Arin found Voss in a narrow corridor off the main ward.
White walls. White light. No shadows.
She stood in front of a screen, numbers scrolling endlessly like a language that refused to be understood. She didn't turn when he approached.
"Who were they?" Arin asked.
His voice was low. Controlled.
Voss took a moment before answering.
"We don't have a name for them," she said. "Not one that matters."
"They took her." His jaw tightened. "They did something to her."
A pause.
"What were they doing?"
Voss finally turned.
Her expression was calm.
But there was something beneath it. Not fear. Not shock.
Recognition.
"This isn't the first time," she said. "Disappearances have been happening for months. Lower sectors. Outer districts. People no one notices until they're gone."
Arin's eyes sharpened. "And the ones you found?"
Voss looked back at the screen.
"Alive," she said.
A beat.
"But not whole."
She led him through another wing.
The facility changed as they walked.
Less light. Fewer people. Doors that didn't open automatically.
A guard sat outside one of them. He straightened when he saw Voss, then stepped aside without a word.
"There's one here," Voss said. "Recovered three weeks ago."
Arin looked at the door.
"She went through the same process?"
"Yes."
"Did it… finish?"
Voss didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
Inside, the room was quiet.
Too quiet.
A woman sat on the edge of the bed, her back turned. Her posture was straight. Not relaxed. Not tense.
Just… still.
"I'll wait outside," Voss said.
Arin stepped in.
"I'm Arin."
No response.
"We found my sister in a place like yours."
Slowly—
The woman turned.
Her face was pale. Eyes open.
But not focused.
Then—
They locked onto him.
Everything changed.
Her expression broke.
Not confusion.
Not pain.
Fear.
Immediate. Absolute.
She recoiled, pressing herself back against the bed, her hands rising defensively. Her breathing quickened in short, sharp bursts.
Like she was looking at something she remembered—
Even if she didn't understand it.
"I'm not going to hurt you," Arin said.
He took a step back.
She didn't stop.
Her eyes stayed locked on him.
Shaking.
Silent.
Afraid.
Arin left.
The door closed behind him with a soft click.
His hands were clenched.
"She reacted to me," he said.
Voss nodded once.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"We don't know."
But her tone said something else.
We have a theory.
Hana stood at the end of the corridor.
She had been watching.
Her face was pale, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.
"I felt her," she said quietly.
Arin looked at her.
"She's there," Hana continued. "Her mind. Her awareness."
A pause.
"But it's… fractured. Like something passed through her and didn't stay."
Arin's chest tightened. "And Lina?"
Hana's gaze shifted.
"Different."
That word landed heavier than anything else.
"She's still whole," Hana said. "But there's a space inside her now."
"A space?"
Hana nodded slowly.
"Something was taken."
Silence stretched between them.
Then—
"Or something made room."
They gathered in a small conference room.
The air felt heavier here.
Like decisions had weight.
Ren stood near the window, arms crossed. Maya sat at the table, staring at nothing. Dmitri leaned against the wall, unmoving.
Voss remained standing.
"The woman you saw," she said, "is one of fourteen we've recovered."
Maya's head lifted. "Fourteen… survivors?"
Voss didn't respond immediately.
That silence said everything.
Ren spoke instead.
"They're not just taking people."
No one disagreed.
"They're testing," he continued. "Pushing limits."
"On what?" Maya asked.
Voss's eyes moved to Arin.
"On how much a human body can lose… and still remain alive."
The room went still.
Arin's voice was quiet.
"And Lina?"
"She didn't break," Voss said.
A pause.
"She adapted."
Arin looked down at his hands.
"They chose her."
No one spoke.
"They came for her," he said.
Still no one argued.
Dmitri broke the silence.
"Then they'll come again."
Simple.
Certain.
True.
Voss placed a tablet on the table.
"There's another site," she said. "Further north. Same pattern."
Arin picked it up.
Coordinates.
Recent activity.
"They're still working," Ren said.
"They never stopped," Voss replied.
Arin's grip tightened.
"What are they building?"
Voss didn't answer.
But her eyes held something dangerous.
"Something unfinished."
Arin returned to Lina's room.
Everything looked the same.
White walls. Soft light. Machines humming quietly like they were afraid to be heard.
She lay still.
Peaceful.
Too peaceful.
He sat beside her and took her hand.
Warm.
Real.
"I'm going out again," he said quietly. "There's more of them."
The monitor beeped.
Slow.
Steady.
"I'll come back," he said.
A faint smile touched his lips.
"I always do."
He stood.
Walked to the door.
Stopped.
Something—
A flicker.
He turned back.
Lina's fingers had moved.
Just slightly.
Barely noticeable.
But real.
Arin stepped closer.
Waited.
Nothing.
The room returned to silence.
But something had changed.
Not in her.
In the air.
Like a quiet promise had been made—
And something else had heard it.