The room was dim—lit only by the soft blue glow of Wren's tablet and the faded pulse of a damaged power core in the center of the chamber. Dust floated in the air like ash. They'd set up a temporary base in the ruins of a decommissioned transit hub beneath Enclave Nine.
Asher stood beside Wren, arms crossed, jaw tight.
The others lingered nearby, silent.
Wren didn't speak immediately. She was still trying to process it herself.
But the name wouldn't stop glowing.
Asher Cael Vireth.
"That's not just a record," she said, fingers trembling over the screen. "It's a designation. You were Project Genesis."
The room went still.
Asher blinked, a cold weight forming in his chest. "What?"
Wren nodded slowly. "You weren't just born a Shatterborn. You were created."
"No," Zara said, stepping forward. "That project was shut down before it even got off the ground. It was theorized, not executed."
"Apparently," Wren whispered, "they lied."
She tapped into the file.
Dozens of images flickered—medical reports, genetic diagrams, quantum resonance charts. Then a short video clip. Grainy. Time-stamped Year 108.
On the screen: a small boy strapped to a metal cradle, veins glowing faintly with blue-white light, eyes closed, not crying. Observers in Council robes watched through reinforced glass.
"Subject V-7 has reached stabilization," one voice said. "No signs of rejection. Begin imprint sequence."
The video cut off.
Asher turned away, fists clenched.
Zara stepped toward him, voice gentle. "We don't know what they did to you."
"No," he muttered, "but it explains why I feel like I'm becoming something else. Why the fractures are growing."
Mira leaned forward from where she sat. "They didn't just want weapons. They wanted gods."
"And when it worked," Wren said, "they buried it. Buried you."
Echo placed a massive hand on Asher's shoulder. A soft grunt of solidarity. Asher looked up at him—and then at the others.
"We can't just be fighting the Crest or the Council anymore," he said. "We have to destroy whatever this is. Whatever they were building. Or it'll never stop."
Wren swiped through the rest of the file. Her eyes widened. "There's another name."
Asher tensed. "Who?"
Wren hesitated. "Project V-8. Codenamed Ardent. They never completed activation… but the notes say something about dormant containment, deep within the Citadel Vault."
"The Citadel?" Zara's voice sharpened. "That's the Council's sanctum. No one breaks in there."
Asher turned slowly. "Then we'll be the first."
A silence stretched.
Rafe cracked his knuckles. "I've always wanted to punch a sanctum guard."
Mira smirked. "Of course you have."
Zara's gaze settled on Asher. "You think this Ardent might be like you?"
"I don't know," he said. "But if someone else was born from the same experiment… I need to find them. I need to know if I'm the only one."
Wren nodded. "Then we start planning. We'll need maps, overrides, backdoors, and a miracle."
Echo pointed to himself, then gave a shrug. Maybe I am the miracle.
The group chuckled lightly—tension momentarily cut.
But deep inside Asher, the fracture stirred again.
Something had been awakened.
And it was no longer sleeping quietly.
***
The storm had been brewing for hours, thick clouds swirling in unnatural patterns above the Citadel. Asher stood beneath them on a rooftop across from the entrance, his cloak dancing in the gusting wind. Around him, his crew crouched in silence: Rafe checking his kinetic gloves, Echo tapping one massive foot in anticipation, Silas with his rifle already locked in position, and Wren—her eyes flickering with data as she finalized the breach protocol. Zara stood closest to Asher, the two of them exchanging a brief glance. No words. Just mutual resolve.
"We only get one shot at this," Wren murmured, the soft glow from her wrist console lighting up her face. "Once we override the outer shields, we have exactly three minutes before the Citadel's inner defense AI kicks in."
"And that AI doesn't mess around," Silas added. "I've seen it vaporize a whole rebel squad in under ten seconds."
"Then we stay fast and quiet until we reach the Archive Core," Asher said. "No heroics."
Zara nodded but her fingers brushed against Asher's briefly. "Let's make it count."
Wren's fingers danced, sending a stream of silent pulses toward the Citadel's shield generators. A low hum echoed across the air as the outer defenses flickered and vanished. "Go!"
They launched into motion. Echo leapt first, his seismic abilities absorbing the force of the five-story drop. Asher followed, shadow warping around him as he phased through a reinforced wall. Silas remained high, sniper scope scanning for threats. Rafe dropped alongside Zara, igniting a shockwave to shatter the access panel. Wren landed last, immediately patching into the internal system.
Inside, the Citadel was a labyrinth of obsidian corridors and glinting lights. The deeper they went, the colder the air became—not in temperature, but in atmosphere. It felt sterile, ancient, wrong. A place where freedom came to die.
"Two guards incoming," Silas' voice buzzed in their comms. Pfft. Pfft. Two silenced shots echoed faintly. "Clear."
Zara and Asher moved as one, their synergy flawless. She cleared the paths ahead with kinetic bursts while Asher used Judgment to silently disable a rogue Shatterborn patrol, his latest acquired ability rendering their illusions useless.
As they reached the inner sanctum, alarms blared—Wren's three minutes had passed.
"We're live!" she shouted, diving behind a pillar as defense turrets emerged.
"Cover Wren!" Asher commanded.
Echo charged, slamming into the floor and cracking it wide open, disrupting the turret base. Silas provided precision cover, his shots dismantling control nodes. Rafe and Zara unleashed chaos together, their abilities a synchronized storm. Asher pushed ahead, reaching the vault-like Archive Core.
"I'm in," Wren panted. "But I'll need another sixty seconds."
"You've got thirty," Asher replied.
Doors crashed open behind them—Council guards in sleek armor, enhanced and ready. The real fight began.
Asher's body moved like instinct, every motion backed by judgment and experience. Shadows flared, blades of light were shattered, and echoes of punishment pulsed from his core.
Echo and Silas backed him, while Rafe held the hallway. Zara flew between Wren and danger, shielding the tech genius with precision forcefields.
Then the lights dimmed. A voice echoed through the Citadel:
"You've come far, Asher. But this is the end of your defiance."
Talon stepped into the light, clad in Council armor, pulsing with stolen Essence.
Asher's expression hardened. "Then let's finish what you started."