Page 27 of The Last Morgan

Barnaby’s world had shrunk to a single desk lamp, the faint glow casting long shadows across the cluttered room. Wires twisted across the surface like veins under pale skin, tiny screws scattered like fallen stars. The faint hum of machines kept him company — a low electric heartbeat.

He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, smearing a dark line of grease across his temple, and leaned closer to the half-assembled VR headset. His fingers, calloused and trembling from fatigue, worked with the precision of a surgeon.

It wasn’t just about adapting the headset — it was about making it perfect.

The device they’d pulled from the box wasn’t human-made, at least not in the way Barnaby understood technology. It needed Lucy’s DNA to activate. It pulsed faintly when touched, almost like a living thing.

Barnaby soldered the final wire into place, the acrid scent of burning plastic filling the room. He glanced at the clock: 1:30 a.m.

A crooked, exhausted grin crossed his face. It’s done.

The urge to sprint up the stairs and shake Lucy awake nearly overwhelmed him — to place the adapted headset in her hands and demand to know what secrets it held. But common sense won out. Tonight wasn’t the night. Not after everything she'd been through.

Instead, he took one final step: adapting the output to the main living room television. Whatever Lucy saw, they would all see. No more guessing. No more half-truths locked behind her eyes.

He sat back, surveying his work. The room around him looked like a battlefield — wires dangling from shelves, toolkits gutted open, spare lenses and circuit boards strewn across every surface.

Barnaby’s eyes drifted closed, just for a moment.

Moon down.

Sun up.

When he opened his eyes again, sunlight slashed through the dusty windows, exposing the controlled chaos of the night before.

Dragging himself to his feet, Barnaby gathered the VR headset and the TV adapter in his arms and trudged downstairs.

The house was stirring to life. The smell of coffee burnt toast, and something faintly sweet filled the air.

He slumped into a chair at the long breakfast table, dropping the delicate equipment beside him carefully, almost reverently.

The room was still empty, but not for long.

First, Lillian shuffled in, her hair hastily tied up, a deep tiredness dragging at her movements. She staggered into a seat, cradling a cup of god knows what between her hands like a lifeline.

Next came Sarah, her sharp eyes scanning the room for her love interest, her brother followed suit, he was silent as usual.

Then Corey and Damian appeared — footsteps heavy, voices low as they approached.

Corey caught sight of Barnaby and the headset immediately, his brows lifting. Damian, standing close behind him, froze mid-step, his hand falling to the back of the chair.

Finally, Lucy entered, walking slowly, one arm linked lightly with Byron’s. Byron leaned on her slightly, still pale, but steadier than he had been. They were a unit now, moving together as if one heartbeat.

Lucy helped Byron into a chair before she lowered herself down beside him, glancing around the table.

Barnaby cleared his throat, pushing his empty plate aside.

He rested a hand lightly on the headset and said, voice ringing clear in the thick air,

"When you’re ready, Lucy... the device is ready."

A visible ripple passed through the room.

Byron stiffened beside Lucy, blinking slowly as he processed what Barnaby had just said.

But Lillian, Sarah, and Jackson just glanced at each other, confusion flickering across their faces. Only Lucy, Corey, Damian, and Byron understood the gravity of it.

Lucy leaned forward, resting her elbows lightly on the table. Her fingers brushed the headset's cool surface, feeling the thrum beneath her skin.

"Are you sure it’s ready?" she asked quietly, her voice steady but low.

Barnaby nodded firmly. "As sure as I can be. It’s synced. It’ll respond only to you. And... I rigged it so we can all see what you see on the TV."

Silence fell again.

Lucy sat back, glancing around at the expectant faces — some filled with nervous excitement, others with cautious bewilderment.

She wasn’t ready. Not yet. But the device waited, humming quietly, whispering promises of truth in the heavy morning light.

Lucy sat perfectly still, her fingers lightly tapping against her leg as she tried to steady her breathing. Every nerve in her body felt on fire, the weight of what was about to happen crashing over her like a tidal wave.

Byron reached over and placed a warm, steady hand on her arm.

"Look," he said gently. "Eat something first. Try. And then let’s do this — together. Me, you, Corey, Barnaby, and Damien. We’ll do this as a family."

Lucy looked at him, her heart squeezing painfully at the steady reassurance in his voice. A family. Something she hadn’t believed she would ever truly have again.

She exhaled slowly, nodding.

"Fruit," she said, reaching for the bowl at the center of the table. "Fruit’s easy to digest, I suppose."

She picked a few strawberries and slices of melon, placing them carefully into a small bowl. Her hands trembled slightly as she lifted a piece to her mouth. She chewed slowly, tasting almost nothing.

Across the table, Barnaby was practically vibrating with excitement, shifting in his seat like a kid on Christmas morning.

"I’ll... I'll go into the other room and get it all set up," he blurted out, grabbing the VR headset and adapter and scurrying off with a grin.

Lucy smirked despite her current state. His energy was contagious, but her stomach still twisted with nerves.

Ten minutes later, Lucy rose to her feet, Byron steadying her with a hand on her back. Corey and Damian fell into line behind them.

The house felt colder as they walked, the long corridors stretching endlessly before them.

When they reached the front room, it felt like stepping into a ring — the final fight of a war she hadn’t even known she was part of until now.

Damian leaned out the room briefly, barking orders to the guards posted outside. Before locking the door securing their privacy.

"Nobody gets in. No one disturbs us. Understand?"

The guards nodded, faces grim, weapons at their sides.

Lucy moved to the main seat in the center of the room and sank into it, steadying herself. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest.

