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Eastern Arcology looms like a monolith against the dawn sky. Unlike the sleek curves of Central, this structure is all sharp angles and imposing walls. Unity's philosophy made physical. No beauty, only function.

"Charming place," Vex mutters as we approach the maintenance access point. "Very inviting."

Our transport is hidden two kilometers back, concealed in the ruins of what was once a shopping complex. We've covered the remaining distance on foot, using the broken terrain for cover.

"Security checkpoint ahead," Trent warns, scanning with specialized binoculars. "Two guards, standard rotation."

I study the access tube that will be our entry point—a drainage conduit extending from the arcology's lower levels, designed to channel waste water into processing facilities. Hardly glamorous, but Elle's intelligence confirmed it's our best option for undetected entry.

"They've upgraded the sensor grid," I note, spotting the telltale shimmer of new surveillance technology. "Motion and thermal detection."

"Can you bypass it?" Vex asks Trent .

Trent nods, already retrieving equipment from his pack. "Give me three minutes."

As he works, I take inventory of my body's condition. The suppression compound has almost completely cleared my system. My modifications respond readily now, senses sharp, muscles primed. I feel strong, balanced.

Whole.

"How's the predator adaptation?" I ask Vex quietly.

His amber eyes catch the early light. "Fully responsive. Unity's suppressants weren't designed for my specific modifications."

"That’s lucky.”

His mouth quirks. "Your mother's design is proving far more resilient than standard modifications. You recovered faster than anyone expected, Flutterby."

Good to know.

"Security grid neutralized," Trent announces, returning to our position. "Seven-minute window before automatic reset."

"Move," Vex says simply.

We sprint across the exposed ground to the drainage tube, keeping low. The opening is larger than it appeared from a distance—big enough to enter upright, though the stench makes me wish otherwise.

"Ladies first?" Vex offers with mock gallantry.

"Age before beauty," I counter.

Trent rolls his eyes at both of us. "I'll take point. Zara center, Vex rear."

We enter in this formation, activating low-light vision enhancements as the tunnel darkens.

The passage slopes gradually upward, carrying us deeper into Eastern Arcology's infrastructure.

The walls glisten with moisture, and something squelches beneath our boots that I choose not to think about. Gross.

"Maintenance checkpoint in fifty meters," Trent's voice comes softly from ahead. "Access panel will require override. "

"Got it," I confirm, fingering the data chip Elle provided.

We reach the checkpoint, a sealed barrier with electronic lock panel. I insert the chip, watching as it cycles through override sequences. After a tense moment, the lock flashes green and the barrier slides open.

"We're in," I whisper.

Beyond the checkpoint, the tunnel transitions to a maintenance shaft—still utilitarian but drier and marginally less disgusting. Dim emergency lighting casts long shadows as we proceed.

"Medical Division is seven levels up," Trent says, consulting the schematics on his handheld. "Isolation Unit 7 on the northeastern quadrant."

"Service lift or maintenance ladders?" I ask.

"Ladders," Vex decides. "Lifts have biometric security."

We locate the access shaft—a narrow vertical tube with metal rungs embedded in the wall, extending upward into darkness.

Trent goes first again, climbing with silent efficiency.

I follow, increasingly aware of Vex below me, his eyes undoubtedly having an excellent view of my backside.

The thought brings unexpected heat to my cheeks.

Focus, Zara. Mission priority.

Seven levels of climbing later, muscles pleasantly taxed but not strained thanks to my enhanced strength, we reach the access point for Medical Division. Trent pauses, head cocked, listening.

"Two personnel approaching," he whispers. "Standard medical staff based on footsteps."

We press against the shaft wall, minimizing our profile as voices pass outside the thin maintenance door.

"—still showing anomalous readings in the frontal lobe," a female voice reports.

"Increase the suppression dosage," a male voice responds. "Director wants the subject stable for transport tomorrow."

"Transport to Primary Research already approved? "

"Priority order from Command. The Thorne subject's escape accelerated the timeline."

The voices fade as they move away. We exchange glances, the implications clear.

"They're moving the Haven child tomorrow," I whisper. "Our window is closing."

"Change of plan," Trent decides. "We go now, during shift rotation. Less personnel on the floor."

I check the time—0630, precisely when Elle's intelligence indicated shift change would begin. Perfect.

Trent eases the maintenance door open, scanning the corridor beyond. "Clear."

