Chapter Fifty Four: The Aftermath
515 Words
Xavier’s POV
By the time Xavier reached the research complex, it was already burning.
The night sky glowed a sickly orange as flames devoured the treeline, and the air tasted like metal and ash. He parked his motorcycle a few yards away, heart hammering as the hum of sirens filled the air.
Black vans surrounded the wreckage — men in suits shouting into radios, fire suppression drones buzzing overhead. The building itself was half-collapsed, its reinforced walls peeled open like a split ribcage.
He had seen chaos before, but not like this.
This was surgical. Someone had done this from the inside.
He crouched behind a wrecked vehicle, pulling his hood low. A man in a white lab coat staggered past him, coughing. Xavier grabbed him by the arm.
“What happened here?” he demanded.
The man’s eyes were wide and unfocused. “Containment breach— it’s all gone wrong—”
“Who breached it?”
The scientist shook his head violently. “They said it was a clone— no, two subjects escaped. One of them was…” He stopped, eyes narrowing. “Wait, who are you?”
Xavier let him go before the man could finish. Two subjects. One of them.
His pulse spiked.
He climbed over the barrier, slipping past the drones, and entered the shattered hallway. Everything inside smelled of ozone and smoke. The walls were cracked, glass everywhere.
He followed the faint trail of glowing blue fluid down the corridor — the same liquid he’d seen in the underground lab weeks ago. His boots left prints in the glowing residue.
Then he saw it.
A handprint on the wall — small, delicate, and pulsing faintly with light.
“Mila,” he whispered.
The ground around him vibrated softly, a low hum resonating through the concrete, like the echo of something alive deep underground.
He turned toward the noise — and saw Dr. Lang being escorted out on a stretcher, oxygen mask over his face. His eyes locked on Xavier’s through the smoke.
Lang lifted the mask for a second, his voice cracked but steady.
“You’re too late, Xavier. She’s gone.”
Xavier stalked closer. “What did you do to her?”
Lang smiled faintly, blood on his teeth. “She did it to herself. They both did.”
“They?” Xavier repeated.
Lang’s gaze flickered toward the ruins. “Project Mnemosyne… has finally awakened.”
Then his pulse monitor flatlined.
The agents rushed to revive him, but Xavier wasn’t listening anymore. He turned toward the scorched tunnel that led deeper underground — his breath coming fast.
Gone.
But not dead.
He could feel it.
Somewhere out there, Mila was still alive. But the air felt wrong, humming faintly with her energy, sharp and unstable. Whatever they had done to her — whatever she’d become — she was changing.
He clenched his fists. “Hold on, Mila. I’ll find you.”
And as he turned back toward his bike, the glowing blue handprint on the wall flickered once — then disappeared completely, leaving only ash behind.
- Writer
