Page 17

The scent of decay and abandonment filled my nostrils as I approached the facility.

Old memories stirred—the smell of sterile labs, of fear, of pain—but I pushed them aside.

This wasn’t about me or my past. This was about keeping Everly safe.

My claws extended and retracted unconsciously as I surveyed the perimeter, every sense heightened, every muscle tense.

Better me facing whatever dangers lurked within these walls than her. Better me than our mate.

The sun hung low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the weathered exterior of what had once been an Engineer outpost. Thick vegetation had reclaimed much of the structure, vines crawling up the walls like grasping fingers. Nature always won in the end. I knew that better than most.

I glanced back toward our makeshift camp, just visible through the tree line. Zehn was keeping Everly occupied with setting up what should be our last night outdoors. Tomorrow we’d reach our destination—if we survived tonight. If this facility didn’t hold any nasty surprises.

The weight of my responsibility settled between my shoulder blades like a physical thing.

I’d been created as a weapon, a hybridized experiment—part Rodinian, part something else the Kridrin had spliced into my genetic code.

Something savage that I kept caged inside except when it was needed.

Right now, that savagery kept my senses sharp as I circled the building’s perimeter, testing for traps.

Engineers were meticulous. They never abandoned a post without leaving something behind—proximity mines, automated defenses, biological deterrents. I’d learned that the hard way on three separate occasions. The scars that crisscrossed my body told that story better than words ever could.

A small gap in the exterior wall offered entry.

I crouched, sniffing the air around it. No chemical traces.

No telltale electrical hum. I extended my claws and scraped them along the edge of the opening, testing for trigger mechanisms. Nothing.

Still, I proceeded with caution as I slipped through the gap and into the dimness beyond.

The interior was cooler, the air stale with disuse. Emergency lighting glowed faintly along the baseboards, casting an eerie blue tint over everything. So the power systems were still operational—interesting. Most abandoned facilities ran dark after a few years without maintenance.

I moved silently through the corridors, avoiding debris and fallen ceiling panels.

My night vision revealed what human eyes would miss—the subtle indications of a hasty departure.

Knocked-over chairs. A mug with remnants of some long-dried beverage.

Personal items left behind as though their owners had fled in a hurry.

“What were you running from?” I murmured, my voice sounding unnaturally loud in the silent space.

A door to my right stood partially open.

I pushed it wider with my foot, claws at the ready.

Inside, a bank of computer terminals lined the wall.

Most were dark, but one glowed with the same faint blue as the emergency lighting.

I approached it cautiously, ears swiveling to catch any sound of automated defenses powering up.

The terminal responded to my presence, its screen brightening. Text scrolled across it, too fast for even my enhanced vision to track. Then it stabilized, displaying what appeared to be a communication log. I leaned closer, my breath fogging the screen slightly.

FACILITY DECOMMISSION ORDER: PRIORITY ALPHA

ALL PERSONNEL REASSIGNED TO SECTOR 7 EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY

RESEARCH MATERIALS TO BE SECURED PER PROTOCOL OMEGA-9

REMAINING SPECIMENS TO BE TERMINATED

The last line made my skin crawl. I had been a “specimen” once. I knew what “terminated” meant. My fingers tapped at the interface, scrolling through more logs. Most were mundane—supply requests, maintenance reports, personnel transfers. But one caught my eye.

PROJECT KRIDRIN ASSETS REQUIRE SPECIAL HANDLING

ALL GENETIC MATERIALS TO BE PRESERVED

VIABLE SUBJECTS IN STASIS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE

Kridrin. The name sent a jolt through me. I’d heard Zehn mention them before—enemies of the Legion.

I continued searching, piecing together fragments of information. The Engineers had been studying Kridrin technology, perhaps even their genetic code. Had they been trying to resurrect their old allies? Or weaponize their remains? Either way, it couldn’t be good.

