The lights still twitched overhead, trying to decide whether they wanted to stay alive or play dead.
But Sera barely glanced at them.
For so reason, it always seed that lights were always the first thing to panic. And when the darkness ca, that was the ti when people panicked most.
Her creature purred, pleased by the shift in the air. He knows who you are. He knows what you are. And the best part is, he isn’t afraid of either.
Aerenyx didn’t wait for permission.
He moved into the corridor with a relaxed confidence that didn’t belong in sterile white halls. The facility was trying to reroute power now—ergency lights flickered from red to stark, surgical white. The brightness made every sar of lted flesh on the floor look like spilled bleach.
A clinical broadcast crackled through surviving speakers:
AIRBORNE HAZARD. SEAL COMPARTNTS. NEGATIVE PRESSURE ENGAGED. DO NOT BREATHE WITHOUT FILTRATION.
The speakers repeated it twice before choking on static and there was nothing but silence.
Aerenyx snorted. "Too late."
"Not for them," Sera replied, nodding toward the blinking cara above the door.
His gaze sliced upward. The lens fogged, corroded, and collapsed inward like it had aged fifty years in one breath. "Let them watch," he murmured. "Let them learn what they made."
Sera’s lips twitched. She liked that he wanted to be seen. She liked that he didn’t give the facility the dignity of pretending he feared their eyes.
They walked through the next stretch of hallway, and the dust under their feet shifted into thin films of fluid. Aerenyx left faint black footprints that pulsed before fading into nothing. Sera stepped where she pleased, unconcerned with what dissolved under her toes.
The next shutter began to drop ahead of them—thick tal, reinforced, ant to seal them in. It made it halfway before collapsing inward. The pathogen caught the hinge and softened the fra from the inside out.
The tal curled like hot paper and then slid into a puddle.
Soone behind that shutter scread. Then gagged. Then stopped.
Aerenyx moved past it with a small tilt of his head, like he’d been listening for sothing more interesting than danger. "They built this place to contain things like us," he said. "They had no idea what the real version looked like."
Sera didn’t disagree.
The glass corridor ahead overlooked a containnt wing below. Through it, she saw sealed hazard doors, panicked soldiers pounding on one from the inside, and a thin mist slipping from the overhead vents. It was barely visible. Aerenyx had already said it didn’t need to be.
The soldiers inhaled once.
Boils rose.
Armor collapsed with the bodies inside it.
Bones softened enough to buckle.
The entire wing died before anyone managed to reach the keypad.
Aerenyx watched without blinking. Then he looked at her. "Do you want to slow it down so you can savor it?"
Sera shook her head. "I want to see how far it reaches."
His grin sharpened like he’d been waiting for that answer. "That’s my Trouble."
He said it with the ease of soone who had nad her long before he t her.
The corridor curved, and the next intersection carried a different scent. The air slled sharper—sterile wipes, chemical scrub, cold recycled ventilation. Beneath that, the faint undertone of people who believed doors still protected them.
Her creature perked up. Command core. That’s where he hides.
Aerenyx didn’t slow. His chin lifted toward the deeper hall with an instinctive confidence that made the air around them feel smaller. "That’s where he is," he murmured. "The man who thought he could cut you into a product."
Sera’s attention sharpened. Not with anger. With interest. Curiosity had always been cleaner for her than emotion.
"Do you want to watch break his world?" Aerenyx asked softly.
He was close now. Close enough that his breath ward her cheek, close enough that if she shifted an inch they would touch. His voice wasn’t seductive on purpose—it simply was what he was.
Sera stepped in until her shoulder brushed his arm. She did it without hesitation, without a flinch, the way a predator steps into the space of another to test the alignnt. "Yes," she said. "I want to see what he does when he can’t breathe his way out."
Aerenyx’s grin curved slow and pleased. His gaze drifted briefly to her mouth—not shy, not apologetic. Just interested. "You’re going to be trouble for ."
"I already am."
His laugh was low and real. He leaned in, stopping just short of touching his forehead to hers. The tension between them wasn’t fragile—it was a wire pulled tight enough to hum. "Good," he murmured. "I don’t want easy. I want you."
Her creature humd approval like a hand smoothing over her spine. She didn’t lean in. She didn’t pull away. She held his eyes because she knew what it ant to look away first.
Aerenyx finally turned and lifted a hand toward the first command doors. Pathogen curled around his fingers like smoke preparing to strike. The composite tal softened before his palm even made contact.
"Stay right there," he murmured, his voice almost warm. "I want you to see his face."
Sera smiled faintly. "Don’t think I’ll miss it."
Aerenyx pressed his palm to the door—lightly, almost gentle—and the surface sagged into liquefaction.
But the facility wasn’t done fighting.
Sprinklers snapped on overhead, blasting chemical suppressant foam in desperate bursts. The foam hit Aerenyx’s shoulder, hissed, and imdiately curdled into dark sludge. The vents reversed direction, trying to push air outward to control contamination. The negative pressure made Sera’s hair lift slightly, a steady pull toward filtration shafts that no longer existed.
Aerenyx watched the system struggle. "They’re panicking."
"As they should," Sera answered.
A klaxon deeper in the complex activated—louder than the others, harsher, a warning reserved for catastrophic breach. The walls shook as blast shutters dropped around the command wing, trying to isolate the core from the rest of the facility.
Panels sealed.
Bolts locked.
Hydraulics scread.
And lted.
Sera’s creature stretched with satisfaction. He terrifies them. Good. Let them feel what you felt.
They moved forward as the last of the composite collapsed at their feet. The hallway beyond was narrow, lined with sealed doors that still had power. Behind one, a man pounded frantically. Behind another, soone was trying to override a lock with shaking hands.
Aerenyx glanced at her. "Do you want them?"
"No," she answered simply. "They’re not mine."
Aerenyx flicked his fingers toward the wall. A soft breath of pathogen drifted under the doors. The screams were short. The silence that followed was honest.
They reached the final two barriers—thick, reinforced, built to withstand explosions. The command core was directly behind them. rcer’s heartbeat pulsed faintly through the air, steady and controlled, as if he truly believed the doors ant sothing.
Sera inhaled once. Her creature pressed its weight against her ribs. Go on. Watch him break.
Aerenyx stepped aside just enough to press his shoulder lightly to hers again. Not claiming—aligning. "Stay with ," he murmured. "I want him to know who he failed to cage."
Sera held his gaze one more heartbeat. "I’m not going anywhere."
Aerenyx’s smile sharpened. He placed both hands on the door.
The pathogen surged like a held breath finally released.
tal warped.
Bolts scread.
Pressure valves burst.
And the door began to dissolve.
The command core shuddered behind it as the barrier sagged inward. rcer’s breath faltered for the first ti.
Aerenyx glanced at her with sothing hungry and pleased. "Ready?"
Sera nodded. "Open it."
Reviews
All reviews (0)