Long-press a paragraph to send danmaku
"Move!" Ivy kicked the safe-house door shut behind her and Ash, then threw the dead bolt.
Three floors up. No elevator. Windows painted black.
If Marcus's people had followed them from the tunnel, they'd be here any second.
Ash staggered into the wall. Blood ran from his jaw to his collar.
"Are we seriously doing this?" he panted. "We just ran from our own team."
"They're not our team."
"They wear the same patch."
"They're Marcus's people. That's different."
Ivy crossed the room and yanked open the kitchenette fridge. Empty. Except for a six-pack of beer with an expiration date from two years ago.
Perfect.
She grabbed one, twisted off the cap with her left hand, and took a swallow. It tasted like metal and bad decisions.
Her right hand twitched under her sleeve.
The rune pulsed hot against her skin.
Ash noticed. Of course he did.
"He's gonna kill us," he said.
"Yeah. Probably."
"That doesn't bother you?"
"I'm working on it."
She took another drink and set the bottle down before her hand could shake it loose.
Ash pushed away from the wall. His vest hung open, the tracker module dangling from the wires she'd ripped out in the tunnel.
He looked too young in the dim light. Too clean around the eyes.
He hadn't been there three years ago.
He didn't know what Marcus did to people who became inconvenient.
"Zero said the fire was deliberate," Ash said. "He said Marcus wanted your whole team dead before you found out about Genesis."
"I heard him."
"Do you believe him?"
Ivy planted both palms on the counter. The rune flared beneath her right sleeve, answering the question for her.
"I believe Marcus has lied to me for three years," she said. "I believe my team got turned into those things, and nobody bothered to tell me."
Ash's eyes dropped to her arm.
"And I believe this isn't some miracle they grafted onto me to save my life."
She shoved the sleeve back.
Black lines coiled from her wrist to her elbow, edged in angry red. They pulsed with a slow, ugly rhythm.
"It's a prototype," she said. "We're the field test."
Ash swallowed. "It's spreading."
"I know."
"How long do you have?"
"Don't ask questions you don't want answered."
"Ivy."
"I don't know."
The truth sat between them, sharp enough to cut.
The rune wanted to be used. Every hour she kept it quiet, it dug deeper. Back in the tunnel, she'd nearly put a bullet through Zero's skull because the thing under her skin had decided he was a threat.
Not because she wanted him dead.
Because it did.
Her phone buzzed on the counter.
Ash froze.
"Tell me that's not Marcus," he whispered.
Ivy picked up the phone. Unknown number.
"You want me to answer?" she asked.
"No."
"Good."
She tapped the screen and put the call on speaker.
"Ivy." Marcus sounded calm. Almost gentle. "We need to talk."
Ash's face drained of color.
Ivy leaned back against the counter and forced her voice flat. "About what? Burning my team? Turning them into lab rats? Or using me as a walking weapons demo?"
For three seconds, Marcus said nothing.
Then he sighed.
"Zero got to you. I was hoping we'd find him first."
"He told me everything."
"He told you his version."
"He told me the part where you murdered everyone."
"I contained a breach."
"Cute phrase. Try again."
Marcus's voice lost its warmth. "Your team found files they weren't cleared to see. They were going to expose Genesis and destroy the operation. I had to make a call."
"You killed them."
"And I saved you."
The rune crawled up her forearm.
Heat burned beneath her sleeve, then vanished under her shoulder.
Ivy gripped the counter until the old wood creaked.
"You didn't save me," she said. "You made me into one of your weapons."
"You're not a weapon."
"Then what am I?"
A pause.
"A solution."
Ash mouthed, Don't listen.
Marcus continued. "The bioweapons failed. They were unstable and aggressive. Zero and the others are degrading fast. But you? You're still yourself. Still in control."
"Mostly," Ivy snapped.
"That's what Genesis was built to achieve. A fusion that doesn't cost humanity."
"Bullshit."
The word came out hard.
Her voice still shook.
Marcus heard it. He always heard everything.
"You know I'm right," he said. "You can feel the difference between yourself and them."
Ivy glanced at the red-black rune.
It pulsed once.
"I can feel you lying."
"Come in, Ivy. Let me show you the real data. I'll prove what Genesis can do."
"Why? So you can put a bullet in me while I'm reading?"
"If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead."
That landed harder than it should've.
Marcus had been able to find her for three years. He'd known where she slept, where she trained, which safe houses she used.
He could've ended this whenever he wanted.
So what did he need her for?
"Where?" she asked.
Ash shook his head so hard his injured jaw tightened.
Marcus answered at once. "The old depot. East Waterfront. One hour. Just you. Leave the rookie."
"He comes with me."
"Ivy—"
"He comes, or I don't."
The line went silent again.
Ash leaned close. "Don't bargain with him."
"I'm not bargaining. I'm making terms."
"You don't have terms. He owns the building, the guns, and your medical file."
"Thanks for the pep talk."
Marcus exhaled through his nose. "Fine. Bring him. But if either of you walks in armed, my people will drop you before you reach the main floor."
"Sounds welcoming."
"This is a conversation, Ivy. Not a fight."
"You burned my team. Forgive me if I don't trust your definition of conversation."
"Come alone enough to listen. That's all I'm asking."
"And if I say no?"
His voice softened. "Then the rune keeps spreading. You know what happens next."
Ivy's fingers went numb.
Marcus continued, "One hour. Don't make me come get you."
The call ended.
The safe house felt smaller with the silence back.
Ash stared at the dead screen. "You're not going."
