Boss stood in that dimly lit hospital room, his stone-clad hand slowly returning to flesh. He flexed his fingers once more, feeling the surge of unnatural strength still flowing in his veins. Whatever this was... it wasnât normal. It wasnât even close to human.
And now, he wanted answers.
No more games.
No more theatrics.
He looked straight at the doctor, his voice calm but cold. "I want to know everything that happened while I was unconscious."
The doctor gave a slow, solemn nod.
Without a word, he turned around and began walking toward a corner of the room. There, behind a rolling cabinet, he revealed a metallic door embedded in the wall. He tapped a code into a keypad, and with a soft hiss, the door slid open, revealing a tunnel dimly lit with blue lights stretching downward.
Boss didnât hesitate. He followed.
The two men descended into the underground tunnel, their footsteps echoing through the narrow steel corridor. The deeper they went, the colder it became. Boss noticed subtle soundsâmachinery humming behind the walls, a distant metallic clank, like something moving beneath the surface.
As they walked, the doctor finally spoke.
"When you were brought in, we assumed you were dead. You had no pulse. No breathing. You shouldnât have been alive."
Boss listened in silence.
"But," the doctor continued, "one of our scanners picked up something faint. A spark. Just barely there. A fragment of life clinging to your corpse like a dying ember."
"And you saved me?" Boss asked, voice rough with disbelief.
"No," the doctor replied. "You were already gone. You wouldâve died within seconds. But we had... something. A solution. Or a gamble, depending on how you look at it."
Boss furrowed his brows. "What kind of gamble?"
The doctor exhaled slowly, voice lowering. "We injected you with the serum."
Boss stopped walking for a second. "What serum?"
The doctor didnât look back. He simply said, "F10."
Boss repeated it quietly. "F10..." The name stirred nothing in him. No memory. No trigger. It felt like a code for something buried.
"What the hell is F10?" Boss asked again, now catching up beside him.
And the doctor began to explain.
"A long time ago, the government assembled four of the brightest scientists in the world. They werenât interested in money or politics. They were obsessed with one ideaâhuman evolution. They were tasked with creating a serum that would enhance mankind. Strength, speed, endurance, intelligence. The next step in human development."
Boss listened, intrigued despite himself.
"They worked for years," the doctor went on. "People outside the project assumed they failed. Nothing ever came out of their labs. But the truth wasâthose four scientists succeeded. They created something miraculous. They called it evolution in a vial."
Bossâs jaw clenched. "So what happened?"
"The government got greedy," the doctor said flatly. "They wanted to mass-produce it. Sell it. Use it for war. But the scientists refused. They realized the mistake theyâd made. So they tried to destroy their work. Every sample, every formula."
"And the government didnât like that," Boss muttered.
"No. They hunted them down. One by one. All four scientists were killed. But before they died, they managed to scatter the formula. Pieces of it. Not the full serum, just fragmentsânotes, corrupted data, incomplete strands."
Boss narrowed his eyes. "Then what? The government tried to rebuild it?"
"They did," the doctor confirmed. "For decades. They hired new scientists. Paid billions. But every attempt failed. They never got it right. Every version was flawed. Useless. Some turned people into vegetables. Others... monsters."
"Then what the hell did you inject me with?" Boss demanded, his voice cold now.
The doctor finally stopped walking. They had reached a chamber deep undergroundâlined with metal walls, tanks, monitors, and strange machines humming with soft energy. This was no hospital anymore. It was something else. A lab. A bunker.
"One of the original four scientists didnât die," the doctor said.
Boss blinked. "What?"
"He disappeared. For years, no one could find him. Everyone assumed he was dead. But five years ago, he resurfaced. Quietly. No press. No announcement. But heâd been working all that time. Alone. And he made a breakthrough."
Boss stared at him. "He rebuilt the serum?"
"Yes. But it wasnât perfect. It still isnât. His final creationâF10âis only 40% successful."
Silence fell between them.
Bossâs heart dropped.
He laughed bitterly. "So let me get this straightâyou injected me with something that only works 4 out of 10 times?"
The doctor didnât blink. "Would you have preferred death?"
Boss didnât answer.
The doctor stepped closer. "Would you have preferred to die, knowing that the ones who left you for dead would continue living their perfect lives? That they would never pay for what they did?"
Bossâs mind flashed back. Lilithâs face. Her gun. The burning pain in his eye. Liam standing there like a goddamn executioner.
He clenched his fists.
"No," Boss whispered. "No, I wouldnât."
"Then you understand," the doctor said. "You didnât survive. You were chosen. And now, youâre something more."
Boss turned slowly, taking in the machines around him, the deep pulse of technology, the echoes of something bigger than he could fully comprehend.
And still... one thing lingered in his mind.
"You said someone brought me in," he muttered.
The doctor nodded.
"Who?"
The doctor paused for a long moment before saying a single name.
"Li."
Boss stiffened. "Li?"
Of all people, he hadnât expected that. That old bastard didnât want him dead after all? The man who always hovered behind him, quietly pulling stringsâhe had been the one to save him?
Why?
Why now?
What did Li want?