A final log entry caught my attention:

TERMINUS PROTOCOL ACTIVATED

FACILITY LOCKDOWN INITIATED

ALL PERSONNEL EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY

MAY THE GODS HAVE MERCY ON US ALL

The date stamp was nearly five years ago. Whatever had happened here, it had been bad enough to warrant complete abandonment. And yet, the systems were still online, still waiting...

I stepped back from the terminal, deciding I’d seen enough.

This place made my fur stand on end. We’d camp for the night as planned, but I’d convince Zehn to give this facility a wide berth when we continued our journey tomorrow.

Everly didn’t need to be anywhere near whatever dark secrets this place held.

As I turned to leave, my boot caught on something—a small, cylindrical device partially hidden beneath a fallen ceiling panel.

I crouched to examine it, careful not to touch it directly.

It appeared to be some kind of scanner, its lens pointed upward.

Before I could back away, the device hummed to life, a beam of light shooting out to wash over me.

“Genetic signature detected,” a mechanical voice announced. “Subject classification: Kridrin hybrid experiment KOR-7.”

My blood ran cold. KOR-7. Khaaz Orenn Rakkaan. They knew what I was. What I had been.

“Initiating security protocol,” the voice continued. “Unauthorized Kridrin genetic material detected. Terminus countdown initiated.”

Lights flared to life throughout the facility. Alarms began to wail. A different voice—deeper, more resonant—began a countdown from sixty minutes. I cursed, lunging for the terminal, fingers flying across the interface as I tried to abort whatever I’d just triggered.

ACCESS DENIED

TERMINUS PROTOCOL CANNOT BE ABORTED

COMPLETE FACILITY DESTRUCTION WILL COMMENCE IN 59:45

The message flashed red, mocking me. I slammed my fist against the screen, cracking it. “No, no, no!”

I had to get back to Zehn and Everly. We needed to get as far from here as possible. Whatever “terminus protocol” meant, it couldn’t be good. I turned and sprinted back the way I’d come, no longer bothering with stealth.

As I neared the exit, a security barrier slammed down, blocking my path.

I skidded to a halt, searching frantically for another way out.

A ventilation shaft above caught my eye.

I leaped, claws digging into the wall as I climbed, then tore the grate free and squeezed my larger frame through the opening.

The shaft was tight, but I forced my way through, following the scent of fresh air. After what felt like an eternity of crawling through dust and cobwebs, I spotted light ahead. With one powerful kick, I knocked out another grate and tumbled to the ground outside.

I scrambled to my feet and ran toward our camp, heart pounding. The facility behind me continued to pulse with light, the alarm audible even at this distance. As I burst into the clearing where we’d set up, I found Zehn and Everly already alert, weapons ready.

“Khaaz!” Everly’s voice was a balm even in this moment of crisis. Her scent reached me—that intoxicating blend of spice and sweetness that had called to me since our first unity dream. My mate. Mine to protect.

“We need to move,” I gasped out. “Now. The facility—I triggered something. A countdown.”

Zehn’s eyes narrowed, his larger form tensing. “What kind of countdown?”

“Terminus protocol. Complete facility destruction in less than an hour. We need to get as far from here as possible.”

“How?” Everly asked, already gathering her pack. “What did you do?”

“It scanned me,” I explained, my words tumbling out in a rush. “It recognized my genetic signature. Called me a Kridrin hybrid experiment.”

At the word “Kridrin,” Zehn’s expression darkened. “The Kridrin have been defeated years ago.”

“Not their DNA apparently,” I growled. “The Engineers were studying it. Maybe using it.” I didn’t add that they’d used it on me. That much was obvious from my designation as KOR-7.

“We need to see what we’re dealing with,” Zehn said, shouldering his pack. “If it’s going to destroy the facility, it might take out a much larger area. We need to know the blast radius.”

I bared my teeth at him. “No. We need to get Everly to safety. That’s what matters.”

