The atmosphere was unbearably still. Not the normal kind of still. A heavy still of unspoken things weighing against the walls, near unbearable tension over all those present. Rourke stood sternly at his desk, arms crossed, unblinking cold eyes locked onto Cyrus. To his side, Second Higher-Up Victoria sat, statuesque and collected - her sharp, observing gaze impossible to decipher.
Axel sat opposite Cyrus, every muscle in his body still sore from their recent, brutal battle, twelve hours prior. He has not thought about the pain, only looked at Cyrus, and was sustaining his Art while on unconscious scan; there was quite a lot of tension in the fists Cyrus had on the table edge, and there were also subtle hard knots in his jaw. Cyrus has not uttered one word since coming into the office, only remained seated with narrowed eyes and difficult breathing.
Then, after what felt like forever, Cyrus spoke. The voice was low, rough, reflecting something deeper than frustration.
**"Mother..."**
The word hung there again in silence, suspended in the air like a dagger. Cyrus breathed slowly, fingers curling against his knees before he spoke again, his voice somewhat quieter now, even more strained.
**"My mother worked here. She spent everything that she had at this place. She actually believed in it. She bought in to what they thought they were doing. She honestly thought that it mattered, that it was going to lead to something more..."**
He let out an empty laugh, shaking his head. **"She was wrong."**
Victoria remained unreadable, staring intently, while Rourke was blank. Axel remained still, listening.
Cyrus took a slow, measured breath. **"I lived with her here, in this prison. It wasn't a home - it was walls and corridors, cold steel and locked doors. But she made it less horrible. She somehow had a way of making it not so... oppressive."** His voice faltered for half a second before it returned to something sharper. **"She used to tell me that there would come a day when everything would be different. That change was coming even if we couldn't see it just yet."**
His throat constricted, eyes boring into me, unblinking and glassy. **"She was wrong about that too."**
Axel's fingers had curled a bit against the armrest, sensing what would come next.
**"She was murdered. Right in front of me."**
The room was unnervingly quiet, as if the whole facility was holding its breath.
Cyrus's voice dropped, strained and raw as he relived the memory.
---
He was **ten** when it happened.
The research facility was unnaturally still that night. His mother had been tightly wound the whole evening, pacing and muttering things he couldn't understand and she didn't explain. Then the alarms went off and the emergency lights were flashing—bright red and sickly.
"Stay here," she said, her hand trembling as it pressed down onto his shoulder. "You stay here. No matter what happens, don't move."
Then **they** came. The masked figures— the ones who weren't supposed to be there. His mother moved fast, putting herself between him and them, and he could tell she was trying to be sharp, but even full of adrenaline she sounded pleading.
**"I know why you're here. Please—just listen. It doesn't have to end this way."**
They did not listen.
The first gunshot felt deafening. His mother was stumbling forward as the crimson soaked down on her white coat like spilled ink.
Cyrus was frozen, his ability to move hijacked from his shocked body, as was the ability to breathe. She fell to her knees, one hand clutching her abdomen, while her other hand reached for him, trembling.
**"Cyrus—"** Her voice was faint yet her eyes never left his. **"Come here."**
He stumbled forward, hands pressing onto her shoulders as she gasped for air. And yet, she was no longer looking at him—her fingers dug into her coat and pulled out a small vial.
Red.
**"You have to drink it,"** she whispered, pressing it into his palm. **"You need it... in the future... You must live, my son."**
Her breathing was slowing as her grip began to loosen. Her lips quivered as she forced her final words.
**"I love you."**
And she was gone.
---
Cyrus clenched his fists, looking down at the floor, his voice dropping to little more than a whisper. **"She had faith in this place. She had faith in it. And they took everything from her."**
There was a heavy pause that followed. The gravity of his words hovered over them like thunder.
Commander Rourke's voice broke the silence, even and flat. **"Sorry to hear that."**
Victoria exhaled quietly. **"Loss is a cruel teacher."**
Axel leaned forward slightly, still private but definite. **"She gave you the red vial before she died."**
Cyrus's eyes shot up to him, incisive and focused. **"You've seen it before?"**
Axel paused for half a second before nodding. **"My father had one. I found it among his things?"**
Victoria's eyes narrowed a little. **"Your father was with us previously."**
Axel froze for a moment to carefully process her words. **"What do you mean?" **
She did not clarify. She only moved the conversation forward. **"We require you both—and your teams—for the Frontline." **
Cyrus scoffed. **"Sure. Just send us off to war." **
Rourke had a blank look on his face. **"You'll be fully outfitted with weapons, armor... and the red vial." **
Axel's mind swirled at the mention of the vial again. He thought back to what the Fifth Higher-Up told him.
**"The red vial skips the whole expermentation stage," ** Axel said slowly, even as a controlled tone. **"It gives abilities straightaway—no testing, no sequences. But with that kind of power, I assume, there's a flip-side?" **
Axel looked at Rourke and waited for a response.
The Commander smiled slightly. **"You know the answer." **
Axel looked at Rourke, waiting for a response.
The Commander smiled marginally. **"You know the answer." **
Axel exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. He already knew, the vial wasn't a donation, it was a roll of the dice.
There was a silence between them until Victoria finally sat up. **"What will it be? Do you accept the mission?"**
Cyrus leaned back and his expression was unreadable, before he finally let out a sharp breath. **"What the hell else is there?"**
Axel was still for a moment, before he nodded finally. **"We'll go."**
Victoria's lips curled into something that might be considered approval. **"Good."**
Commander Rourke shifted slightly, glancing at the monitors, before looking back at them. **"Then prepare. You're leaving soon."**