After glancing through the data, Damian’s brow furrowed in mild disappointment. There wasn’t much information—at least, not the detailed insights he had hoped for. He flipped through the files Anabella had given him, scanning line after line of incomplete notes, vague readings, and fragmented reports. It was clear that the scientists working here had deliberately sloppy, likely because they never thought anyone would need this type of data.

With a quiet sigh, Damian handed the documents over to Beth, who stood rigidly by her workstation. Her expression hadn’t softened since their earlier exchange, her body language still brimming with frustration.

"Go into the system," Damian said, his tone calm but authoritative. "Categorize each Ray Sphere test, and pull up every power reading. I also want a detailed log of what components were damaged after each test."

Beth blinked at him, incredulous. "That’ll take a long time," she said, her voice edged with a hint of defiance. "If you want it done quickly, ask Anabella. She can handle it while I focus on more important work."

Damian chuckled softly, amused by her audacity. He stepped closer, his presence casting a long shadow over her. "This is important, Beth," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous calm. "And besides, I need Anabella to handle something else for me."

Beth glared at him, her lips pressing into a thin line. When Damian dropped the documents on her desk, she refused to pick them up, staring at the pile as if it were a personal insult. The tension in the air was palpable, but Damian wasn’t bothered. He enjoyed these small victories—playing this meaningless game with the woman.

Without waiting for a response, Damian turned and walked over to Anabella, who was still engrossed in her work. She glanced up as he approached, her green eyes wide with anticipation.

"Anabella," Damian said, his voice smooth and almost casual, "I need you to check out three samples of the RFE irradiated debris. Make sure you’re wearing a hazmat suit. I don’t want you catching the plague or worse."

Anabella’s eyes widened, and she quickly nodded, her voice filled with sincerity. "Thank you, Mr. Smith. I’ll be careful."

Damian offered her a brief smile before gesturing for her to get started. He watched as Anabella hurried off, her eagerness to follow orders almost comical. She was clearly relieved to be given an important task, and more importantly, she was keen to stay in his good graces. That made her useful.

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As Anabella exited the lab, Damian turned back toward Beth, who was still fuming silently. He didn’t say another word to her, instead leaving the lab. There were other matters to attend to, and he wasn’t going to waste time on someone who would rather brood than comply.

Damian strode down the sterile halls of the facility, his mind already shifting to his next objective. Sasha. He could sense her presence not far away in the lab, their unique energy signature was quite easy to pick up among each other. She was still disguised as a male First Son soldier, blending in perfectly with the lower ranks.

It didn’t take long for Damian to reach one of the guard stations, where he found Sasha standing at attention. She was currently enduring a verbal lashing from a superior officer, a gruff, thickset man with a perpetually sour expression. The officer’s voice was grating, laced with irritation as he berated Sasha for abandoning her post.

"Where the hell have you been?" the superior growled, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "And where’s the other guy—the one who’s supposed to be with you? We don’t tolerate missing personnel, soldier. You should know that by now!"

Damian chuckled softly, his amusement evident as he stepped forward to interrupt the tirade. "He’s with me," Damian said smoothly, his tone cutting through the superior’s anger like a blade. "I asked for him personally."

The superior immediately stiffened, turning sharply to face Damian. His eyes widened when he recognized who had spoken. Without missing a beat, the officer snapped into a salute, his irritation instantly replaced with a forced respect. "Mr. Smith! I didn’t realize—"

Damian waved him off with a casual flick of his hand, his expression one of mild amusement. "No need for formalities," he said, his voice calm but laced with authority. "I apologize for the confusion. I needed this soldier for a special test. Nothing you need to worry about."

The superior hesitated for a brief moment, clearly unhappy with the sudden change in direction, but he knew better than to argue with someone of Damian’s rank. Begrudgingly, he gave a stiff nod. "Understood, sir," he muttered, clearly biting back his frustration. With that, the officer turned on his heel and began walking away, muttering under his breath about insubordination and missed duties.

As soon as the superior was out of earshot, Sasha shifted back to her battle form. Her previously nondescript male soldier appearance melted away, revealing her true self—sleek, deadly, and dangerous. Her piercing gaze followed the superior as he retreated, her lips curling into a cruel smile.

Without warning, her bladed tail lashed out like a striking viper, stabbing the superior in the heart. His body jerked violently, eyes wide with shock as blood bubbled from his lips. He had no time to react, no time to cry out. The life drained from his body in an instant, his face frozen in an expression of disbelief.

Sasha’s tail didn’t stop there. The moment the superior’s heart ceased beating, her biomass leaked from the bladed tip, covering his body like a thick, living sludge. Within seconds, the biomass engulfed him, breaking him down and fusing back into Sasha’s form with a single drop of blood falling to the ground.

As the biomass retracted, Sasha’s body shifted once more, morphing into the superior’s shape. Now, where the officer had stood moments ago, there was an exact replica—Sasha in his form, complete with his uniform and sour expression. It was seamless, perfect. No one would ever suspect a thing.

Damian smiled, clearly pleased with the display. "Efficient as always," he said, his tone casual as if they were discussing nothing more than a routine task. "Now, let’s get back to work. We’ve got a lot to do, and I don’t intend to waste any more time than necessary."

Sasha, in her new form, gave a curt nod, her voice now an exact mimicry of the superior’s gruff tone. "Understood, sir."