Sydney woke into darkness and pressure.
A hand clamped over her mouth before her mind could catch up, firm and unyielding, stealing the breath from her throat as her body jerked against the mattress. The scent of sleep still clung to her, heavy and disorienting, but instinct flared fast, sharp, and she tried to pull away, her heart kicking violently against her ribs.
Then she saw Melanie.
Their daughter stood just behind Joe, small and pale in the dim wash of moonlight, her finger pressed gently to her lips. Her eyes were wide, not crying, not panicked, just… alert, in a way that made something cold settle deep in Sydney's stomach.
Sydney froze.
Joe felt it, the shift in her body, and slowly, carefully, he removed his hand from her mouth. The absence of it left a faint warmth on her skin, his touch lingering even after he pulled away, but he didn't step back far, his presence still close, still controlling the space.
"What's going on?" she whispered, her voice barely forming around the dryness in her throat. "Joe… what is this? Are you—"
Paranoid again?
The words almost came out.
They died the moment she looked at him properly.
The man standing over her wasn't frantic, wasn't scattered or uncertain the way he had been in the past weeks. His face was still, carved into something sharp and focused, every line set with intention, his eyes locked onto hers with a clarity that sent a quiet, creeping chill down her spine.
This wasn't fear.
This was certainty.
"We don't have time," he said softly, each word measured, controlled. "Stay quiet. Follow me. Keep Melanie close."
That was all.
No explanation.
No reassurance.
Just instruction.
He stepped back slightly, and the faint spill of moonlight from the window brushed across him, enough for Sydney to see him clearly now. He was only wearing shorts, his upper body bare, and the sight of him struck her in a way she hadn't expected.
Strong.
Solid.
His shoulders were broad, muscles defined beneath skin that caught the dim light in subtle contours, a faint scatter of chest hair rising and falling with each controlled breath. There was something raw about him like this, stripped of everything but instinct and readiness, his entire body tuned toward action.
And his eyes.
Calm.
Cold.
Focused in a way she hadn't seen in so long it almost didn't feel real.
For a fleeting, disorienting second, something stirred in her chest, something warm and unexpected, a memory of a man she had once known, once loved with a kind of certainty that had faded under weeks of distance and silence.
God…
The thought flickered and vanished just as quickly.
Wrong time.
Wrong place.
Sydney swallowed it down and nodded, pushing herself up from the bed, the floor cool beneath her feet as she reached instinctively for Melanie. Her daughter moved into her side without hesitation, clinging to her, and together they followed Joe toward the door.
The hallway stretched out ahead of them, darker than before, the silence pressing in heavier with every step. Sydney tried to match Joe's movements, careful, quiet, her breath shallow in her chest as they moved, but the questions clawed at her, demanding to be heard.
"Joe…" she whispered, unable to stop herself. "What's going on?"
He didn't answer.
He just turned slightly, lifting a finger to his lips, the gesture sharp and absolute.
Quiet.
The word didn't need to be spoken.
Sydney felt it settle into her bones anyway.
They reached the stairs, descending slowly, each step placed with careful precision. The house felt unfamiliar now, every creak a threat, every shadow deeper than it should have been. Sydney's grip tightened on Melanie as they reached the bottom, her pulse loud in her ears.
Joe moved ahead of them, the shotgun now in his hands.
Sydney hadn't even seen him pick it up.
The weapon looked heavy, solid, its dark surface catching faint glints of light as he swept it across the room, his gaze following, scanning every corner, every angle. The tension in his posture was unmistakable now, coiled and ready, like something waiting to snap.
He opened the study door with his free hand and motioned them inside.
"Go," he whispered.
Sydney didn't hesitate.
She guided Melanie in quickly, her eyes flicking back to Joe as he remained just outside for a brief second longer, the barrel of the shotgun angled toward the front door, his attention fixed on something she couldn't see.
Then he stepped in after them and shut the door.
The lock clicked.
Loud.
Final.
"Under the table," he said immediately, his voice low but firm. "Now."
Sydney crouched without argument, pulling Melanie with her, the wooden surface of the table cold against her hands as they slipped beneath it. The space felt too small, too enclosed, the faint scent of dust and polish filling her nose as her breathing quickened.
Melanie pressed into her side.
"I'm scared," she whispered, her voice trembling.
"I know," Sydney murmured, brushing her hand through her daughter's hair, forcing her own voice to stay steady. "It's okay. I've got you. I've got you."
Across the room, Joe moved quickly.
Sydney couldn't see everything from her position, just fragments, glimpses of movement as he reached behind the shelves, pressing something, adjusting something. Soft clicks echoed faintly, followed by a low hum that seemed to ripple through the walls themselves.
Then—
Light.
Two fixtures mounted on either side of the wall opposite the door flickered on, not bright yet, but present, like something waiting to be unleashed. From her angle, Sydney could just make out a logo etched at the base.
Farren Tech.
The name meant nothing to her.
But the way Joe moved around it did.
What is this?
The question settled uneasily in her mind, growing heavier with each passing second.
Joe crossed back toward them, dropping briefly to one knee as his eyes flicked over both of them. His gaze lingered on Sydney for just a moment longer than necessary, something unreadable passing through it, something that made her chest tighten without understanding why.
Then he reached beneath the table.
