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“Thirty seconds,” Alex mutters, his fingers poised over the keyboard. “Everyone stays quiet once we're in. No sudden movements, no distractions.”

I'm surrounded by them now. Oscar holding my hand, Z at my shoulder, Talon hovering nearby, Alex leading us into the digital battle. Four men who have become my lifeline, my protection, my...everything.

“Ten seconds.”

My heart pounds so loudly I'm certain everyone can hear it. The countdown reaches zero, and Alex hits enter with a deafening click.

The screen flickers, then resolves into an elegant black interface with gold trim. A stylized logo pulses at the center—two intertwined serpents forming an infinity symbol. The Collector's mark.

"We're in," Alex breathes.

A welcome message scrolls across the top: “Mr. Blackwood, we're pleased to have you join us again.”

“They recognize the alias,” Talon comments.

Alex nods. “That's good. Means we're properly authenticated.”

A list of available lots appears on the left side of the screen, each with a brief description and starting bid. I scan frantically until I find Lot 27.

“There,” I declare.

The starting bid makes my stomach drop. Five million dollars for my brother's...I can't even finish the thought without feeling ill.

“Focus,” Alex commands, clicking on the lot to bring up more details. A timer appears, showing the auction for this specific item begins in three minutes. “We need to be strategic here. Bid too aggressively, we'll attract attention. Too conservative, we lose him.”

“Can we afford it?”

Oscar's thumb continues its soothing circles on my palm. “Yes,” he says simply. “Whatever it takes.”

A chat window pops up in the corner of the screen, a message appearing in elegant script.

Welcome, valued patrons. Today's offerings are particularly exceptional. We hope you find what you're seeking.

The clinical politeness makes bile rise in my throat. These people are selling my brother. I swallow hard, fighting to maintain my composure.

“How many other bidders?” Z asks, his voice tight with controlled rage.

Alex navigates through the interface, pulling up a participant list. “Twenty-three active connections, including us.”

“Twenty-three people willing to pay millions for...” Oscar doesn't finish, his jaw clenching.

“Considering what you paid for me…” I trail off.

“One minute until our lot opens,” Talon announces.

My heart hammers against my ribs as Alex positions the cursor over the bidding field, ready to submit our first offer. The screen refreshes, and Lot 27 is active, the description expanded to include more details.

Male specimen, 23 years old, exceptional bloodline, untouched condition. Genetic testing confirms superior traits. Sample viability guaranteed for 24 months under proper storage conditions.

A small icon pulsates next to the description—a video preview. Alex hovers over it, looking to me for permission.

“Do it.”

He clicks, and a brief clip begins to play—clinical footage of a lab technician holding up a vial to the light, examining its contents. The camera pans to show a small label on the container, bearing a barcode and an identification number: LR-0723.

LR. Luca Rossi.

My knees nearly buckle. Z's grip on my shoulders tightens, keeping me upright as a strangled sound escapes my throat.