Atlas's fingers hovered over the keyboard, trembling with something he hadn't felt in years, doubt. The evidence had been so clear. Anola's journal, the carefully documented poisoning scheme, the timeline of Marius's decline...
His phone buzzed again. Another message: "Original lab samples compromised. Testing methodology flawed. Request immediate contact."
He silenced the device and paced the length of his quarters, mind racing. Five years of planning, of suffering, of becoming something beyond human, all potentially based on a misunderstanding?
A sharp knock interrupted his spiral. Atlas composed himself instantly, slipping back into James Reed's persona before opening the door.
Victor Mercer stood in the hallway, his expression unreadable. "We need to talk."
"It's three in the morn