“I agree with Zehn,” Everly said, her dark eyes meeting mine without fear. She never showed fear around me, even when I knew my appearance—my scars, my feral nature—unsettled others. “We need more information.”

I wanted to argue, to throw her over my shoulder and carry her far from this place, but I knew that look. She was stubborn, our mate. It was one of the things I loved about her, even when it drove me to distraction.

“Fine,” I growled. “But you stay behind us.”

We moved quickly through the forest, following my trail back to the facility. The alarms were louder now, and a new sound had joined them—the low hum of machinery powering up. Whatever was about to happen, it was gaining momentum.

“There’s an entrance this way,” I said, leading them toward a different side of the building than where I’d exited. “Less secure.”

As we approached, Zehn suddenly pulled up short, his nostrils flaring. “Wait. I smell explosives. Proximity charges.”

I sniffed the air, catching what he had—the faint chemical tang of detonation compounds. “They weren’t active before.”

“The terminus protocol must have armed them,” Zehn said. “This place is rigged to blow from the inside out.”

Everly pushed between us, her smaller human form dwarfed by our Rodinian bulk. “Let me see the main control panel. If it’s an Engineer facility, I might be able to hack it.”

“No,” I said immediately, blocking her path. “Too dangerous.”

“He’s right,” Zehn agreed. “We should fall back, get to minimum safe distance.”

“And what is that distance exactly?” Everly challenged.

“Do either of you know what kind of yield we’re talking about?

Because I’m guessing from the size of this facility and the term ‘terminus protocol’ that we’re looking at complete molecular dissolution for at least a ten-mile radius. Possibly more.”

The implications hit me like a physical blow. Ten miles. Our transport was parked eight miles from here. Even if we ran at top speed, we’d never make it in time.

“I can stop it,” Everly insisted. “Computer systems is what I do. Their failsafes always have backdoors. Let me try.”

“It’s too risky,” I growled, my protective instincts in overdrive. “We’ll find another way.”

“There is no other way!” Everly’s voice rose. “We’re out of options.”

Zehn stepped between us, his expression grim. “Khaaz, she’s right. And you know it.”

I wanted to tear into him for siding against me, for putting our mate in danger. But the logic of it was inescapable. If we ran, we’d die anyway. If Everly tried and failed, at least we’d die together. But if she succeeded...

“If you’re going in there, so am I,” I said, my tone leaving no room for argument.

“We all go,” Zehn agreed. “Together.”

We approached the facility again, this time with Everly guiding us around the proximity sensors she somehow knew how to detect. The main entrance was sealed, but Zehn and I together managed to force the doors open enough for us to slip through.

Inside, the countdown echoed ominously through the corridors. “Terminus protocol will execute in thirty-five minutes.”

We followed Everly as she navigated the facility with surprising confidence, heading for what she called the central command hub. I stayed close behind her, every sense alert for danger. Zehn brought up the rear, watching our backs.

The command hub was a large circular room dominated by a central console. Displays lined the walls, each showing different aspects of the terminus protocol in progress. Power building. Detonation charges arming. Containment fields preparing to collapse.

Everly went straight to the main console and began working, her fingers flying over the interface. “This tech feels familiar. It’s like the command centers I use at work.”

“Can you stop it?” I asked, watching the countdown timer on the main display. Thirty-one minutes now.

“Maybe. There’s layers of encryption, but there’s always a—” She broke off, eyes widening as a new message appeared on the screen.

GENETIC VERIFICATION REQUIRED

KRIDRIN AUTHORIZATION NEEDED TO ABORT TERMINUS PROTOCOL

“It needs Kridrin DNA to abort,” she said, looking up at me. “Your DNA.”

As if that weren’t frustrating enough, another alarm layered itself to the countdown sequence, along with the unmistakable whine of a pulse rifle warming up.

Zehn’s head whipped around toward the entrance. “Sentinel drones?” He didn’t wait for the answer as his body shifted into his battle form.

I followed suit. “Sentinel drones.”