The rain hadn't stopped by morning. It pressed against the windows in endless sheets of silver, the kind of storm that made the whole world feel washed out and new.
Adrian hadn't slept. He stood at the edge of his study, shirt sleeves rolled up, coffee untouched, eyes locked on the computer monitor.
The word Erevos blinked back at him from a recovered archive file. The file had been encrypted three levels deep inside his father's private data vault — something no one should have been able to access but him.
The decryption timer ticked down.
Two minutes left.
Behind him, Lena stirred on the couch. She'd fallen asleep there sometime before dawn, still wrapped in the same blanket. Every few minutes, she would shift restlessly, murmuring things he couldn't quite make out.
He hated that he still noticed the curve of her face when she slept, the tiny sound of her breathing. Two years, and she still found a way to unmake him.
The computer chimed.
Access granted.
A folder opened — a single video file.
Adrian clicked play.
The screen flickered to life, showing his father — Richard Cole — seated at his old desk. The lighting was dim, his face drawn and tense.
> "If you're watching this," his father said, "then Erevos has already been compromised."
Adrian's breath caught.
> "They told me it was for medical advancement. But it's not. They want control — of the body, the mind, the code that makes us human. I tried to shut it down. They killed everyone who helped me."
Lena had woken now, standing quietly behind him. Her hand came to her lips as if to stop a sound.
> "Adrian," Richard continued, his eyes glancing off-screen. "There's something inside the data. Something alive. A sequence we couldn't destroy. If Lena finds you—"
Static swallowed the rest.
Adrian froze. The video glitched, then died completely.
Lena stepped closer. "He knew," she whispered. "He knew what they were doing."
Adrian turned slowly, jaw tightening. "You knew this existed?"
She shook her head. "No. But I knew he was trying to stop them. I think he sent me the same data before he died."
Her eyes darted toward her bag by the couch. She pulled out a small flash drive, silver and dented. "I've been carrying this since I ran. It's what they've been looking for."
Adrian took it carefully. "What's on it?"
"I'm not sure. I've never opened it. It's locked with your father's encryption key."
Adrian slid the drive into the computer. A password prompt appeared immediately, coded and complex.
He typed the same phrase he'd used before: Mother's birthday.
Access denied.
He frowned, tried another: Erevos.
Denied.
Then he saw something at the bottom corner of the prompt: 'Enter the name of what you fear most.'
His pulse slowed.
He hesitated only a second before typing: Failure.
The screen blinked once — then opened.
A flood of files appeared. Chemical formulas. Genetic diagrams. And one folder labeled "Subject Alpha."
Adrian clicked it open.
Inside were medical scans — an embryo, then a fetus. Each image bore the same initials.
L.R.
Lena gasped softly behind him. "That's… that's my file."
He looked up at her sharply. "You said you were one of the researchers."
"I was," she said, voice shaking. "But I didn't know they used me. My DNA—my pregnancy—wasn't an accident."
Adrian felt the floor tilt beneath him. "They engineered it."
She nodded slowly. "They said they needed a control subject. But I think they were trying to create something they couldn't replicate. Something… human."
The screen flashed again. A line of text scrolled across it:
> Subject Alpha — Code: The Heir
The next image loaded. A fetal scan dated eight months ago.
"Eight months…" Adrian whispered. "You're due soon."
Lena's eyes filled with tears. "That's why they won't stop, Adrian. The baby isn't just ours. It's proof of what they did. Proof they can manipulate life itself."
The door buzzer cut through the silence, harsh and sudden.
Both of them froze.
Adrian checked the security feed. A man stood in the lobby — early forties, soaked from the rain, wearing a dark trench coat. His ID card read Victor Dane – Federal Bureau of Investigation.
Lena tensed immediately. "Don't trust him."
Adrian frowned. "You know him?"
She nodded, stepping back. "He's not FBI. He worked for Erevos. He was the head of security."
Victor's face lifted toward the camera, expression unreadable. Then he spoke directly into the intercom.
> "Adrian Cole. We need to talk. It's about your father—and the woman you're hiding."
Lena's grip found Adrian's arm. "Please. Don't let him in."
Adrian stared at the screen, mind racing. If Victor was lying, this was a trap. If he was telling the truth, it might be the only way to learn what was really happening.
He turned to her. "Go to the back room. Now."
"Adrian—"
"Now."
She went, reluctantly, vanishing into the corridor.
Adrian pressed the intercom. "Come up."
The elevator whirred. The sound was too loud, too slow. When the doors finally opened, Victor stepped out, dripping rain onto the marble floor. He carried no weapon, at least none visible.
He looked around the penthouse, then met Adrian's gaze. "You look like your father."
Adrian didn't answer. "You said this was about him."
Victor nodded once. "Richard Cole didn't die of a heart attack. He was silenced."
Adrian's jaw clenched. "By who?"
Victor's eyes darkened. "By the same people who will kill you if you keep that woman here."
Behind them, somewhere in the hall, a faint creak of the floor.
Victor's eyes shifted. "She's here, isn't she?"
Adrian lifted the gun from his side drawer and pointed it directly at him.
"Say her name again, and I'll put a hole in your chest."
Victor didn't flinch. "You don't understand what's inside her. What she's carrying."
Adrian's grip tightened. "I don't care."
"You will," Victor said softly. "Because it's already changing her."
Adrian blinked. "What?"
Victor's gaze dropped briefly toward the hallway. "Check her pulse. Watch her eyes when she dreams. She's not just carrying your child, Mr. Cole. She's becoming what Erevos created."
The words hit like a blow.
For the first time, Adrian couldn't speak. The image of Lena sleeping restlessly on the couch flashed in his mind — the way her skin had flushed, the way her temperature burned against his hand.
Victor stepped closer. "There's still a way to save her. And the child. But you'll need to trust me."
Adrian stared at him, torn between instinct and reason.
Then, from the hallway, Lena's voice — weak, trembling.
"Adrian… something's wrong."
He spun toward her. She was leaning against the wall, one hand pressed to her stomach, her skin pale as snow.
Victor's expression didn't change. "It's starting."
Adrian caught her as she collapsed.
Her eyes fluttered open just long enough for him to hear her whisper, "They can hear us."
Then everything went dark.