The world came back to me in fragments.

  A dull hum. The scent of antiseptic. The sterile burn of fluorescent lights pressing against my closed eyelids.

  My consciousness dragged itself from the depths of unconsciousness, slow and disoriented. My body felt heavy, foreign, as if it no longer belonged to me. Blurred figures shifted around me-guards, medical staff, their voices a muffled haze in my ears.

  Then, clarity struck like a blade.

  I inhaled sharply, eyes snapping open to an unfamiliar ceiling. Cold air kissed my bare skin.

  The sharp scent of sterilization stung my nose.

  Where am I?

  The realization hit harder than the pain in my skull. This was the infirmary.

  I sat up abruptly, my muscles protesting the movement, but the discomfort was nothing compared to the surge of irritation flaring in my chest. My gaze flicked downward-my clothes were gone. I was stripped to nothing but the crisp, impersonal fabric of a hospital gown. I hated these rags, they left me vulnerable. Exposed.

  This is unacceptable.

  A voice, high with relief, cut through the fog.

  "Councilor Albert!"

  I turned, eyes narrowing on Nurse Aninlie as she rushed toward me, the soft patter of her footsteps drowned beneath the pounding in my head.

  I overused it. It was too far of a great distance.

  "You're awake!" she breathed, a note of gratitude in her tone. "How are you feeling?"

  I ignored the question. Instead, I glared at her, sharp and expectant.

  "Where are my clothes?" My voice was hoarse but carried its usual precision-a scalpel wrapped in silk I liked to think of it.

  Aninlie hesitated, caught between her training and the unmistakable authority in my tone.

  That’s the right reaction.

  Recovering quickly, she stepped closer, pressing a cool hand against my forehead without warning.

  "Your fever's gone down significantly," she murmured, concern softening her features.

  "That's good news, but you need to rest-"

  Smack!

  Quickly I waved her off with a sharp flick of my wrist. "Spare me the pleasantries." My patience was already wearing thin.

  "My clothes. Now."

  The nurse's lips pressed together, her smile turning tight, cautious. "You should take a moment to regain your strength, Councilor," she said gently, stepping back as if wary of the growing tension. "I'll retrieve them."

  My gaze burned into her for a lingering second before I exhaled, slowly, completely in my control as it should be.

  "See that you do."

  My voice was even, but the weight behind it made it clear-this was not a request.

  Now that you’re reminded of your place. Do your job appropriately.

  As soon as the nurse was gone, l yanked the flimsy hospital gown from my shoulders, the cold air biting against my skin. My breath hitched as my fingers grazed the wound beneath my ribs—a raw, pulsing reminder of what the belt had cost me. The skin was angry and red, the deep bruising spreading like ink beneath the surface.

  It would heal. Everything did.

  My eyes flicked to the side table, where the belt lay. It had done its job. But at an unimaginably steep price.

  Behind me, the low shuffle of boots reminded me, l wasn't alone. The two guards stood at silent attention, their presence an unwanted weight pressing against the edges of my patience.

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  Finally, one of them, Apstra, cleared his throat.

  Hesitating to speak to me, he lowered his voice.

  "Councilor Albert, Sir," he began, measured but uncertain. "May I ask... were we able to apprehend your son?"

  The words sent a slow, simmering pulse of irritation through my veins.

  I turned my head just enough to catch Apstra in my periphery. The sharp lines of my expression must have warned him, but I answered anyway, voice cold, clipped.

  "Yes," I said. "He's somewhere he'll never escape."

  Apstra hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly before he dared another question. "The Fifth Level?"

  My gaze snapped to him fully.

  "That doesn't exist," I said, the words cutting like a blade.

  Silence thickened the air. Apstra stiffened, his throat bobbing as he fumbled for a response, but before he could, Samuel-the smarter of the two-elbowed him hard enough to make him flinch.

  "Apologies, Sir," Samuel said quickly, his voice smooth. At least he knew better than to tread where he wasn't invited.

  I held Apstra's gaze for a moment longer, watching the faint flicker of unease in his stance before I exhaled and turned away, dismissing the matter with a wave of my hand.

  They were nothing more than noise.

  My mind was already elsewhere, filled with the doubtless responsibilities and errands that came with my position.

  Once I’m out of here, I need to go to my office to submit the results from Edwin’s transformation. I’ll then have to prepare food to fill Edwin’s fridge. I need to send the belt to the R&D after I deliver the food. Next I need to focus on my health and recover from the lost blood. Afterwards I will conduct some in person meetings starting with James. Quite the list is forming already.

  I reached out for the belt. It was cold in my grip, the metal pressing into my palm like a silent vow. I stood before the door, my mind sifting through every variable, every possibility. Edwin couldn't have escaped alone. Someone had helped him. Someone within these walls.