Barnaby was waiting for her, headset in hand, wires already connected to the television, which displayed only a soft grey static. He approached cautiously, like a scientist handling something precious and volatile.

"Okay," he said, voice trembling slightly. "When you put this on, I’m going to prick your finger. Your blood will activate the device."

Lucy scrunched her face. "I hate needles," she muttered.

Corey barked a laugh. "After Sam taught you how to fight with knives, you're worried about a little pin prick?"

Lucy shrugged, smiling faintly. "It is what it is."

With a steadying breath, she took the headset from Barnaby’s hands and carefully placed it over her head. The weight of it was heavier than she expected.

Barnaby took her hand gently and produced a small, sharp lancet. He pricked her finger quickly. Lucy hissed but didn’t pull away.

A single bead of blood welled up. She pressed it against the small port on the side of the device.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then —

A low hum filled the air. The television flickered, the static seeming to shimmer.

"What's that noise?" Lucy asked, her voice tight with unease.

The others looked around in confusion.

"What noise, Lucy?" Corey asked, frowning.

To them, the television remained a swirl of grey and white — meaningless. But to Lucy, the world behind her closed eyelids was shifting, forming something deeper, something alive.

The static wasn’t static to her. It was language — symbols, codes — whispering across her mind like a song half-forgotten.

Somewhere deep inside her, something stirred.

The device was waking up a part of her long buried — or long hidden.

The hum grew louder. Lucy flinched, a small whimper escaping her throat.

Her body jerked once, violently, and then again. "Something’s wrong!" Corey barked, leaping to his feet, reaching out to rip the headset off her head — but Byron threw himself between them.

"You can’t!" he shouted. ""

"She's seizing!" Corey roared, shoving Byron aside.

But just as he reached for her, Lucy’s hand shot up and latched onto his wrist with inhuman speed and strength.

"Leave it," she commanded in a voice that wasn’t entirely her own — deeper, stronger.

Byron stared at her, with a smile on his face.

Reluctantly, he backed away.

The spasms lessened. Lucy’s body slackened slightly, though she still trembled like a leaf caught in a storm.

The hum reached a deafening pitch — and then, suddenly, it cut out.

The television shifted.

No longer static.

A video began to play.

The image was blurry at first, then sharpened into focus. A figure appeared — no, two figures — standing together.

A man and a woman, both beautiful in an otherworldly way, their features almost too perfect to be real.

To the others, their speech sounded like clicks and purrs.

But to Lucy, every word was crystal clear — like coming home. They were the ones from her dream, standing in the snow in the background.

"Hello, my love," the woman said, smiling warmly.

"We are your parents."

Lucy’s breath hitched. Tears pooled behind her closed eyelids.

"We knew something would happen," the man continued.

"We couldn’t risk you dying with us. You are not the last of your kind, our daughter. There were three others created like you. Find them. Protect each other. You are powerful beyond understanding."

The woman stepped closer, reaching out as if she could touch Lucy through the screen.

"We had to hide. The world would never have accepted us."

"You are a full-blood child of the Nephilim."

"The others are half-bloods — but they are still your people."

"We love you, our child. Always. Remember who you are. Princess Selena."

The screen flashed once — then went black.

The hum faded.

Silence fell.

Lucy gasped, yanking the headset off and tossing it onto the floor.

She sat up straight, chest heaving, sweat glistening on her forehead.

The others stared at her — Corey, Barnaby, and Damian all frozen, unsure whether to move or speak.

Then they saw it.

Her eyes — no longer the deep brown they had known —

but a brilliant, soft violet, glowing faintly like amethyst flames.

Power thrummed through her body, radiating off her skin in waves they could almost feel — a pressure in the air that made it hard to breathe.

Lucy smiled — slow, serene and certain.

"I know what I am now," she said, her voice carrying an echo of something ancient and powerful.

She turned slowly, the room seeming to bend subtly around her. She wasn't just human anymore — she never had been. Now, she knew it. And she accepted it.

She was extraordinary.

She was a Nephilim.

Byron rose slowly, every movement filled with quiet intention. “Hello, Lucy,” he said, his voice low and steady. “It’s good to finally meet you.”

She turned — and froze.

One of his eyes shimmered violet.

Just like hers.

“You’re… like me,” she breathed, her gaze locking onto his.

Byron gave a faint, tired smile. “I am. And you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment.”

He stepped closer, and there was something in his expression — not pity, not fear, but recognition. “Now I can tell you my story.”

He pulled her in gently, their connection silent but undeniable.

Behind them, Corey, Barnaby, and Damian exchanged looks that ranged from baffled to mildly alarmed. The silence stretched.

“I want violet eyes,” Barnaby added, with mock indignation. “Or at least a glowing arm. Something.”

The group laughed, tension cracking just enough to let in a flicker of levity — like a lightning storm breaking over a dry plain.

But Lucy’s smile slowly faded as she turned back to Byron. “Are we the only ones?”

Byron shook his head. “There are others. Scattered. Hiding. But I had to find you first. Without you, the rest of us are too weak.”

A hush settled. Even the air seemed to still.

Corey stepped forward, his usual sarcasm edged with something harder. “So… what’s the plan?”

“We find them. We bring them in. And then…” Byron glanced toward the horizon, his voice low and steady.

“We fight.”

In the silence that followed, Lucy felt it — like the earth itself was warning her.

Something was coming.

Something that already knew she was awake.

And with that, Book One has come to an end — not with an ending —

but with a beginning.

"I want to thank Davina for listening to the odd chapter here and there — without your support, I might never have made it through the final edits. #grateful"

Thank you for reading. Book Two is coming soon.