Seven Years Ago…
The sterile hum of fluorescent lights echoed through the underground halls of Helix Point, a facility buried beneath concrete and secrecy. Cold, white walls lined with reinforced glass gave off a clinical chill that not even the most advanced heating systems could erase.
Inside Lab B-07, two doctors stood before a thick observation window, their silhouettes outlined by the glow of countless monitors. Behind the glass, Subject 09 stood motionless in the containment chamber, head lowered, chest rising in calm, measured breaths.
He looked like a teenager. But the readings said otherwise.
"Vitals are steady," murmured Dr. Harrow, clipboard clutched tightly in his hands. His voice was a whisper, but it carried the weight of something he didn't yet dare name. "No sedation required. Even after the final stage."
"Did you see what he did in Test 14?" asked Dr. Miro, his tone a blend of awe and anxiety. "His neural response rate spiked beyond the theoretical cap. And there was no fatigue. No strain." He paused, rubbing a shaking hand through his hair. "He should've collapsed. But he just… stood there. Like he wanted more."
Dr. Harrow's gaze drifted to the boy again. "This wasn't supposed to be possible."
"I know."
"He wasn't supposed to survive the third augmentation. Not with that many synaptic enhancements."
"I know," Miro snapped. Then, quieter, "And yet here he is."
The subject slowly raised his head, as if sensing he was being watched. His eyes glowed faintly, red, unnatural, aware.
Dr. Harrow stepped back.
Miro didn't.
"He's not just a success," Miro said, voice low, almost reverent. "He's beyond what we engineered. Emotional suppression didn't hold. Behavioral inhibitors failed. And yet he hasn't tried to escape. Why do you think that is?""
"He's learning."
"No," Miro whispered. "He's waiting."
The monitor let out a soft beep as new data scrolled across the screen. Pulse unchanged. Cortisol levels low. Brain activity off the charts.
Miro swallowed. "We didn't create a weapon, Harrow."
The other man looked over, pale.
"We created a god."
Inside the chamber, Subject 09, codenamed Rafael Azar, tilted his head just slightly toward the glass.
And smiled.
…
Seven years later…
Bob sat in the heavy leather chair inside Jack Smith's office, though calling it his office now felt more like a hollow joke than truth. The room was silent, the kind of silence that echoed, like it remembered the man who once filled it with strategy briefings, sarcastic remarks, and the weight of impossible decisions.
Now, there was only dust gathering in the corners, the faint hum of power backup lines, and Bob… haunted.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, face shadowed by his hands as memories played like fire behind his eyes.
He could still see them, the six members of the Order collapsing, one by one. Axel's body hitting the far wall after Bob struck him down, betrayal and confusion frozen on his face. The rest hadn't stood a chance. Bob hadn't even let them beg. He didn't want to. His power, darkness and fear had taken the wheel.
And he let it.
But the moment that played loudest in his head was what came after. The door to the ruined chamber opening, and the kids stepping inside. Their faces, Beth, pale and wide-eyed, Ryan trembling in silence, Selena frozen mid-step. And Alex… Alex, the only one who looked at Bob like he was still Bob.
Then came Lena. Her mask off, her face flushed red, tear-streaked, her words shaking like she had to force them past a throat full of fire.
"He's dead."
Jack Smith. Dead.
Killed during the chaos. Not caught in crossfire. Targeted. Executed.
The Order hadn't just come for blood or vengeance.
They came with goals.
One: capture the child.
Two: kill the National Hero Bureau's Director.
They failed the first. They succeeded in the second.
And now… nothing was safe.
Bob slowly sat upright, fingers interlocked, staring blankly at the nameplate still resting on the desk: Director Jack Smith. The man who had shielded this facility for years. The man who knew who Bob really was and trusted him anyway. The man who made the call to keep Alex safe, to keep his lineage secret.
Now that man was gone.
No Director.
No buffer between them and the rest of the Bureau.
If the truth about Alex's identity leaked, even in whispers, he would be taken. Used.
Bob stood up slowly, dragging a hand through his hair as the weight of the future crashed down around him. Outside the office, Lena waited with the others, briefing them on the emergency evacuation. The kids would be moved, new identities, new locations. The facility was being wiped, scrubbed of everything, every trace.
But just before he stepped out the door, he paused… looking one last time at Jack's desk. His voice was low, barely audible.
"Don't worry. I'll keep him safe. I swear."
…
Bob stepped out of Jack's office, his boots heavy on the metal floor. The corridor was dimly lit, emergency backup lighting casting long, eerie shadows along the walls. The echoes of destruction still lingered in the facility. Alex came at his side, without saying a word.
At the far end of the hallway, Lena stood with the others. Ryan, Beth, and Selena were geared up, bags over their shoulders, waiting near the secure exit. Lena was giving quiet instructions, voice sharp but trembling underneath.
When she saw Bob approach, her eyes flicked immediately to Alex at his side.
Alex had been silent ever since they left the destroyed training chamber. His face was set in something unreadable. He stood closer to Bob than usual, and Bob didn't miss it. The kid wasn't just following him.
He was choosing him.
Lena stepped forward. "We have transport ready. There's a clean van headed for Station Delta. From there, airlift to the safehouse."
Bob nodded. "I'm not going."
Lena blinked. "What?"
"I'm taking Alex. The rest of you go with the plan, disappear, stay off the grid. But he and I…" He looked down at Alex, then back at her. "We have take a different route."
"You can't do that." Her voice cracked. "You know what Jack wanted."
"I know exactly what he wanted." His tone wasn't angry, just tired. "He wanted Alex safe. Not stashed away like a weapon in a vault, guarded by people who don't even understand who he is."
Lena's jaw clenched. "And you think you can protect him better then all of us?"
Bob's gaze softened, just slightly. "Yes, I do. He's like me. I've seen what this world does to people like him."
Beth stepped forward. "You're really leaving?"
Bob turned to the group, his voice quieter now. "It's better this way. The more we split up, the harder it'll be for anyone to track all of us. You'll be safer with Lena."
Ryan crossed his arms, trying not to show how much this hit him. "So we just… what? Say goodbye?"
Alex looked at them for a long moment. "We'll meet again."
"Damn right we will," Selena muttered, eyes glistening. "You better not die, kid."
Lena stepped toward Bob again, close this time, her voice low. "Are you sure about this?"
"I've never been more sure."
She searched his face for a moment, maybe looking for fear, maybe looking for weakness. She found neither. Just Bob.
Then she reached out, gripping his arm tightly. "Don't get him killed."
He gave her a faint smile. "Wouldn't dream of it."
Without another word, Bob turned, nodding for Alex to follow. The boy walked at his side, silent and steady.
They didn't take the main exit. Instead, they slipped through a maintenance corridor, one Bob knew well. It led out past the back perimeter of the facility, through the dense forest, where no sensors remained. Where no one would be watching.
As they disappeared into the dark, Lena and the others watched them go, standing in the cold silence of what was once a home.
Beth wiped her eyes.
"Where do you think they'll go?" Ryan asked quietly.
Lena stared at the place where they vanished.
"Somewhere no one can follow."
And somewhere beyond the trees, Bob and Alex stepped onto an old dirt road under the cover of starlight.
"What now?" Alex finally asked.
Bob looked ahead. He exhaled slowly, shoulders squared.
"Now we run."
And they did.