A loud clap snapped Boss out of his thoughts.
He blinked, slightly startled, his mind still chewing on the revelation that it had been Li who saved him.
The doctor was already walking again, motioning for Boss to follow him deeper into the underground facility.
They passed through another thick door. It slid open with a hydraulic hiss, revealing a long corridor lined with reinforced glass walls. The moment Boss stepped into the space, he felt the temperature shiftâcolder, heavier. There was a hum in the air, not from machines, but from something wrong... like the atmosphere itself was disturbed.
Behind the glass, he saw them.
His eyes narrowed.
Humansâor what used to be humans. Twisted, malformed, grotesque shadows of what they once were. Some had limbs too long to be natural, others had eyes where they shouldnât be. Their flesh bubbled in places, their mouths opened wide in silent screams. Some paced endlessly in their cells, some scratched at the glass with cracked fingernails, while others simply satâvacant, empty.
Abominations.
"What the fuck is this?" Boss murmured.
The doctorâs voice came calm and matter-of-fact. "This... is what happens when the serum fails."
Boss kept staring, his stomach tightening. There were at least ten of them. All different. All wrong. Not a single one had the same mutation. Some were monstrous in strengthâone of them had shattered his own enclosure at the end of the corridor and was now bound in chains, drooling and growling low like an animal. Others had mutated mentallyâsilent, unmoving, broken beyond comprehension.
Boss turned away from the glass.
Only one word came to mind: Zombies.
That was what they looked like. Not the mindless movie kind, but something worseâsomething conscious, aware of what had happened to them.
"How many have died?" Boss asked quietly.
The doctor didnât answer immediately. Then, with a shrug, he said, "Hundreds. Maybe more. The failures donât get counted after the first few rounds. No one wants to keep a record of ghosts."
Boss shook his head. "And you people kept trying?"
The doctorâs eyes met his. "Of course. Progress requires sacrifice. Especially the kind of progress that changes the course of human evolution."
Boss stared at him. "You call this evolution?"
The doctor didnât blink. "You didnât die, did you?"
Boss clenched his jaw, then turned back to the twisted figures behind the glass. For a moment, he saw his own face reflected in itâhalf-shadowed, unfamiliar. He wasnât like them. Heâd survived. He was the evolution. But somehow, that didnât feel like a win.
Not yet.
---
Far above the underground horrors, thousands of feet in the air, Liam sat by the window of a private jet, staring out into the endless stretch of white clouds.
It was strange, the calmness he felt.
This was his first time flying. In his world, people didnât usually get the luxury of private jetsânot until recently. The hum of the engines, the faint vibration through the floor, the pure white void outsideâit all felt surreal. But the calm was deceptive. Inside, his mind was racing.
He wasnât flying for pleasure.
He was headed to Russia.
And there were two reasons for this trip.
The first, Ann.
His people had finally brought him the full report. Her background, her family, their recordsâit all made sense now. Ann had been hiding something deep, something that clearly haunted her.
Her family was in massive debt.
Not just normal debt. Royal debt. The kind of debt that didnât get forgiven. The kind of debt that came with ancient contracts and iron-clad deals.
And the repayment?
Marriage.
They were trying to marry Ann off to a princeâthe youngest heir of a powerful Russian noble family. A family that didnât care about love or choice. All they cared about was image, business, and restoring power.
Liam had been stunned.
No wonder she never told him.
It wasnât about shameâit was survival.
That girl had been smiling in front of him, making jokes, teasing him like everything was normal, while behind the scenes, her future was being traded away like currency. Her silence wasnât cowardiceâit was pain.
And that made Liam furious.
But that wasnât the only reason he was headed to Russia.
The second reason?
Jack.
Lilithâs information had come throughâJack had gone underground and resurfaced somewhere near St. Petersburg. If Liam could find him... heâd finally be able to end that Chapter.
Kill Jack.
Help Ann.
Two birds, one stone.
Liam leaned back in the leather seat, finally tearing his eyes from the window. He let out a breath, mind swimming with everything ahead.
And across from him, sitting like a queen in casual fashion royalty, was Lana.
She looked as stunning as ever.
Black leather jacket, blood-red lips, long dark waves falling over one shoulder. Her crossed legs swayed slightly as she scrolled lazily through her phone. But her eyes flicked up and met his, and there was that little smirk she woreâconfident, playful, dangerous.
She hadnât asked to come.
She told him she was coming.
Said she was tired of being in the modeling office. That she needed a distraction. Something more exciting. And really, what was more exciting than tagging along with Liam Carter on a dangerous, international trip.
Liam had hesitated for all of five seconds before caving.
Now she was here, legs up, smirking, enjoying the ride.
"You nervous?" she asked suddenly, raising an eyebrow.
Liam smirked faintly. "No. Just thinking."
"About her?" Lana tilted her head.
Liam didnât answer.
He closed his eyes, letting his body relax into the seat.
Russia.
Jack.
Ann.
Royal blood and dirty business.
He didnât know what kind of hell was waiting for him thereâbut for once, he didnât care.
Whatever this trip broughtâopportunity or misfortuneâhe was ready.
He had to be.
****
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