Chapter 58: Home Sweet Home

The jet touched down on the Virex HQ landing strip with a hiss of hydraulics and scorched air. Before the magnetic clamps had even finished locking in place, the side hatch yawned open—and Vranos was already storming down the ramp.

"Hey!" Elira called after him, jogging to the edge of the hatch. "We're supposed to report to Dray first!"

Vranos didn't even look back. "I didn't get any intel. Nothing to report."

Behind her, Fenrir stepped down onto the ramp, rubbing his jaw with theatrical flair. "That orgy can wait, Vranos. This is official business."

"File a report about my libido then," Vranos shot back, vanishing into the lobby.

Elira growled under her breath and turned to Fenrir, who gave her a lopsided grin. "We were bound to end up on someone's watchlist eventually."

Together, they made their way to the upper tower where Dray's office lay—fortified, soundproof, a sanctum of pure authority.

Inside, Brakka was finishing his debrief. Data shards clicked into the console as he slid across everything he'd collected from the rebel outposts. A short nod to Dray, a briefer glance at the other two, and Brakka was gone.

Now alone with Elira and Fenrir, Dray stood behind his desk, pale hands clasped behind his back.

"Drop the masks," he said simply.

Neither of them moved.

Dray's eyes narrowed. "There's no point in pretending. You've both awakened."

The silence deepened, heavy with unspoken truths. Elira tensed beside Fenrir, who took a step forward.

"We're not hiding anything," Fenrir said, low and even. "But we're not yours anymore."

"You always were," Dray replied, voice cutting through the air like static. "You were designed to serve. I don't care what evolution you think you've stumbled upon—it's still my system."

"You can keep pretending," Fenrir snapped, "but whatever leash you had? You're holding the broken end."

For a moment, Dray simply looked at them. A flash of something unreadable—concern or curiosity—passed through his features.

Then he waved his hand. "Go. Cool off. You're of no use to me burned out."

Dismissed.

Without another word, they turned and walked to the elevator. Elira's pulse still hadn't settled. Fenrir glanced sideways at her.

"You think he knows about the Pattern Core?"

"I don't think he knows how much he doesn't know," Elira muttered.

The elevator chimed.

They stepped inside. The glass door sealed behind them, and Fenrir tapped the command for their quarters.

But instead of ascending, the panel blinked red—and the elevator dropped.

Sub-Level 4.

Neither of them had ever been sent there.

Elira stiffened. Fenrir was already scanning for overrides.

As the doors opened, sterile white lights glared into their eyes, revealing a vast chamber lined with segmented columns.

They stepped forward—once.

And then—

SLAM.

Glass partitions dropped like guillotines, sealing them in separate cylindrical cells.

Elira slammed her palm against the barrier. "What the—?"

Fenrir growled, his arms already charging with light as he tested the walls.

A speaker crackled to life in the ceiling.

"Good day," came the Scientist's voice, calm and sharp as ever.

"Let's begin."