A hidden panel slid open with a soft mechanical click, revealing a compact control board embedded underneath. Switches. Dials. Indicators faintly glowing in the dark.
Sydney stared.
He built this?
The realization hit her like a slow wave, disorienting and impossible to ignore.
Joe flipped the switches one by one.
Each movement triggered something, a faint hum deepening through the house, subtle vibrations settling into the floor beneath her knees, the walls around them coming alive with systems she had never known existed.
How long?
How long has this been here?
He moved to a nearby drawer, pulling it open and retrieving a small earpiece, fitting it into his ear with practiced ease. Then came the sunglasses, dark and opaque, completely out of place in a room already dimly lit by low emergency strips along the floor.
Sydney blinked at that.
The soft glow from those lights cast everything in a muted, almost sterile tone, like something out of an aircraft cabin, guiding lines cutting across the floor.
Why do we even have those in here?
The house felt foreign now.
Like she had never really known it.
"Joe…" she whispered again, unable to hold it back this time. "What's going on?"
He paused.
Took a slow breath.
Then looked at her.
"We're under attack," he said quietly. "Stay quiet. Listen to everything I say, you'll be okay."
The words landed heavy.
Cold.
Real.
A faint beep cut through the silence.
Joe's head tilted slightly, his entire body tightening in response as he adjusted his grip on the shotgun, checking it with a quick, practiced motion.
"Cover her ears and eyes," he said immediately. "Now."
Sydney's stomach dropped.
"What—"
"Now."
Another beep.
Louder.
Closer.
Her hands moved without thinking, pulling Melanie into her, pressing one hand over her daughter's ears, the other guiding her face into her shoulder. Melanie clung to her tightly, her small body trembling.
Sydney's own breathing turned shallow, uneven, panic creeping in at the edges of her control.
Who's here?
What is this?
A third beep.
Sharp.
Final.
Closer.
Joe's voice cut through it.
"Cover your eyes. Hold your breath."
Sydney hesitated for half a second.
Then obeyed.
Her eyes squeezed shut, though not fully, just enough to leave the faintest sliver of sight as she pressed her face down, holding her breath, the world around her collapsing into silence.
For a heartbeat—
Nothing.
Then—
A muffled impact shook the room, followed instantly by a blinding burst of white that flooded through even the thin slits of her vision. The light was overwhelming, piercing, and before she could process it, the sound came.
Gunfire.
Loud.
Relentless.
Each shot cracked through the air like thunder, rapid and deafening, the force of it vibrating through the floor, through her bones. Sydney screamed, the sound torn from her without control, Melanie crying out with her as she clutched her tighter.
It felt endless.
Shot after shot after shot.
Then—
Silence.
Sudden and heavy.
Sydney's ears rang violently, a high-pitched whine drowning out everything else as she struggled to breathe again, her chest heaving as she lifted her head slightly.
Joe's voice came through the ringing, distant, muffled.
"Stay here," he said. "I'm going to check."
She barely saw him move.
Just a shadow slipping away, leaving them behind in the aftermath of something she couldn't fully understand.
Sydney didn't move.
Couldn't.
She held Melanie tightly, her body trembling now, the adrenaline crashing through her system in waves as the seconds stretched unbearably long.
Then—
His voice again.
Closer this time.
"It's clear. Come out."
Carefully, slowly, Sydney shifted, guiding Melanie with her as they emerged from beneath the table. Her legs felt unsteady, her head still buzzing as she straightened, her eyes searching for Joe.
She found him near the center of the room.
A radio in his hand.
His voice low, controlled, speaking into it with a precision that felt practiced.
"…requesting immediate backup. Confirm hostile neutralized. Location secure for now."
Sydney's gaze dropped.
And then she saw it.
Near the study door.
Something massive lay crumpled against the floor, its body twisted unnaturally, dark blood pooling beneath it. The shape was wrong, too large, too broad, its limbs thick with muscle even in stillness.
Rusty red fur matted with blood.
Steam rising faintly from its body, curling into the air like heat escaping.
Sydney's breath caught.
The thing… it was shrinking.
Subtly at first, barely noticeable, then more clearly, the massive frame beginning to contract, muscles tightening inward, the form shifting in a way that made her stomach churn violently.
No.
Her vision blurred.
Before Melanie could turn, Sydney reacted, pulling her daughter close and turning her away, pressing her face into her shoulder.
"Don't look," she whispered, her voice shaking now despite everything.
Melanie clung to her.
Sydney stared.
Unable to stop.
The world around her felt distant, unreal, like she had been dropped into someone else's nightmare without warning. Her thoughts stumbled over themselves, trying to make sense of what she was seeing, what she had just heard, what Joe had said.
Under attack.
Hostile neutralized.
Were we supposed to die?
Her heart pounded harder, faster, her chest tightening as everything began to blur together, fear and confusion crashing into each other with no room to breathe.
Joe.
Her husband.
The man she thought she knew.
Standing there with a weapon in his hands, calling in backup for something that shouldn't exist.
Was he paranoid?
The question surfaced weakly, fragile against the weight of reality pressing in around her.
Sydney tightened her hold on Melanie, her fingers digging into fabric as her body struggled to catch up with what her mind was failing to process.
Or was I wrong?
The silence that followed gave her no answer.