The sky above the Pacific glistened like a wound healing over time. Below it, a sleek black aircraft hummed silently toward an island not marked on any map.
Elias Thorne sat across from Magritte, hands clasped, face unreadable.
"This is where the nightmare began," he muttered.
Magritte didn't blink. "Then it's where we'll end it."
The flight console beeped. Jude's voice crackled in their comms: "ETA five minutes. Be aware: we're not the only ones who know about this island anymore."
As the aircraft lowered into the clearing, wild foliage bowed under the artificial wind.
Elias stepped onto the soil, breath catching in his throat. Nothing had changed. The same black rocks. The same overgrown vines clawing at rusted fences. The same smell of salt and sulfur.
"This place should've been buried," he said.
"But Calder preserved it," Magritte replied. "Because he knew you'd come back."
Elias narrowed his eyes. "Or he knew they would."
They reached the hidden entrance through a camouflaged hatch in the jungle floor.
Steel stairs spiraled downward into a stasis-cooled vault. Fluorescent lights blinked to life with their every step.
Inside, the walls were lined with pods glass tanks housing early versions of PRIMIS beings, suspended in time.
"God," Magritte whispered. "They made hundreds of you."
Elias approached one pod. The label read, THORNE-03 / INCOMPLETE / VIOLENT BEHAVIOR
The face inside looked like his. But twisted. Savage.
Suddenly, the lights cut out.
"Backup generator is down," Jude's voice echoed through the comms.
"No," Elias said. "Something's overriding it. A pulse. They're waking them up."
From behind the glass, eyes fluttered open—one by one.
Sirens blared.
"Get behind me," Elias growled.
"Don't you dare," Magritte snapped, drawing her sidearm. "We do this together."
From the far end of the corridor, a door burst open. And from it emerged a figure they'd never seen before but Elias somehow recognized instantly.
Number Nine.
He was younger-looking. Ethereal. Hair silver, eyes metallic blue.
"You're the original," he said softly. "I'm what comes after."
Elias stepped forward. "You're one of the Echoes."
"I'm the last," Number Nine corrected. "The others failed. You succeeded. But I... evolved."
He pointed to Magritte. "She's the tether, isn't she? The reason your programming broke."
Elias's fists clenched. "I'm not programmed."
Number Nine smiled.
"We all are, brother."
Without warning, the stasis pods exploded open. Pale, screaming PRIMIS prototypes lunged from the shadows.
Elias and Magritte moved in unison he with raw strength, she with precision and grace.
Jude's voice,"I'm dropping the fail-safes. Door's open!get out!"
But Elias didn't move. He threw Number Nine against the glass.
"You're not me," he hissed.
"No," Nine replied. "I'm better."
He drove a blade into Elias's side and vanished in the blink of an eye.
Magritte screamed.
Elias collapsed onto the aircraft's floor, blood soaking through his shirt.
Magritte knelt beside him, pressing gauze to the wound.
"You're not dying," she said through gritted teeth. "Not after everything we've been through."
Elias smirked, eyes half-lidded. "You always did boss me around."
Jude looked back from the pilot seat. "We've got a bigger problem. The island broadcasted a beacon before we left."
"To who?" Magritte asked.
"To everyone," Jude replied.
In a war room far away, Athena stood before a wall of monitors.
Behind her, high-ranking members of rogue states and black-market tech syndicates watched the feed from the island.
"This is your proof," Athena declared. "Draxon has lost control of its monster."
She turned to them.
"Help me take Thorne down, and I'll give you access to what lies beneath PRIMIS."
The syndicate leaders nodded.
A hunt had begun.
Back in the Draxon Tower, Elias lay on a recovery bed, shirtless and stitched.
Magritte sat beside him.
"Do you know what Number Nine meant?" she asked.
"He's not just stronger," Elias murmured. "He's connected. Synced to a network I've never accessed."
"He has a hive mind?" Jude asked.
Elias nodded. "Worse. He is the hive."
Magritte leaned forward, brushing a hand against his face.
"You're not a weapon, Elias."
He looked at her, finally letting his guard fall.
"You make me want to believe that."
"Then believe it."
She kissed him softly, and for a moment, the world was silent.
Just breath and warmth and trembling hope.
As dawn broke over the city, Elias stood on the helipad again, suit freshly pressed, eyes sharp.
"We start hunting them," he said. "Every syndicate. Every Echo. We take back PRIMIS."
Jude cracked his knuckles. "We've got allies. Old ones. Time to call in favors."
Magritte approached, holding a sleek silver drive.
"This," she said, "is Calder's original journal. I decrypted it last night."
"What's in it?" Elias asked.
Magritte met his gaze.
"A name. A location. And a message: 'The first prototype still lives.'