Location: The Elara – Medical Bay
Alethea lay unconscious for seven hours.
Marco never left her side. He sat beside her bed, one hand wrapped around her fragile fingers, eyes fixed on the slow rise and fall of her chest. Every machine beeped in rhythm, monitoring the girl who had just taken down the most dangerous experiment the world had ever seen.
"Vitals stable," Omega muttered, checking the screen. "But her nervous system is fluctuating. She burned through more than her energy. She accessed something… deeper."
"Will she survive?" Marco asked without looking up.
Omega hesitated. "She already has. The question is… what did she become to win?"
---
Memory Awakens
When Alethea opened her eyes, everything felt different.
She didn't just see the room. She felt the currents of energy in the walls. The tension in Marco's heartbeat. The silent calculations in Omega's synthetic brain.
Something inside her had shifted.
"Marco…" her voice was soft, but strong.
He turned instantly. "You're awake."
She sat up slowly. Her body should've been sore—broken—but it wasn't. She was... whole. Changed.
"I saw more than just Subject Zero," she said quietly. "There are others."
Marco froze. "Others like him?"
She nodded.
"Clones?"
"No. Versions. Experiments from the Vault. Locked in different continents. Trapped. Or waiting."
A heavy silence followed.
---
New Threats
Back in the strategy room, Alethea stood before the holographic map of the world. The Elara's main deck had been turned into a tactical base for what came next.
"We thought Zero was the end," she said, voice steady. "But he was only the door."
The map blinked.
Seven red dots.
"Seven Vaults. Each holding a different variant. Each a weapon."
"Who made them?" Marco asked.
Her eyes turned cold. "My mother wasn't the only one behind the original experiment. There's an entire Council—hidden in the shadows of global politics. Zero was sent to kill me because I'm the last uncontaminated code. The original blueprint."
Omega added, "They called her Project AL-Θ13 — the anomaly with the divine spark."
Alethea flinched at the name. "They see me as property. I say we end the project entirely."
---
Meanwhile, in Eastern Europe
In an underground facility in Romania, a figure opened her eyes.
Blonde. Elegant. Deadly.
She stepped out of her cryo-chamber, eyes glowing violet. A tattoo on her shoulder read: "Δ-07: Nyx."
A man in a lab coat bowed before her. "You have been activated. Your sister… eliminated Subject Zero."
Nyx tilted her head, smiling coldly. "Then it's my turn to play."
---
Back on the Elara
Alethea walked alone on the deck under moonlight. Waves crashed softly beneath her. Her mind swirled with memories and warnings.
Marco approached quietly. "I know that look."
"I'm scared, Marco," she whispered.
He stepped closer, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You were brave enough to face a monster. It's okay to feel fear. Just don't let it lead."
She looked up at him. "If I lose control again… if I become like him…"
"You won't. You have one thing Zero never had."
"What?"
He cupped her face gently.
"Love."
She blinked, then let herself lean into him.
And under the stars, they kissed—slow, burning, unspoken promises made in silence.
But neither of them saw the satellite above them… blinking red… sending a signal to the Council.
Location: Transylvania, Romania – The Forgotten Vault
The steel gates of Vault Δ-07 creaked open, revealing a long, frost-covered corridor bathed in violet light. Guards stood at attention as the figure approached—barefoot, calm, and utterly lethal.
Nyx.
Her eyes scanned the hallway like a predator surveying its kingdom.
"Status update," she commanded.
The lead scientist walked beside her, trembling slightly. "You were the final activation. The others are… unstable. You're the last true prototype."
"I know," Nyx replied, her voice a smooth, sultry whisper. "That's why I'm going to burn the rest."
She paused before a mirror on the wall, observing her reflection. Her long silver-blonde hair cascaded like liquid metal down her back. On her left shoulder, the Δ-07 mark shimmered faintly beneath her skin. Unlike Alethea, who carried warmth behind her power, Nyx radiated calculated coldness.
"What's my mission?"
"To retrieve or eliminate Project AL-Θ13," the scientist said, bowing his head. "We've confirmed her survival after the Subject Zero incident. She's with Marco Maxdev."
Nyx smirked. "Of course she is."
She turned sharply. "Prepare the jet. I want to arrive in London by midnight."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"And send a message to the Council."
"Message?"
Her eyes gleamed.
"Tell them… The Blade has been drawn."
---
Location: The Elara – London Outskirts
The Elara was now docked in a private military harbor, its identity disguised under false registry codes. Alethea stood on the bridge in a new uniform—dark navy, form-fitted, and lined with kevlar. Her hair was pulled back in a braid, no longer the soft waves of a girl running from her past.
Now, she was hunting it.
Omega projected images across the main screen.
"Multiple energy signatures detected in Romania, all tracing back to Vault Δ-07. We believe the prototype named Nyx has been awakened."
Marco folded his arms. "I've heard of her. A 'soft' weapon. Meant to seduce, destroy, and vanish."
"She's the assassin built in your image," Omega looked at Alethea. "But without your empathy."
Alethea stared at Nyx's face. Their resemblance was terrifying. Like looking at herself in a darker mirror.
"She's not just a clone," Alethea murmured. "She's a message. A threat meant to break me psychologically."
Marco approached her. "Then we make sure it backfires."
She looked up, grateful for his unwavering presence.
"Prepare the team," she said. "We fly at dawn."
---
Location: A Private Jet – Over the Atlantic
Nyx lounged in a black velvet seat, sipping crimson wine as the city lights below flickered like fireflies.
She scrolled through holographic files of Alethea.
Birth records. Surveillance footage. Psychological evaluations.
"She's always been... fragile," Nyx whispered to herself. "Yet they chose her. Not me."
She tapped the screen and brought up Marco's file.
"Marco Maxdev," she purred. "So this is the man who protects her."
Her smile curved. "Let's see how loyal he truly is."
Then she stood and walked to the armory, her footsteps silent. She opened a velvet-lined case containing a set of obsidian blades—curved, elegant, deadly.
"For every perfect light," she whispered, "there must be a perfect shadow."
---
Location: Elara – War Room, Just Before Sunrise
The team gathered—Alethea, Marco, Omega, and three elite operatives handpicked from global black ops.
Omega displayed a 3D projection of an estate in Scotland.
"This is where she'll strike. Our intel suggests she's already infiltrated the perimeter. She'll come alone, fast, and silent. Death wears lipstick this time."
Alethea adjusted her gloves. "Then let's make sure she bleeds before she smiles."
Marco loaded his sidearm. "She underestimates you."
"I hope so."
---
Somewhere in the Shadows
Nyx arrived first.
Her feet made no sound on the stone floor. Her breath didn't fog. She was a ghost in heels, a killer in silk.
She stood in the gallery hallway, staring at a painting—Alethea's self-portrait.
She reached out and traced the outline.
"You made art to heal," she said, almost tenderly. "I make death look like art."
Then, without warning, she turned—and vanished into the shadows.
TBC.....