The heartbeat of Heathwat City was a rhythmic, industrial thrum that never truly stopped. Deep within the New Gen Headquarters, the air was pressurized and tasted of ozone and sterile panic. The building was a fortress of steel and glass, a monument to human desperation. In the Grand Boardroom, the lighting was a harsh, fluorescent blue, reflecting off the polished titanium table where the leaders of the human resistance and the scientific elite sat in a tense, suffocating circle.
Hellino sat at the far end of the table, a stark contrast to the white lab coats surrounding him. His tactical vest was still smeared with the grey ash of the East Border, and his hands were stained with a mixture of dirt and dried ichor. He looked like a man who had seen the end of the world and was currently waiting for the bill.
Across from him sat Dr. Aris, the lead biologist and acting chairman. Aris looked exhausted, his fingers twitching as he swiped through holographic casualty reports that flickered like dying stars in the center of the room.
Hellino leaned forward, his voice cutting through the hum of the air filtration system. "Before we get into the logistics of our failure, I have a question. Where is Doctor Hannah McKay? And where is Robert? Their lab is locked and nobody seems to tell me their whereabouts!"
The silence that followed was heavy and immediate.
Dr. Aris didn't look up. To his left, the other board members suddenly found great interest in the data scrolls before them. Some adjusted their glasses; others stared at the ceiling. It was a synchronized avoidance, a wall of silence that told Hellino everything he needed to know: they had sent her into the mouth of the wolf.
"The meeting will come to order," Aris said, his voice flat and devoid of warmth. "Hellino, give us the tactical breakdown of the East Border. The Board needs to understand why the latest batch of shock-wave weapons failed to hold the line."
Hellino's jaw tightened. He knew better than to push when the Board was in "denial mode," but the emptiness of Hannah's chair gnawed at him.
"The breakdown is simple: we were slaughtered," Hellino spat, his hand slamming onto the metal table with a loud clang. "The demons... they've changed. They didn't just tank the shockwaves; they seemed to feed on the energy. They shifted into forms I've never seen in the archives—creatures of pure muscle and shadow. My men were torn apart before they could even recalibrate. We're being pushed back, and the border is nothing but a graveyard."
A man at the side of the table, Muron Hoiyer, a frantic-looking scientist with a nervous tick in his eye, suddenly stood up.
"Which is exactly why we don't have time to worry about individual absences!" Hoiyer shouted, his voice shrill with hysteria. "We need to authorize the immediate acceleration of Project Y. Look at the sensors! The demons are no longer just raiding for food; they are claiming territory. They are becoming more aggressive, more organized, and more lethal by the hour. If we don't deploy the solution soon, there won't be a human city left to protect!"
Aris sighed, rubbing his temples. "Project Y is our only hope, but the biological requirement is the bottleneck. We need a concentrated extraction of the Demon Lord's genetic essence. His 'Prime Seed.' Without it, the serum is just expensive water."
"And there lies the problem," Aris continued, his voice dripping with cynical frustration. "Hebner Grand is a vacuum. We've sent the most breathtaking women our city and the whole world had to offer—trained infiltrators, women of unparalleled beauty and intellect. And what happened? He didn't even acknowledge them. He is as cold as the obsidian his palace is built from. He has no lust, no hunger for the flesh, no known weakness. He is a statue of stone and shadow."
Hellino frowned, his soldier's intuition picking up on a logical flaw. "Wait. If the rumors say he's this 'untouchable' god—if he's so hard to get into a bed—how do we even know he doesn't release? You say he lacks bodily desires, but that's a biological claim. Who actually managed to get him behind closed doors and survive long enough to realize his body doesn't react like a man's? Who is the person who actually saw the Demon Lord in his most private moments?"
The room went deathly silent. Even the hum of the ventilation seemed to die away.
The scientists exchanged looks of genuine dread. This was the dark secret of their foundation, a piece of history that was buried under layers of classification and shame.
At the head of the table, the oldest member of the firm, Doctor Dwayne Dedris, slowly straightened his hunched back. Dedris was a relic of the era before the Great Silence, a man whose eyes had seen the world before it was consumed by the Void. He looked at Hellino with a gaze that felt a thousand years old.
"There was a woman," Dedris began, his voice a rasping whisper that commanded the room's absolute attention. "Forty years ago. Long before the walls were reinforced and the borders were sealed."
Hellino's eyes narrowed. "Who? Who was she?"
The old doctor leaned into the harsh blue light of the holograms, his face a map of ancient sorrows.
"Jennifer Thorn," Dedris replied.
The name hung in the air like a cold mist, a ghost from a past that none of them were prepared to face.