The moment Lucian pointed to the plaque—
PRIMARY ANCHOR – SUBJECT 07 – RESTRICTED
—every muscle in my body went still.
The air in the containment room felt colder than B6's hallway.
Thicker.
Like it remembered every scream, tremor, and collapse that had happened within these walls.
Rowan squeezed my sleeve so tightly he trembled.
"Elle… the Primary Anchor room…
that means—
that means Elliot was—
he was—"
Chandler put a hand on Rowan's back before he spiraled.
"Don't finish that sentence.
You don't know what they did inside yet."
But Rowan knew.
His voice faltered.
"…it wasn't for experiments.
It was for his instinct."
Horace stepped forward, angling his body protectively in front of mine.
"Elleanore.
Stay close.
There's no telling what they locked inside."
Lucian scanned the sealed door.
"The access level is higher than anything we've seen so far.
Even my root overrides aren't enough."
Chandler scowled.
"So how do we get in?"
Lucian hesitated.
"…Only the original subject's pheromone imprint can open it."
Rowan blinked.
"You mean Elliot's?"
Lucian shook his head slowly.
"No.
Anyone who shares his biological and pheromonal baseline at a 90% match."
Horace turned to me.
"Elleanore."
I felt the words like a cold weight settling into my stomach.
Sev whimpered behind us.
He pressed himself to my side again, trembling, as if he already knew what this room meant.
Len—
standing half-crouched in his restraints—
watched the sealed door with a look that wasn't fear.
It was anticipation.
The wrong kind.
The kind that meant he remembered something.
Or someone.
I whispered:
"This room…
Elliot went inside."
Lucian spoke quietly.
"He didn't just go inside.
He lived inside.
This room was built to contain his resonance.
His instinct spikes.
His breakdowns."
Rowan covered his mouth, choking back a sob.
"They isolated him…"
Chandler's jaw flexed in rage.
"Like a dog."
Horace exhaled tightly, eyes dark with anger.
Lucian's voice softened.
"Elleanore…
if Elliot's trail still exists,
if any recordings or logs survived…
they'll be in here."
I stepped toward the door—
but Sev grabbed my wrist with sudden force.
"Sev—?" Rowan gasped.
Sev shook his head rapidly.
"No… Elle… no—no—no—"
Len reacted too.
His bound hands jerked upward.
He leaned forward, breathing fast, eyes wide with panic at the sight of me near the door.
Lucian blinked.
"They don't want you going inside."
Chandler frowned.
"Why?"
Lucian's voice dropped.
"Because they remember what happened here."
A silence fell so heavy it hurt.
THE DOOR RESPONDS
Horace lifted his arm and brushed his fingers over the edge of the doorframe.
The metal vibrated softly under his touch.
Lucian's tablet lit up.
PROXIMITY DETECTED
MATCH: 83%
INSUFFICIENT
Chandler snorted bitterly.
"Yeah, definitely not her scent."
Horace shot him a look.
Chandler smirked.
Lucian pointed.
"Elleanore.
It's waiting for you."
My heart hammered in my chest.
Rowan tugged my sleeve.
"Elle…
I'll go with you.
I'll be right behind you."
Chandler moved to my other side.
"And no one touches you without losing a limb."
Horace stepped in front of me, then behind me, then beside me—
unable to decide which position would protect me better.
Lucian sighed.
"She'll be fine.
The door is scanning, not attacking."
Sev whimpered again, pressing his forehead lightly against my arm.
"Elle… no…"
Len echoed the movement, bowing his head low.
"…Elle… no go…"
Rowan's breath hitched.
"They're begging you not to open it…"
Lucian's eyes lowered.
"They're afraid of what's behind it.
But if we don't open it—
we'll never know what happened to Elliot."
A quiet tremor ran through me.
I lifted my hand.
Placed my palm on the scanner.
Beep.
A long, slow scan began.
Red light swept down the door,
then back up again.
MATCH: 93%
MATCH: 97%
MATCH CONFIRMED
Then:
ACCESS GRANTED
WELCOME BACK, PRIMARY SUBJECT
Rowan visibly flinched.
Chandler muttered:
"I f***ing hate this building."
Horace's jaw tightened.
Lucian whispered:
"She's not the Primary Subject.
But the system thinks she is."
I pulled my hand back just as—
the lock released.
And the door slid open with a rattling, metallic groan.
The cold air inside the chamber hit us first.
Followed by—
nothing.