  I inhaled slowly, steadying the slow burn of rage simmering beneath my ribs. No matter. I would find the traitor soon enough.

  Hmm, why don’t I stir the pot and get the traitor nervous.

  Without turning, I addressed the guards behind me, my voice smooth, measured, but edged with ice.

  "Just so you're aware," I said, "Edwin didn't do this on his own. Someone here aided him, and I will be evaluating everyone soon. In the meantime, make yourselves useful-pull up every security feed from yesterday and bring it to my office. I'll be discharging soon."

  I heard them shift, a brief hesitation before they answered. I didn't care to hear their response.

  Instead, my grip on the belt tightened, its weight grounding me as I continued.

  Let’s stir it some more.

  "Since you both seem adept at hearing and spreading rumors," I murmured, tilting my head slightly, "spread this one to everyone. I will be conducting a test soon. Participation will be mandatory."

  Silence. Then a barely perceptible stiffening in their posture. They understood what that meant.

  Good. They’ll do exactly as I need them to.

  Without another word, I turned, stepping through the door, leaving them to exchange whatever wary glances they pleased. Their discomfort didn't matter.

  The truth would come out soon enough.

  I heard their hurried footsteps as they scrambled to follow.

  "We're here to ensure your safety, sir," Samuel ventured, his tone cautious.

  I stopped abruptly, pivoting on my heel so fast he nearly collided into me. The air between us tightened as I fixed him with a glare sharp enough to carve through steel.

  "I don't need protection," I said, my voice quiet but heavy with finality. "Leave me. I have work to do."

  Samuel swallowed hard, his jaw tightening.

  Neither he nor Apstra moved for a long moment. But they knew better than to challenge me.

  I turned away, striding down the corridor without looking back. Their presence-like everything else in this place-was irrelevant.

  The halls stretched before me, endless and sterile, the artificial lights casting sharp shadows against the walls. Every step echoed, but the sound was hollow, distant. Somewhere deep in the pit of my chest, a slow, gnawing ache pressed in, curling through my ribs like smoke.

  They thought this was about obsession.

  They thought this was about control.

  Fools.

  This is about peace. They have no clue what’s to come and we need to be prepared. At all costs.

  And soon, everything would fall back into place.

  The rumors of my obsession only fuel my iron grip. It is my undying madness for a cure that has everyone put their faith in me despite my grip. You fools lost the right to stand up to me a long time ago.

  The polished stone walls amplified every sound

  —the distant clatter of my bare steps, the low hum of unseen machinery. The air smelled of antiseptic and cold steel. As I approached the elevator, the rhythm of my steps unbroken, a voice called out.

  "Councilor Albert!"

  I turned just as Aninlie rounded the corner, her arms piled high with my neatly folded clothes.

  Her breath was uneven, a light sheen of sweat on her brow from rushing. Too much urgency for something so trivial.

  She barely had time to slow before her foot snagged on the trailing edge of my coat. With a startled gasp, she stumbled forward, the clothes spilling from her grasp in a scattered heap across the gleaming floor.

  A sharp inhale. A moment of silence. Then she scrambled to gather them, her hands trembling slightly as she fumbled with the fabric.

  "I'm so sorry, sir!" Her voice wavered, her face flushed with embarrassment. "I must've gotten dizzy for a moment."

  I exhaled, more in irritation than anything else.

  The sight of my clothes on the ground, the wrinkles forming as she hurried to collect them-it was an offense to me. But I tempered my expression, schooling my voice into something measured, something that would ease the tightness in her shoulders.

  "It's alright," I said, stepping toward her. "Thank you for hurrying. Now, on my order, go take a two-hour rest."

  Her head snapped up, surprise flickering across her face before it melted into gratitude.

  "Yes, sir! Thank you!"

  Standing quickly, her balance was still slightly off. I didn't linger to ensure she obeyed-I expected nothing less.

  Turning away, I stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for the first level—heading to my office.

  The doors slid shut with a mechanical hiss, enclosing me in silence.

  For the first time since waking, I allowed my shoulders to relax.

  He'll never escape that prison.

  The thought surfaced, slow and certain, curling like smoke through my mind.

  I designed it myself. Built it meticulously over the years, ensuring every inch was perfect, every flaw eliminated. A last-resort bunker, buried deep beneath the earth where light would never reach. Modeled after our first home together 8 years ago. Every entrance is sealed. Every passage above the fourth level leading to it was destroyed, filled with cement, reduced to nothing but solid rock and reinforced cold steel.

  No one will ever get in.

  And no one will ever get out.

  A slow exhale left my lips as the elevator ascended, the weight of certainty settling over me like an iron shroud.

  Edwin is exactly where he belongs.

  He’s home.