The rain had stopped just before nightfall, but the city still glistened as though it remembered being drenched. Water pooled in the grooves of rooftops and ran down neon-lit gutters. Clouds hung low, heavy and bruised, dimming the moon to a pale blur behind them.
Ren stood at the edge of the rooftop, looking down at the Lily of the Valley facility.
It loomed in the darkness like something that had been grown instead of built—white concrete folded around panels of mirror-black glass, the windows glowing faintly with sterile blue light. It was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of silence that suggested not absence, but attention.
Like the place was waiting.
"It's breathing," Ren murmured before he could stop himself.
Kaito, crouched beside him, flicked his eyes up. "Not wrong," he said. "Take a look."
He pointed—not at guards, but at the air. The lawn shimmered faintly, like heat haze over asphalt.
"High-frequency sonic web. Trip it, and the entire complex wakes up. The grass is pressure keyed too. A leaf falls wrong? Sirens." Kaito smirked in that way where he didn't look pleased, but sounded like it. "Beautiful, really. A fortress pretending to be a flower bed."
The Hunger stirred in Ren's chest. A low vibration. Familiar, but never welcome. Like a heartbeat that didn't belong to him.
The building was watching.
Aoi stepped beside him, her expression gentle and unreadable. Her hand brushed his arm—not pulling, just present. "Then let's move before it notices," she said softly.
Rain's voice cut in before Ren could answer.
"Positions. Shiranui, you run overwatch. Ren, shadows for cover. Aoi, maintain state awareness. No unnecessary risks."
He paused, his eyes settling on each of them.
"No one gets left behind."
Kaito's smile sharpened slightly. "Touching.
Let's begin."
The Breach
They moved.
Kaito's voice was calm and clinical in their comms. "Camera sweep in three… two… now."
Ren didn't push his power. He released it.
The shadow beneath his feet softened, then flowed, thin and controlled, up the wall and across the nearest security lens—shuttering it in darkness for exactly the length of a single breath.
"Clean," Kaito murmured. "Look at us. Functioning."
Ren exhaled slowly. Don't overdo it. Don't let the shadows get eager.
They reached the maintenance intake. A grill of metal and cold air. But crisscrossed with faint, shifting lasers.
"Hard stop," Rain said. "Frequency-shifted beams. Kaito can't block them. Ren can't shadow through them."
Aoi stepped forward.
She closed her eyes. No flourish. No performance. Just a quiet release.
Spore-fine mist drifted from her fingertips, barely visible—except where it clung to light. The lasers became luminous threads, revealing a narrow winding path between them.
She opened her eyes. "It won't disable them," she whispered. "Just lets us see. Move slowly."
Kaito whistled under his breath. "Artistic. Remind me to avoid enclosed rooms with you."
They slipped through, bodies close, breaths held—into the white interior of the complex.
Inside.
The corridors felt… hollow. Sterile. The air tasted filtered, like nothing living had ever been meant to breathe it.
The first threat appeared without sound.
A hybrid dragged itself into view from a branching hallway—its body malformed in uneven mutation. Bone-jagged arm. Violet-lit eyes. A half-ruined throat emitting a wet rasp.
Rain raised his rifle. "One of Rei's."
The hybrid lunged.
Ren's shadows moved before he could think—gripping limbs, suffocating motion in a net of black tension. The creature thrashed violently, strength bordering on grotesque.
Aoi's spores drifted—soft, invisible.
And the hybrid screamed at something not there.
Claws slashing at illusions only it could see.
Kaito slid from the wall behind it—phasing fully into solidity in a single fluid motion—and struck the base of its skull with precise force.
The creature collapsed.
Silence returned abruptly.
Aoi's breathing was unsteady.
Ren turned. "Hey. Are you—"
"Fine." Her voice was quiet. Steady—beneath the tremor. "Just don't make me do that to someone who can speak."
Ren nodded once. No promises. Only recognition.
The Vault
The server chamber was dark except for blinking lights. A biometric scanner waited on a pedestal in the center. Waiting. Expectant.
Kaito was already typing. "The lock is keyed to a genetic signature."
He looked at Ren.
"Yours."
Ren froze. "It'll trigger alarms—"
"No. Not using it will." Kaito's tone didn't soften. "This was designed for you. Silas planned this. He wanted you to come."
The Hunger in Ren stirred again.
Recognition.
Like a predator smelling familiar blood.
He pressed his hand to the scanner.
Pain lanced his nerves—bright, invasive, wrong.
Something touched his thoughts.
Not memories.
Identity.
A whisper of another voice in his skull:
Subject. Return. Return. Return.
His shadows surged to shield him—
"Ren."
Aoi's voice.
Close. Anchor-solid.
He focused on her.
Breath.
Weight.
The room steadied.
The screen flickered.
Files opened.
PROJECT: SHOWDOWN NIGHTMARE.
SUBJECT TEMPLATE SOURCE: SOJI, REN.
Rain's jaw tightened.
"That's enough. Take the data and—"
A hologram flickered to life beside them.
Dr. Silas Vex smiled. Pale. Polished. Precise.
"Thank you for the update, Ren. Your progression is… fascinating. I look forward to the next phase. Do keep surviving."
The hologram vanished.
The alarms screamed.
The Escape
They ran.
Drones swarmed.
Shadows hardened into shields.
Aoi's spores turned hallways into disorienting dream-fog.
Kaito ghosted through walls, mapping exits in real time.
They burst through the service exit—night air crashing over them like breaking water.
And at the far end of the street—
Rei stood.
Red-and-white Oni mask.
Silent.
Still.
Watching.
He lifted a hand.
And waved.
Ren didn't feel fear.
He felt recognition.
Then Rain dragged him into motion, and the city swallowed them.
In an alley three blocks away, they finally stopped.
Kaito leaned back against stained brick.
"Messy," he said. "But we got it."
Rain held the data drive.
Aoi sat beside Ren, her shoulder brushing his—quietly, deliberately.
Ren looked at his hand.
He hadn't realized he was still holding the spore she'd given him before the mission.
Warm.
Small.
Steady.
Silas's voice echoed faintly in his mind.
Subject returns to source.
Ren closed his hand around the spore.
The next monster they send, he thought, golden eye smoldering in the dark,
will be built from me.
Fine.
Let it come.