# Chapter 19 — The Missing Formula
Krist looked from Albert to Willa and back again.
"So my dad and seven others?" he said quietly. "That is good news."
He leaned forward a little.
"I do not care how much it costs. Assemble the remaining seven. You are not telling me you cannot find even one of them, right?"
"Look, kid," Dr. Albert interrupted, tapping his wrist watch with an impatient sigh. "I'm operating on a tight schedule, so will you let me finish before you start firing off questions?"
Albert nodded once, satisfied, and continued.
"From what I know, eight years ago, your father began scouring the country—and international networks—for elite medical practitioners and bio-chemists. After three months of recruitment, he formed an off-the-books research unit of eight people."
Krist's eyes narrowed.
Albert paused, his eyes darkening slightly. "Out of those original eight, only three are still breathing today. Two years ago, right after your parents passed, your uncle gathered the surviving three and recruited two new specialists to form a restructured team of five. He handed us these three remaining vials and ordered us to replicate the compound. We haven't had a shred of luck since."
Krist's mind caught the phrasing instantly. "Wait. You said 'we' and 'us.' Are you two part of that team?"
"We both are," Willa said, nodding softly.
"And you said my *uncle* organized this?" Krist pressed.
Yes," Albert confirmed.
Hope flashed across Krist's face. "Where is he? Can I talk to him?"
Albert shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking away toward the corner of the room. "About that..."
When Albert didn't offer a follow-up, Krist turned his gaze directly to Willa, demanding an answer.
Willa let out a long, heavy sigh. "Two months after he formed our research unit, Blake vanished. He took his head of security and his personal butler and went completely off the grid. No one knows where he went—not even his own daughter."
*Immediately after Mom and Dad died, Uncle Blake formed this emergency research group... and two months later, he disappeared into thin air.*
The timing was far too convenient. too neat. Why would a man who had just lost his sister choose that exact moment to abandon his post, leaving both his daughter and his nephew to fend for themselves?
Krist tilted his head back, staring up at the white ceiling as his mind pieced together the variables.
*There are only two real possibilities,* he reasoned. *Either he suspected Mom and Dad were murdered and went underground to launch an off-the-books investigation... or the same people who killed my parents went after him next.*
If Blake had narrowly survived an assassination attempt, going into hiding and quietly reinforcing the perimeter around the Stark estate made absolute sense. Krist recalled how the security around the estate grounds had tightened dramatically over the past two years—to the point where local street gangs couldn't even get within three blocks.
*Wait a minute...* A cold flash of realization hit Krist. *Is that why Adams could only manage to sneak a single assassin into the estate to target me? *That could be why only one person could get close enough to attack me.* Because Blake's automated security grid is still actively holding the line?*
Albert cleared his throat.
"Alright, kid," Albert said, breaking the silence as he stood up. "If you don't have any more questions, I need to wrap this up and get to surgical prep."
"Wait," Krist said, snapping out of his thoughts.
"One more thing."
"How did the others die?" He needed to know if his family's enemies were actively hunting down every doctor who knew the secret behind his condition.
"Out of the original eight? Two died of natural causes—they were elderly when your father recruited them," Albert explained cleanly. "Your mother and father were killed. And Dr. Mark was with your parents on the day of the plane crash. That leaves only three of us alive."
Krist's brow furrowed. "I still don't understand how eight brilliant minds could put their heads together to build a complex chemical compound, but once the task was finished, none of you actually knew how the final formula worked."
Albert fell quiet, rubbing his chin with a rare look of solemnity. He let out a soft sigh. "It was a joint project, yes. But we hit an absolute dead end near the finish line."
"How so?"
"We were designing a high-tier neurological suppressant," Albert said, his tone turning clinically grave. "The early prototypes worked to dampen hyper-sensory perception, but they carried a horrific flaw. Exactly forty-eight hours after the injection wore off, the patient's brain tissue would begin to rapidly deteriorate. We were completely stuck at that wall for three months. Then, without a word, your parents and Dr. Mark vanished from the facility."
He stopped, glancing at Willa before looking back at Krist.
"A week later," Albert continued, "your parents and Dr. Mark walked back into the lab. Your father pulled one of these exact vials out of his coat, handed it to us," He lifted one from the metallic briefcase carefully. "and announced that they had found the solution.
Krist stared at him.
"And they never told you how?"
"No."
Albert shook his head.
The mission was officially over, the team was disbanded,
"Just like that?" Krist asked, incredulous. "They didn't tell you what missing element made it work?"
"No," Albert said. "They left us a single sample to analyze on our own. But if you ask me? Mark was the one who solved it. He was the youngest member on the team, but he was brilliant beyond his years. He was your father's favorite."
"And from what I remember," Willa added softly, "your father personally sponsored Mark's entire university education when he saw the boy's potential."
Krist leaned back against the headboard, a shadow falling over his face. "Well... none of this helps us right now if I can't even leave this soundproof room without my ears hemorrhaging."
"That, at least, is a temporary problem for now," Albert said.
Reaching into his lab coat pocket, the surgeon produced a sterile, high-grade syringe. He opened the metallic briefcase, took out one of the two remaining vials, and snapped off the tamper-evident cap.
Drawing the milky white liquid into the syringe, Albert reached over, took Krist's arm, and wiped a small patch of skin with an alcohol swab. He expertly found the vein and depressed the plunger.
A sharp, cool sensation washed through Krist's bloodstream, followed immediately by a strange, tingling numbness that spread up his neck and into his skull. Deep within his temporal lobe, it felt as though a tense, vibrating wire had suddenly been cut.
Willa checked her watch and stood up, heading toward the door. "I have an emergency lab appointment in five minutes. I'll see you downstairs, Albert."
Albert locked the briefcase, checked his own watch, and looked down at Krist. "Alright, kid. I've got a three-hour neuro-reconstruction in sixty minutes. Try not to blow your brain up while I'm in surgery."
With the briefcase in hand, Albert followed Willa out the door.
As the heavy door swung open to the bustling corridor outside, Krist braced himself for the overwhelming assault of sound.
Nothing happened.
There was no blinding pain, no ringing in his ears, no rush of overwhelming noise. The world outside sounded soft, distant, and completely normal. The serum had locked down his sensory over-expansion completely.
While Krist was quietly testing his range, the door opened wide again. Evelyn's voice echoed outside as she briefly greeted Willa, and a second later, Harrison burst into the room carrying two laptops under his arms.
"I'm back, kiddo!" Harrison grinned, setting the gear down on the table with a heavy thud. "Did you miss me?"