A hollow, dead silence.
As if the room was holding its breath.
Horace stepped inside first.
Chandler followed.
Lucian checked the corners.
Rowan clung to my arm, trembling.
Sev clung to my other side.
Len stood at the threshold, unable to enter because of his restraints.
I swallowed.
Then stepped inside.
THE PRIMARY CHAMBER
The room wasn't large.
Just wide enough for a bed bolted to the floor.
A table.
A single overhead light.
Padded walls—
but not the kind used for safety.
The kind used for suppression.
Rowan's voice cracked:
"He… he lived here… alone…"
Chandler reached for the bedframe and froze.
"What… what the hell is this?"
Lucian hurried over.
"What did you find?"
Chandler pointed to faint lines scratched into the metal frame.
Lucian brought the tablet close, illuminating the carvings.
Rowan gasped.
I felt dizzy.
Because carved into the metal, in a shaky hand—
were words.
Dozens of them.
Some small.
Some frantic.
Some repeated over and over.
But one line—
scratched into the surface so deeply it had warped the metal—
made my heart stop.
"ELLE, DON'T COME DOWN HERE."
Rowan broke.
He fell to his knees beside the bedframe, fists pressed to his mouth.
"No—
no, no, no—
he was trying to warn you—"
Horace's hand trembled on my back.
Chandler looked away sharply, jaw clenched.
Lucian whispered:
"These were made…
during his final days on B6."
My throat burned.
"He…
He didn't want me to find him."
Lucian shook his head.
"No.
He didn't want you to be taken like he was."
Rowan sobbed, shoulders shaking.
"Elle…
he was terrified for you…"
I reached forward, fingers brushing the carved words.
The grooves were deep.
Jagged.
Desperate.
"He was trying to protect me."
Horace closed his eyes.
"Yes."
"And he failed."
"NO."
I hadn't realized Rowan had shouted until he grabbed my wrists.
"Elle—
he didn't fail—
he didn't—
you're alive—
you're here—
you're looking for him—
you're doing what he hoped you never had to—
you're proving he didn't fail you."
I shook.
Rowan pulled me into a tight, shaking embrace.
Chandler rested a hand on my shoulder.
Horace stepped closer, gently holding the back of my neck.
Lucian looked away, jaw tight with guilt he didn't voice.
Sev curled into my side, copying Rowan's trembling posture.
Len crawled toward the doorway and pressed his forehead to the floor in distress.
Then—
Lucian's tablet beeped sharply.
Chandler straightened.
Horace's posture shifted.
Rowan looked up through tears.
"What is it?"
Lucian stared at the screen, face draining of color.
"Elleanore…
there's something you haven't seen yet."
He turned the screen around.
A video file.
Dated.
Timestamped.
SUBJECT 07 — FINAL SESSION
B6 → B7 TRANSFER
Elliot Jan Fonze
Then Lucian whispered the part that made the air go still:
"This file was recorded the night Elliot disappeared."
The Last Recording
Lucian's fingers hovered over the screen.
The entire room felt like it stopped breathing.
Even Sev—
shivering, clinging to my sleeve like a terrified child—
went silent.
Len bowed his head so low his forehead touched the floor,
as if he recognized the timestamp
or the weight of the moment.
Rowan pressed himself against my side, whispering:
"Elle…
Are you sure you're ready…?"
I wasn't.
But I nodded anyway.
Chandler exhaled slowly, stepping in front of me like a shield.
Horace murmured toward Lucian:
"Play it."
Lucian swallowed, tapped the file—
And the room filled with static.
Faint.
Distorted.
Old.
Then—
A picture.
Grainy.
Flickering.
Like the security camera was barely functioning.
But enough to see him.
ELLIOT APPEARS
Elliot sat on the floor of this very room.
Back against the padded wall.
Wrists unbound but bruised.
Hair shaved unevenly.
Dark circles under his eyes.
Clothes two sizes too big.
But alive.
My breath broke in my throat.
Rowan's knees buckled.
Chandler grabbed him by the back of his hoodie before he hit the floor.
Horace's hand gripped the back of my neck gently, grounding me as my legs went weak.
Lucian whispered:
"Elleanore…
he survived B5.
He made it to this room."
Elliot lifted his head on the screen.
Slowly.
Weakly.
His voice was barely audible over the static.
"…This is…
Subject Zero-Seven…"
Sev flinched violently.
His fingers dug into my sleeve.
Len whimpered softly from the floor.
