Behind me, the corridor pulses red as emergency lights flicker. The compound groans—structurally compromised, according to Kallus’s comm-link. That means time’s up.
I sprint back through the smoke and debris, boots pounding over the cracked floor. Kallus lies slumped where I left him, blood slicking the front of his armor. His breathing is ragged but stubborn, just like him.
“Hang on, love,” I whisper, crouching and hooking my arms beneath his shoulders. “I’ve got you.”
He groans, but there’s no protest. His body is heavy, solid as stone. Reapers don’t die easy, but even he has limits.
Chelsea waits at the end of the hallway, clutching the broken staff of a lab guard like a weapon. Her cheeks are streaked with soot, but her stance is sure, her eyes—those crimson Reaper eyes—glow with a fire that startles even me.
She doesn’t cry. She doesn’t flinch.
“I’m ready,” she says simply, and I feel my heart tear in two.
She’s a child.
But she’s also Kallus’s.
Ours.
“Let’s go,” I say, and she nods once.
The Black Fang reapers clear our flanks, silent shadows of war, efficient and brutal. One of them—Rhegar, I think—nods at me as he plants explosives along a structural beam.
“Five minutes till this whole place drops,” he growls. “Move fast.”
Chelsea leads the way. I carry Kallus, half-dragging, half-cradling his massive body as we duck into a maintenance shaft. The walls tremble as distant booms echo behind us.
“Did… she…” Kallus murmurs, blood bubbling at his lips.
“She’s here,” I whisper back. “She’s safe. She bit that bastard’s finger clean off.”
A low chuckle rumbles from him. “My girl.”
The shaft opens into the sub-deck hangar. Black Fang fighters hover like deadly insects, engines hot, weapons primed. Rhegar waves us over, and I practically collapse as I lower Kallus onto the landing ramp of our ship.
Chelsea climbs in after him, eyes still glowing, small chest heaving.
“They’re right behind us,” she says, not a trace of fear in her voice.
Another explosion rocks the base. Fire belches from a side tunnel. Alarms scream.
I turn to look one last time—through the smoke and flame, I can almost see the test subjects we freed. Reaper hybrids. Twisted, half-born things finally unshackled from their cages.
They move like shadows in the firelight.
Free at last.
“Close it!” I shout, and the hatch seals behind me.
Inside, the ship is a whirlwind of shouted commands and Reaper song. Chelsea leans against Kallus, cradling his arm. I wrap my arms around them both.
And behind us, the lab compound erupts in a blossom of white-hot fire, taking Frederick’s legacy of cruelty with it.
Let it burn.
Let the whole fucking thing burn.
We’re going home.
