Xavier’s breathing had changed. Shallow. Controlled. Like he was fighting to stay present.
“What makes Quinta different?”
Hellhound’s gaze flicked to Xavier, then back to me. “Previous generations, Prima through Quarta, relied on psychological conditioning and periodic injections. No hardware. They were stable, but maintenance-heavy. Quinta changed that. The fifth generation added a technological component.”
The chip. He was talking about the fucking chip.
“What does that mean?”
“It means Xavier didn’t just get psychological conditioning. They implanted a device specifically designed to make the programming permanent.”
My stomach dropped. “Permanent.”
“The system is threaded through his brain’s blood vessels. Electronic components interface with neural tissue at the C7 vertebra.” Hellhound zoomed in on the tablet screen, pointing to the spiderweb of metal barely visible in the scan. “See these filaments? They release a derivative of PSI-317, the chemical compound used in conditioning, in controlled micro-doses.”
“PSI-317.” The name meant nothing to me. “What does it do?”
“Reinforces neural pathways created during conditioning. Suppresses prefrontal cortex activity associated with autonomous decision-making. Maintains complianceindefinitely without need for reconditioning sessions.” He looked up. “It’s chemical enslavement at the neurological level.”
I had to set my mug down before I dropped it. My hands were shaking too hard.
The room tilted. I gripped Xavier’s hand harder. “You’re saying they put a device in him that’s been drugging him to keep him obedient.”
“Yes.”
I was going to be sick.
“But something went wrong.” Hellhound’s attention shifted back to Xavier. “You broke free somehow. The conditioning failed catastrophically enough that you escaped Oblivion’s custody. I suspect it has a link to your extensive injuries.”
Xavier nodded slowly.
“When that happened, the implant’s regulation system was likely damaged. Instead of controlled micro-doses, it’s now leaking PSI-317 uncontrolled.” Hellhound tapped the screen where Xavier’s skull showed slight asymmetry. “This shadow here, intracranial pressure from chemical accumulation. The uneven pupil dilation you mentioned. The dissociative episodes. All symptoms of a massive overdose.”
“Wait.” I leaned forward. “The seizures. The episodes where he zones out. That’s all from this overdose?”
My hands started shaking. Coffee sloshed over the rim of my mug. “Overdose.”
“The device was designed to maintain conditioning with carefully calibrated doses. Xavier’s breakdown damaged the calibration. Now it’s flooding his system with exponentially higher concentrations than intended.”
“What happens with an overdose of PSI-317?”
Hellhound met my gaze. Didn’t flinch. “Progressive brain tissue destruction. Starting with higher cognitive functions,memory, decision-making, personality. Eventually autonomic systems fail. Respiratory. Cardiac.”
No. No, no, no.
I couldn’t process this. Couldn’t accept it.
“Wait.” I looked at Xavier, thinking about the injuries from the river. The dislocated shoulder I’d relocated in my freezing apartment. The deep head wound. The rib lacerations. “He’s been healing faster than he should. I thought it was just... I don’t know, good genetics or something.”
Hellhound’s expression shifted. “You noticed.”
“His shoulder was dislocated. Badly. That should take weeks to regain mobility. He was using it in combat within days.”
“The continuous micro-dosing.” Hellhound pulled up another scan, this one showing cellular activity. “PSI-317 in periodic injections, the way most conditioning programs use it, doesn’t affect healing rates. But the implant’s constant release, even at suppression levels, triggers accelerated cellular regeneration. Approximately three times normal human rates. An unintended side effect Dresner likely didn’t anticipate when he designed the delivery system.”
My stomach dropped. “So when we deactivate the chip...”
“His healing returns to normal human rates. Yes.” Hellhound’s voice was gentle. “He’ll still heal. Just not superhuman anymore.”
