Michael looked sick. “It’s worse when you live it. They use that slogan everywhere — like a prayer. Every recruit learns it. They believe humanity’s evolution must beguided, not left to chance.”
Corey asked, “So what do they want from us? Why attack now?”
Michael hesitated. “The labs Ethan found… they weren’t research stations; they were holding facilities. Places for interrogation and analysis. They’ve been hunting anyone with hybrid DNA for years, trying to map the differences and when you showed yourself to them, they thought are they special or not! My note to them confirmed you have abilities.”
“Every ability they come across, every mutation ancestry. They log it in what they call thePurity Index.They think that once they understand every variation, they can cleanse it which means to erase it from the gene pool entirely.”
Barnaby looked up sharply. “You’re saying they’re collecting biological data, but killing entire blood lines? Why would they need to keep that information, what are they using it for?”
Michael nodded. “I honestly do not know.”
Davina’s voice broke the silence. “How many are we talking? How many of them?”
Michael swallowed. “Numbers are hard to pin down. The last time I had access to their databases, there were over a hundred thousand names on the payroll — and that’s just the surface-level staff. Scientists, agents, handlers, field units. But beneath that are the zealots, the ones who believe in the mission more than their own lives. They train them from childhood. Indoctrinate them.” His eyes unfocused slightly. “They don’t need loyalty. They breed it.”
The room fell quiet. Even Barnaby stopped typing.
Byron’s voice cut through softly. “You were one of them.”
Michael nodded. “I was raised in one of their satellite homes. They told me I was lucky — chosen to serve humanity’s next step.I didn’t realise I was being trained to help them find and destroy others like me.”
Lucy stirred faintly on the couch, murmuring in her sleep. The room stayed hushed.
Byron looked to Michael. “Who’s running it? Who gives the orders?”
Michael hesitated. “They don’t use real names. Every branch report’s to,The Prime Division.No one’s ever met the person at the top. Could be one man, could be a council. Doesn’t matter. What matters is that they move like a single mind. And once The Prime Division sets a target… they don’t stop.”
Mandy shivered. “So, they won’t stop until we’re gone.”
Michael nodded faintly. “Until everything non-human is gone. Until there’s nothing left but them.”
Davina muttered, “And they callusmonsters.”
The fire crackled in the hearth, throwing shadows across the walls. Everyone looked toward the windows, where the vines outside still twisted faintly in the light of dawn.
Corey spoke, “Well we have trained, and done our very best. We know it will take them time to get through, so reserve your energy, they’ll regret ever calling themselves enlightened.”
Byron placed a hand on his shoulder. “Agreed. Mandy! Can you tune into your wards and get a feel of where they are and then keep us posted. Everyone else can take turns watching.”
Michael looked up, guilt and fear warring in his expression. “They won’t stop, not for reason or mercy. But maybe… maybe they underestimated you.”
Corey headed towards the back to speak with the Doves, everyone was on high alert, but they also needed to reserve their energy.
Lucy stirred again, whispering something no one could quite hear. Her fingers twitched against the armrest.
Byron leaned closer, a faint flicker of worry in his eyes.
“Lucy?” Byron whispered, but she didn’t respond. Her breathing quickened, uneven and shallow.
Her mind was no longer here.
Lucy in her dream like state was standing in the middle of a frozen field. The snow was red. The air reeked of smoke and iron. Screams echoed through the wind, faint at first, then clearer, sharper, until they surrounded her.
Men shouted. Metal clashed. A child cried somewhere nearby.
Lucy turned, but the scene shifted faster than she could process. People, dozens, maybe hundreds they were running, falling, their blood soaking through the snow. She stumbled backward, and when she looked down, her hands were small. The world warped around her.
The dream had moved, now she was a child a little boy on his knees in the snow. A woman lay before him, bleeding out, reaching for his hand. She couldn’t hear what she was saying over the chaos, but her lips formed one word,run.