Because they knew that voice intimately.
It was the one they were forced to echo.
Rowan sobbed quietly.
Chandler pressed a fist to his mouth, jaw tight.
Horace bowed his head.
Lucian's hand trembled as he steadied the tablet.
Elliot coughed.
The sound was awful—
deep, sharp, painful.
He wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, smearing it across the back of his hand.
My vision blurred.
He tried again.
"…If anyone…
gets this recording…"
He laughed, a small broken sound.
"…you won't.
They erase everything."
He looked up at the camera.
Directly.
Like he saw through the screen.
Through time.
Through the walls of the room.
His voice softened.
"…Elle…"
Rowan cried out.
Horace pulled me against his chest without hesitation—
stopping me from collapsing entirely.
Chandler's eyes went wide.
Lucian froze like the air had been knocked out of him.
Sev slammed a hand against his chest as if the sound hurt him.
Len curled inward, shaking violently.
Elliot whispered:
"…don't come for me."
Rowan screamed into his hands.
Lucian muttered something like "Oh my god."
Horace held me impossibly tight.
Chandler cursed softly under his breath.
Elliot looked down.
"…If you're alive…
If you made it out…
Don't come back here."
He let his head fall against the wall.
"They'll break you."
His voice shook.
"They broke me."
I clutched Horace's shirt, breath shaking.
Rowan slid to the floor, Chandler dropping beside him and gripping his shoulders.
Lucian covered his mouth, eyes glassy.
Sev crawled forward and pressed his forehead to the base of the bedframe, sobbing soundlessly.
Len trembled harder and whispered:
"…Elli…"
THE INTERFERENCE
Static flickered.
Elliot coughed again—
worse, harsher—
and blood hit the floor.
Horace's arms tightened around me.
Lucian whispered hoarsely:
"He was collapsing—
this was before the B7 transfer."
Rowan cried harder.
Chandler held his head down, steadying him.
Elliot tried to speak again.
"…Elle…
I'm sorry…"
Static roared—
then cleared suddenly.
A loud metal clang echoed through the feed.
Elliot's head jerked up.
He scrambled backward.
Terrified.
Someone outside the room was pounding on the door.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
Rowan flinched violently.
Chandler turned quick, instinctively shielding Rowan from the sound.
Horace pressed me into his chest, one hand shielding my head.
Lucian whispered:
"No…
not now…
not this part—"
Elliot's breathing quickened.
He backed into the corner.
Hands trembling.
Eyes wide and glassy.
"…no…
no… please—"
He curled inward.
The pounding continued.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
A distorted voice from outside the door shouted:
"Subject 07—prepare for Phase Three transfer."
Sev cried out—
a sound between a sob and a scream.
Len slammed his bound hands against the floor, shaking violently.
Rowan pressed his hands over his ears, shaking.
"STOP—
STOP—
TURN IT OFF—"
But the file kept playing.
Elliot shook harder.
His voice was a whisper.
"…Elle… run.
Run."
Static consumed the screen.
Then—
Darkness.
But not silence.
A voice—
much closer to the mic—
whispered:
"If she comes for him…
take her too."
Horace's entire body went still.
Chandler's head jerked up.
Lucian's tablet beeped a warning, like even it didn't want to continue.
Rowan choked on a breath.
"Elleanore—
Elle—
they were hunting you too—"
The file ended.
Silence.
No one moved.
Breathing was the only sound in the room—
ragged, trembling, painful.
Sev crawled toward the screen, whimpering Elliot's name.
Len curled against the doorframe, rocking in distress.
Rowan sobbed into Chandler's shoulder.
Lucian looked gutted, helpless.
Horace held me through it all, voice low and steady in my ear:
"Elleanore…
it wasn't your fault."
But that wasn't what broke me.
What broke me was that Elliot—
even bleeding, terrified, collapsing—
was still trying to protect me.
Still telling me not to come.
Still loving me when everything else was being torn from him.
And now—
Now there was no turning back.
I wiped my tears.
Straightened.
Looked at Horace, Chandler, Rowan.
At Sev and Len.
Then at Lucian.
"We're going to B7."
Horace nodded instantly.
Chandler stood.
Rowan took a shaky breath and wiped his face.
Lucian exhaled deeply.
Sev crawled to my feet.
Len lifted his bound hands toward me, silently asking permission to follow.
I gave it.
Because Elliot told me to run—
but I wasn't leaving him behind.
Not this time.
And not ever again.