Chapter 27: The Last Chamber

"There are prisons you break into because something inside demands to be seen."

District 10 had no name.

Not anymore.

Once the site of a sprawling logistics hub that connected Tokyo Area to the outer refugee zones, it was leveled during the Gastrea resurgence after the Aldebaran War. The monolith fragments still lay half-buried like grave markers, too radioactive to salvage, too dangerous to ignore.

Now, it was a ghost sector.

And somewhere in its dead heart was the last Chrysalis facility.

Not a lab. Not a factory.

A vault.

The road to it was mined.

Drones circled above like carrion birds, and anti-personnel turrets lined the only remaining perimeter fence. The Council had known this might be their final hand—and they were ready to kill anyone who reached for it.

But Rentarō wasn't anyone.

Neither were the people walking beside him.

Enju, silent and fierce, her red ribbon fluttering behind her like a banner of the fallen.

Hotaru, blade drawn, every movement precise as breath.

Kisara, one arm still wrapped from the confrontation in her HQ, her eyes never leaving the path ahead.

And Shōma—wounded, half-shadow, fully deadly.

Together, they cut through the outer ring in under eight minutes.

"We're in," Karasuma's voice crackled in over comms. He was watching from a remote drone hub outside the dead zone, guiding them with satellite feed. "Facility sits sixty meters underground. Reinforced plating. Bio-signature locks. They weren't expecting visitors, but this thing was never meant to be breached."

Rentarō smirked grimly. "Then it's time to do the impossible."

The entrance was hidden beneath the old water treatment plant.

They found it when Hotaru caught the scent of coolant—old, synthetic, masked by layers of dirt and rust. Enju's strength was enough to rip open the grate. What waited below was not a staircase, but a sealed shaft.

Rentarō dropped in first.

The others followed.

The descent was silent.

Unnatural.

And when they reached the chamber at the bottom, the silence broke.

The walls hummed.

Dozens of containment tanks lined the room—each holding a figure suspended in amber light. Not girls this time. Not soldiers.

Monsters.

Hybrid designs. Failures. Engineered weapons that never saw daylight.

Some with claws too large for their frames. Others with wings half-formed, bone pushing through synthetic skin. Children in shape only.

"This is what they kept," Kisara whispered. "The worst ones."

Shōma walked past a broken tank, his gaze locked on the internal report flickering on a nearby screen.

"Beta types. Not meant for field use. Just for study." He turned. "But there's more. Look."

Rentarō stepped up beside him.

The central chamber wasn't full of tanks.

It was a throne room.

At its center, suspended in gravity-lock, was her.

The girl from the first convoy.

The prototype.

Eyes closed.

Hands clasped.

Not dead.

Not asleep.

Waiting.

"Chrysalis Prime," Karasuma muttered over the comms. "This one's broadcasting signals. Low-frequency pulses. She's linked to something. Or someone."

Kisara moved forward slowly. "She wasn't just the first. She's the control unit."

Hotaru's grip tightened on her blade. "So if we take her out—?"

"No," Rentarō cut in. "We don't kill her."

Kisara turned, startled. "Why not?"

"Because someone's still using her," Rentarō said quietly. "Controlling her. And if we don't find out who, this whole operation resets somewhere else."

"She's not innocent," Shōma said.

"No," Rentarō agreed. "But she's not the enemy either. She's a message. A warning. We need to know what she knows."

Enju walked closer to the containment field. She tilted her head.

"She's… humming."

The others turned.

"What?"

"I can hear it," Enju said softly. "It's not a song. It's more like… a pattern. Repeating."

Rentarō stepped forward.

He placed his hand on the console.

The lights dimmed.

The girl's eyes opened.

Not white, this time.

Not blank.

Blue.

Human.

She blinked slowly. Her gaze found Rentarō. She tilted her head.

"You're not the handler."

"No," Rentarō said, calm but ready. "Who is?"

A pause.

Then:

"Designation classified. Control transferred two days ago. Current synchronization status: unstable."

Kisara's eyes narrowed. "That's why the signal is erratic. She doesn't trust her new controller."

Hotaru spoke quietly. "Then we have a chance."

The girl's lips parted slightly.

"...Rentarō Satomi. You destabilized core Site-9. You are identified as target. But logic subroutines are in conflict."

"Because I didn't kill you," Rentarō said.

She looked confused.

For a moment—just a moment—she looked lost.

"Why?"

"Because you didn't choose this."

Silence.

Then she whispered:

"I… dream."

A burst of static exploded through the chamber.

The containment field flickered.

Karasuma's voice came over the comms. "You've got inbound—multiple Council strike drones, high altitude. They're coming to wipe the site. They don't want her recovered."

Kisara growled. "Of course they're wiping their fingerprints."

Shōma unsheathed his blade.

"I'll hold them."

"No," Rentarō said sharply. "We're not splitting. We take her, and we run."

Enju moved to the field. "How do we move her?"

"She's not locked anymore," Kisara said, already working on the panel. "She's been unchained. Just… lost."

With a hiss, the containment collapsed.

The girl stepped out.

And stumbled.

Rentarō caught her.

She looked up at him. "I… remember you."

"I don't know your name," he said.

She hesitated.

Then, almost like it hurt—

"Renge."

Above them, the first explosions shook the ceiling.

Hotaru shouted, "Now or never!"

And with Renge held between them, they ran.

The vault trembled.

The Council struck from the sky.

But the ghosts who lived below?

They moved faster than thunder.