Smoke clung to the air, thick and waiting.
Selene pushed herself upright, swaying as the sharp hiss of metal seals cracked open around her. The sound echoed through the chamber, low and final. One by one, the glass pods began to slide open. One by one, the cloned soldiers stepped forward, barefoot, pale-skinned, and perfectly still. Carbon copies. Each one born from her blood.
Darius stood beside her, chest heaving, knife still slick with the last of Elio’s men.
“This isn’t a rescue,” Selene muttered, eyes flashing across the awakening rows. “This is a coronation.”
The clones didn’t speak. Didn’t blink. They stood frozen, like chess pieces mid-game, silent, tensed, waiting for the next command.
Vincent stepped into the corridor, dragging the guard by the collar like dead weight, his b
