The doors to Dray's private chamber hissed open.
He stood at the center of the room—tall, draped in his austere black uniform, arms folded behind his back. His office overlooked the tower's vast databanks, but today the windows were sealed, the holoscreens dim. Only one other presence occupied the space.
The Scientist.
The dragon-like form loomed near the wall, his scaled wings half-folded, but his posture rigid, dangerous. Tension pulsed in the stale air.
"You summoned us," the Scientist said without preamble. "I assume this is not another exercise in bureaucracy."
Dray didn't answer right away. Instead, he turned toward the holotable between them. At the center flickered the latest sweep: human population grids—severely diminished, many sectors blank. Gone. Entire cities with no organic signature.
Dray tapped the edge of the table. "We need to bring her in."
"No."
"She's already in. Her proximity to Fenrir, her influence on the cores—it's happening whether we sanction it or not."
"She's unstable. Sentimental. Weak." The words hissed like static through the dragon's vocal modulator. "We have one chance left. If she fractures now—"
Dray cut him off. "And if we do nothing, we'll lose both of them. You've seen the sweep. Do you know what this means?"
"I know what it implies." The Scientist stepped forward, claws clinking softly against the metallic floor. "It implies that your enemies have returned."
Dray stared at the readouts. Then he turned, slowly.
"They never left."
Before the Scientist could respond, the doors slid open again.
Elira walked in.
Eyes sharp. Lips pressed into a thin line. She had heard enough.
"I'm done being lied to," she said. "You've had me chasing pieces of myself for months, making me fight shadows and whisper about 'purpose' while the world goes to hell. If I'm the one you're betting on, then stop treating me like a child."
Neither Dray nor the Scientist spoke.
Elira stepped closer, voice low but firm. "You can debate protocols and readiness all you want. But I am in. I've been in. Now either you bring me up to speed… or I stop cooperating."
Dray exhaled, slowly.
The Scientist's tail lashed once, then stilled.
Finally, Dray turned to the holotable and dimmed the display. Then, eyes on Elira, he spoke.
"The virus… was man-made."
Silence rang through the room like a gunshot.
Dray continued, "A failed experiment. Not by us. By someone else. Someone who once stood beside the Scientist. A rival. Their split nearly tore this entire project apart."
Elira's throat went dry.
"You mean…" she started.
But Dray held up his hand. "We'll explain. But not here. Not like this."
The room felt colder somehow. Quieter. Like something ancient had stirred in its sleep.
Elira looked at the two of them—and knew, whatever came next, there would be no going back.