"I am."
"It's a trap."
"Obviously."
"Then why the hell are you agreeing to it?"
Ivy finished the beer and set the bottle down with care.
"Because he's got answers."
"He has bullets."
"He also has the only way to stop this thing before it eats through my nervous system."
Ash's mouth tightened. "Or he puts a round in your head the second you step inside."
"Maybe."
She pulled on her jacket and checked the rune.
The lines had faded to a low simmer.
Waiting.
"But I'm done running on half a story," she said. "If Marcus wanted me dead, he had three years to do it. He wants something else."
Ash snatched up his vest and started re-clipping the pouches.
"This is insane."
"Yep."
"That's it? Yep?"
"You want a speech?"
"I want you to admit this plan sucks."
"It sucks."
"And it's dangerous."
"Very."
"And we're probably walking into a kill box."
"Now you're getting it."
Ash shoved the last pouch closed. "If he tries anything—"
"You shoot him."
He stopped.
Ivy met his eyes.
"I'm serious," she said. "If this goes bad, don't wait for me. Don't ask permission. You put him down."
"What about you?"
"You don't hesitate."
"Ivy—"
"Say you understand."
His jaw worked. "I understand."
"Good."
She reached for the door.
Her phone buzzed again.
Not Marcus this time.
Unknown number.
Ivy looked at Ash. "You expecting fan mail?"
"No."
She opened the message.
DON'T TRUST HIM. HE'S STALLING. THE DEPOT IS A KILL BOX.
Ash moved beside her. His shoulder brushed hers as he read over it.
Warmth pressed through two layers of fabric.
He smelled like dust, gun oil, and the cheap soap from the tunnel's emergency wash station.
For half a second, neither of them moved.
Then Ash said, "Who sent that?"
"Unknown number."
"Can you trace it?"
"Give me a minute."
A second message arrived before she could try.
This one had a photo attached.
The image loaded slowly.
An old government ID badge. Cracked laminate. Grainy picture. A name Ivy hadn't seen in six years.
Her fingers locked around the phone.
Ash leaned closer. "Ivy?"
She couldn't answer.
The girl in the photograph was sixteen, grinning at the camera like she'd just won a contest.
Lily Crowe.
Her little sister.
Dead six years ago.
Training accident, they'd said. Drowned during a water-survival drill.
But the badge had Genesis Project printed across the top.
And the issue date was two months before Lily died.
Ash's breath caught beside her.
"Who is that?" he asked.
Ivy's grip tightened until the cracked plastic dug into her palm.
Another message appeared.
SHE DIDN'T DROWN.
A second line followed.
HE USED HER FIRST. COME ALONE OR HE'LL BURY THE PROOF.
The rune ignited.
Pain ripped up Ivy's arm and across her chest. She slammed her palm into the doorframe.
Wood split under the impact.
Ash grabbed her shoulder. "Ivy!"
"Don't touch me!"
She tore away from him, breathing through clenched teeth.
The rune blazed red beneath her sleeve. Black lines stretched past her elbow, reaching higher.
It knew.
It knew she was going to aim it at Marcus.
And it was hungry.
"Ivy, look at me."
"Back off."
"You're burning up."
"I said back off!"
Ash stopped with his hand half-raised.
His eyes stayed on her face. Worried. Furious. Too close.
Ivy could feel his breath against the side of her cheek.
For one charged second, the pain and the heat tangled together.
Then she forced the rune down.
Inch by inch.
The red glow shrank beneath her skin. The black lines pulled back to her forearm, coiling there like a chained animal.
Ash's hand lowered.
"What did the message say?" he asked.
Ivy looked at Lily's picture again.
Sixteen years old. Smiling. Alive.
"Change of plans."
"That wasn't an answer."
She slid the phone into her pocket. "We're going to the depot."
Ash stared at her. "You just said it was a kill box."
"It is."
"Then why are we going?"
Ivy pulled her gun from the back of her waistband and checked the magazine.
"We're not going in unarmed."
"Marcus said—"
"Marcus can say whatever he wants."
She tossed him a spare magazine.
He caught it, but his eyes stayed on her.
"Who was in the photo?"
"Nobody you need to worry about."
"Ivy."
"Drop it."
"If we're walking into a kill box together, I need to know what just set your arm on fire."
She stepped in until only a breath separated them.
Ash went still.
"You need to know how to keep your weapon steady," she said. "You don't need to know everything I lost."
His gaze dipped to her mouth, then snapped back to her eyes.
The pause hit harder than the argument.
Ivy felt the heat of him through his vest. Felt the tension pull tight between them.
Then tires screamed below.
Both of them turned.
Ivy crossed to the black-painted window and scraped a narrow gap through the flaking paint.
Three black SUVs had stopped at the curb.
Doors opened.
Men climbed out wearing tactical gear and carrying rifles.
No markings.
No hesitation.
Marcus's cleaners.
Ash swore. "How did they find us?"
"Later. Move."
"Front stairs?"
"They're already covering them."
A rifle barrel appeared between the buildings below.
Ivy ducked.
The first shot punched through the painted glass.
Ash grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the rear hall.
"Back door!" Ivy shouted.
Boots thundered up the stairwell.
Too fast.
They'd been inside the building before the SUVs arrived.
Ivy reached the service exit and slammed her hand against the push bar.
The rune flared.
The lock clicked.
On the other side, someone whispered, "Ivy Crowe?"
Ash raised his gun.
Ivy stepped in front of him, fingers closing around the handle as the door began to open—