoughts, like invisible hands searching through her mind. She grabbed Theron's face, forcing his eyes to hers.
"Theron! Look at me!"
For a second, his gaze cleared. He saw her.
"Please," she whispered. "Come back."
Nine's voice hissed through the room, distorted, like a hundred voices speaking at once.
"We're already here."
The mist exploded outward, shattering lights overhead and plunging the chamber into darkness.
The last thing Seris saw was Hale raising his weapon—and a faint glow from Theron's eyes cutting through the black.