July 16, 2026 – Silas Varga's Ship05:35 AM
The single bullet from Thomas's rifle tore through the air and struck the metal railing right beside me. As sparks from the steel grazed my face, I saw Thomas's boat surging between us. My uncle wasn't shooting to kill; he was testing me. He had shattered the metal exactly at chest level, as if reminding me of the 15-year-old bullet lodged in my heart.
"Michael, get to the infirmary!" Silas Varga barked, pressing the radio on his shoulder. "The Reapers are boarding! Natalia and Elara are defenseless!"
With Silas's command, hell woke up on the deck. The sound of machine-gun fire blended with the screech of hooks latching onto metal. I stuffed the X-ray and the leather notebook into my bag and sprinted toward the lower deck, toward the infirmary.
As I ran through the corridor, I felt that stabbing pain in my chest more clearly than ever. Silas was right; I was carrying a piece of Thomas Hale inside me, right next to my heart. This bullet wasn't just a physical object; it was proof of how Thomas had "created" me.
I reached the infirmary and heard shouting from inside. I kicked the door open.
The scene inside was more devastating than the harbor explosion. Natalia lay on the floor, the bandage on her leg soaked with fresh blood, unconscious. Ivy was hunched over Elara in the corner, holding a syringe.
"Ivy! What are you doing?" I roared, leveling my gun at her.
Ivy turned to me slowly. The frantic passion I was used to seeing in her eyes was gone; there was only a cold, hollow surrender. "She was suffering, Michael... she was going through withdrawal. I had to comfort her."
I looked at Elara. My sister was in a deep sleep, but her face was pale as a ghost. I focused on the syringe in Ivy's hand. When I saw the small symbol on it, my blood ran cold. It was the mark of the specific "chemical shackle" produced in Thomas Hale's labs.
"Where did you get that?" I asked, my voice dropping to a whisper.
Ivy took a step toward the barrel of my gun. "Thomas planned everything at the harbor, Michael. Not just the ship. He planned your arrival, my help, and even Natalia's escape from Toronto... Do you really think Silas Varga being here is a coincidence? In Thomas's new world, justice and crime share the same dinner table."
At that exact moment, a massive tremor shook the lower decks. It wasn't a rocket this time. Silas Varga's ship was being split in half by an underwater submarine strike.