Finian walked slowly, his eyes scanning every corner. Suddenly, he noticed a sign hanging above a door to his left:
BLOOD
His eyes narrowed. He turned toward the room and pushed the door open. Inside, the walls were lined with small, transparent cabinets. Names were etched into the glass—names he didn't recognize. He walked deeper into the room until he spotted his own:
Finian's Blood.
Behind the glass sat bags of blood—not just one or two, but six or seven. Nearby, he saw labels for Locki, Ron, and Carter. Then, his eyes landed on names of people he should never have seen in a place like this. The crowbar slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor. He bolted out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
His breath came in ragged gasps, and his hands trembled for a long minute. Finally, Finian took a few deep breaths and forced a grim smile. "I shouldn't have seen those names," he muttered.
He moved into the main laboratory. On the wall hung a massive board covered in photos of various locations and pictures of Ron, Locki, Carter, and himself. It was a master plan, detailed with different colored markers.
However, there was a problem: it was written in a language Finian didn't know existed, using characters he had never seen before. Searching for more answers, he found another door and entered without a second thought.
His eyes widened. Before him stood a bank of massive screens—all of Hero Town was under surveillance. There were cameras in places no one would ever suspect. He saw feeds from outside Ron's house, Carter's house, and even his own mountain retreat. Every shop and every alleyway was visible.
"So, someone is watching everyone from here," Finian whispered.
He sat in the chair and began digging through the digital files. The first file he opened was labeled: Ron. Inside were several videos and documents. When he saw the title of the first video, he froze in shock.
"No... it can't be..."
The title read: Ron's First Day in Hero Town.
He checked the timestamp. The video was dated the exact same night he had pulled Ron's coffin from the sea. How could anyone have these details? he wondered.
He scrolled further and opened a random document. It was a transcript of a conversation:
A: Ron will be awakened tonight.
B: Why now? Didn't we decide to delay it?
W: "A" always acts without telling us.
Q: Yes, it's not the right time for Ron to wake up.
U: Exactly. We still have those others to take care of.
A: Ron can be used against them.
H: Ron likely won't have his memories. And remember—we aren't the only ones who know about him. What if they come to take him and manipulate him?
A: Don't worry. I've known Ron since he was a kid. I know him better than all of you combined.
X: Whatever. You deal with this mess, A.
A: I will.
The dialogue ended there. Who are these people? Finian thought. He tried to search for Locki, but all files related to him were encrypted.
Finian transferred every scrap of data he could onto his USB drive. Then, he grabbed his crowbar and began systematically destroying the hardware. He packed a few essential items from the lab into his bag and smashed the rest.
Before leaving, he walked up to the board containing the master plan. He erased the center of it and wrote in bold, jagged letters:
I WILL HUNT YOU ALL.
After wrecking the "Blood Room," Finian headed for the lift and pressed the H button. The lift's route shifted, carrying him to a different sector. When the doors opened, he stared out at an endless row of cells and sighed.
"Now I have to check these," he murmured.
Elsewhere, Ron stood in front of a quiet house, double-checking the location on his phone. He knocked on the door. No response. He knocked again, harder this time. Still nothing. He sighed, turning to leave.
"Excuse me..." a voice called out from behind him.
Ron turned to see a man carrying groceries.
"Can I ask why you're standing in front of my house?" the man asked.
"Is this the residence of Judge Edward?" Ron inquired.
The man nodded slowly. "I am his son."
"Oh! I came here to meet with your father," Ron said.
The man's expression immediately dimmed. Ron noticed the shift in energy. "Is everything alright?"
"He died a few days ago," the man replied.
"I'm very sorry to hear that," Ron said, taken aback. "May I ask what happened?"
"Come in," the man said, unlocking the door.
He led Ron inside and gestured toward the sofa in the living room. After putting the groceries in the kitchen, he returned and sat across from Ron.
"The cause of my father's death," the man said quietly, "is unknown."