We slip into the medical wing, immediately assaulted by the distinctive scent of Unity medical facilities: antiseptic, filtered air, the subtle chemical undertones of supression compounds. My enhanced senses catalog these automatically, filing them as potential threats.

The corridor is sterile white, identical to medical wings in every arcology. We navigate by following the schematics on Trent's handheld, moving with practiced stealth. My training engages automatically—checking corners, noting camera positions, identifying potential extraction routes.

"Security checkpoint," Vex warns as we approach an intersection.

We press into a recessed doorway as a Unity security officer passes, oblivious to our presence. Once clear, we continue toward the northeastern quadrant where Isolation Units are located.

"Identification," I whisper, pointing to a sign. "Isolation Units ahead. Restricted access."

The corridor beyond requires security clearance. Trent produces another device from his equipment—a scanner designed to duplicate credentials from previous users.

"Last user was Chief Medical Officer Davis," he says as the device compiles the data. "Level 5 clearance. "

"That will work," I confirm.

Credential duplicated, we pass through the security checkpoint into the restricted area. The atmosphere shifts subtly—more cameras, reinforced doors, monitoring stations at regular intervals. This isn't just a medical wing; it's a containment zone.

"Unit 7 should be three doors down on the left," Trent murmurs, checking the schematics.

I retrieve the genetic marker detector Elle gave me, activating it with a subtle press. The device hums softly in my palm as we approach Unit 7.

"Confirmation," I whisper as the detector glows. "Haven child signature detected."

Vex takes position as lookout while Trent and I approach the door. Another security panel requires clearance. Trent applies the duplicated credentials, and the lock disengages with a soft click.

The door slides open to reveal a standard isolation chamber—medical bed, monitoring equipment, featureless white walls. And on the bed, secured with restraints despite their obvious youth, is a child.

A girl, perhaps twelve years old, with pale skin and dark hair in disarray. Her eyes are closed, face tense even in apparent sleep. IV tubes run from her arms to machines similar to those used on me at the research facility.

"Suppression protocol active," Trent notes, examining the equipment. "Heavy dosage for someone her size."

I approach carefully, heart aching at the sight of her restraints. "Hey," I say softly. "Can you hear me?"

Her eyelids flutter but don't open.

"We need to disconnect her carefully," Trent says, already examining the medical equipment. "Sudden withdrawal could shock her system."

I place a gentle hand on the girl's arm, and her eyes snap open immediately. They're startlingly silver—not gray, but actual metallic silver, with the same reflective quality Vex's eyes have.

"It's okay," I reassure her quickly. "We're here to help. To get you out."

Her silver eyes track between Trent and me, confusion evident. When she speaks, her voice is raspy from disuse.

"Who...are you?"

"My name is Zara Thorne," I tell her, working on her restraints. "Like you, I'm a child of Haven."

Recognition flashes across her face. "The...first one."

"Yes. And you are?"

"Lily," she whispers. "Lily Reeves."

Trent works efficiently to disconnect the monitoring equipment without triggering alarms. "Can you move, Lily?" he asks.

She nods weakly. "They...suppress the changes. Make me slow."

"I know exactly how that feels," I tell her with grim sympathy. "But we're getting you out of here. Right now."

As the last restraint releases, Vex appears in the doorway. "Movement in the corridor," he warns. "Medical team approaching."

"Time to go," Trent decides, helping Lily sit up.

The girl sways, obviously weakened by the suppression compounds. Without hesitation, Vex moves to her side and lifts her effortlessly into his arms.

"I've got her," he says. "Lead the way."

We exit the isolation unit, moving quickly but carefully back toward the maintenance access. Lily's silver eyes dart around, taking in everything despite her drugged state.

"Three personnel at the security station," Trent warns as we approach the checkpoint. "We need a diversion."

I spot an emergency fire control panel on the wall. "Cover me."

With a quick movement, I access the panel and trigger a localized alarm in an adjacent section. Almost immediately, two of the three personnel abandon their posts to investigate.

"Now," I whisper.

We slip past the distracted remaining guard, Vex carrying Lily as if she weighs nothing. The maintenance door is just ahead when Lily suddenly tenses.

"Behind us," she warns, voice stronger than before.

I turn to see a security team rounding the corner, weapons drawn. We've been detected.

"Run!" Trent shouts, dropping all pretense of stealth.