The interior of the Correction Center was a monument to clinical brutality. The corridors were bleached white, the air scrubbed and sterile, the silence broken only by the pervasive, low hum of advanced bio-machinery.
It was a laboratory dedicated to the systematic deconstruction of the human soul.
They moved with a spectral silence, Ryu's senses their only guide, a living ghost navigating a high-tech haunted house.
He could feel the patrol routes of the guards, the blind spots in the sensor grids, the faint electronic heartbeat of the security cameras.
Joric's knowledge of facility layouts allowed him to predict the architecture, guiding them through forgotten service ducts and conduits, a path of rust and shadows that ran parallel to the pristine white corridors.
They found the detention block in the facility's deepest, most secure level.
It was not a prison; it was a gallery. A row of transparent, energy-shielded containment cells stood in a stark, circular room.
Inside each cell was a person, a 'failure,' a recruit who had, for one reason or another, proven incompatible with Vex's process.
Some rocked back and forth, muttering nonsense. Others simply stared into space, their eyes vacant, their spirits broken and discarded like faulty equipment.
It was a testament to Vex's monstrous pragmatism; even his failures were kept for further study.
In the center of the room, in the largest cell, they found Jax. He was no longer just a prisoner; he was the centerpiece of the exhibit.
He was strapped into a complex, throne-like chair, a halo of shimmering wires and neuro-links buzzing around his skull.
His eyes were wide open, but utterly blank, and a thin line of drool traced a path down his slack jaw.
He was a shell, a body waiting for a new set of commands.
"Full-spectrum personality matrix erasure," Joric whispered, his voice a mixture of scientific horror and grudging admiration for the technology.
"They haven't just wiped his memory; they've scoured his identity. Every belief, every love, every fear... it's all been formatted, deleted. He's a blank hard drive in a human body, waiting for new software to be installed."
As Joric frantically worked on his datapad, trying to find a vulnerability in the energy shield's control system, Ryu moved to the transparent wall of the cell.
He placed his hand against it, closing his eyes and reaching out with his senses.
He could feel the cold, empty echo of Jax's life force, a void where a person used to be.
But as he pushed his senses deeper, past the layers of technological violation, he found it.
A flicker.
A single, infinitesimally small spark, a memory so deeply embedded in the primitive, reptilian core of the brain that even Vex's machines had missed it.
It was a feeling. The feeling of shared laughter over a bowl of cheap noodles after a particularly grueling day at the docks.
It was the ghost of a friendship, the last surviving fragment of a soul.
Just as Ryu made contact with this fragile spark, the sterile white lights of the corridor flashed to a blood-red.
A klaxon alarm began to blare, its shriek a violent intrusion in the tomb-like silence. Heavy plasteel shutters slammed down, sealing the corridor, trapping them in the gallery of broken souls.
"System intrusion detected in detention block alpha," a calm, synthesized female voice announced from hidden speakers.
"Lethal countermeasures authorized." The voice then changed, replaced by a new one, a man's voice, that was smooth, amused, and filled with the cold, detached curiosity of a scientist observing rats in a maze.
"Fascinating," said Vex.
"The anomaly exhibits an empathic resonance. A flaw, to be sure, but a fascinating one.
Welcome to my laboratory, Ryu. I have been so looking forward to continuing our work. Do try not to break my toys on your way out."