The soft chatter of families filled the air as they strolled down the busy street. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows, and the aroma of freshly baked bread wafted from a nearby bakery. Leon walked between his parents, his backpack slung over one shoulder, bouncing slightly with each step.
“So, how was school today?” his mother asked, her voice light as she tucked her hands into her coat pockets.
“It was good,” Leon replied, glancing up at her with a faint smile. “Mila and I totally dominated in gym class. Dodgeball. It wasn’t even close.”
“Oh? What happened?” his father asked, an eyebrow raised.
Leon’s smile grew, a spark of pride lighting up his face. “Well, I told Mila we should go after Todd first. He’s their best player, so I figured if we took him out, his team would panic. Mila pretended to target Jacob, and I got Todd with a side throw.”
“Smart thinking,” his father said with a nod. “A solid strategy. Looks like you’re not just playing—you’re planning, too.”
“Exactly!” Leon said, his voice rising with excitement. “Mila said it was my best idea yet. We totally won because of it.”
His mother chuckled softly, the warmth in her eyes unmistakable. “It sounds like you two make a great team.”
Leon nodded, but as the conversation shifted to other things—the weather, a new shop opening down the street—his replies became shorter, his voice quieter.
His parents didn’t miss it. They kept talking, their words flowing naturally, but their attention stayed on their son. His shoulders seemed a little lower, and his usual energy was fading.
Without a word, his mother brushed her hand against her husband’s, giving it a brief squeeze. He didn’t need her to say anything; they’d been through enough quiet moments like this to understand.
After a pause, his father spoke up. “You know, I was thinking about pasta for dinner like we planned…” He glanced toward Leon with a casual smile. “But it’s been a long day. What do you say we mix it up and head to La Prima instead?”
Leon blinked, his brow lifting. “La Prima? Really?”
“Why not?” his father said, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Feels like a special kind of day. Captain Leon deserves a hero’s feast, don’t you think?”
His mother turned her gaze to Leon, her tone playful. “And their garlic bread is calling my name. What do you think, honey?”
Leon’s grin returned, as bright as ever. “Yes! La Prima’s garlic bread is the best! And their lasagna—it’s unbeatable!”
His parents chuckled, his mother’s fingers brushing her husband’s hand again, this time a silent thank-you for the thoughtfulness she loved him for.
As they turned toward the restaurant, Leon chattered happily, recounting more stories about gym class, Mila’s reactions, and superhero team-up ideas. Behind him, his parents exchanged a warm, knowing glance.
They didn’t need Leon to realize what they were doing. It was enough just to see him smile...
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Meanwhile, with night quickly approaching.
In the city’s depths, where the ordinary world faded into obscurity, a silence unlike any other reigned. The sun’s last light barely grazed the tops of skyscrapers, leaving the streets below in a haze of twilight. Far beneath the bustling life above, however, something stirred.
The facility was an enigma—a structure built to be hidden, its existence whispered only among those with the clearance to know. Buried deep within a maze of tunnels, it exuded an air of suffocation, its sterile corridors cold and unwelcoming. Monitors lined the walls, their green-tinted screens flickering with streams of data that only a handful could decipher. Doors marked with cryptic symbols and reinforced with layers of steel stood as silent sentinels, guarding secrets too dangerous for the world above.
The first sign of trouble was subtle, almost imperceptible: a faint hum that disrupted the quiet. A low vibration followed, rippling through the floor and up the walls, rattling the fixtures ever so slightly. Then, without warning, the facility was plunged into chaos.
A piercing alarm blared, its shrill, repetitive cry filling every corridor. Red emergency lights flared to life, casting the halls in an unsettling glow. The once-quiet complex now pulsed with a frantic energy, the sound of rushing footsteps and frantic shouts echoing through the labyrinth.
“Containment breach detected,” an automated voice announced in monotone. “Level X—Hazard Class: Omega. All personnel to emergency positions.”
In the control room, a technician’s hands flew over the console, their breath coming in shallow gasps. “This can’t be right,” they muttered, sweat beading on their temple. “There was no activity—no warning signs…”
Another technician leaned over, their face pale as they read the data on the screen. “It’s Subject A-013. Codename Nytheris.” The words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, no one spoke.
A sharp hiss interrupted the stunned silence as the heavy metal door to the control room slid open. A hooded figure entered, their presence commanding instant attention. They moved with purpose, the hem of their dark coat swishing softly against the floor. Their face remained obscured, but their voice cut through the chaos like a blade.
“Report.”
One technician rose shakily to their feet, pointing to the display. “Containment failure in Wing Delta. Subject A-013 has escaped its restraints and breached the inner defenses. It’s moving…”
Another technician interjected, their voice trembling. “It’s heading toward the outer sectors. We’ve activated lockdown protocols, but—”
“But it’s not enough,” the hooded figure finished coldly.
The air in the control room grew heavier, the gravity of the situation pressing down on every soul present. On the screen, a map of the facility displayed a glowing red dot, darting through corridors and bypassing barriers with alarming speed.
“Have you isolated the breach?”
“We’re not sure how it happened,” a third technician admitted. “All systems indicated dormancy until moments before the escape. It’s like it knew—like it was waiting.”
The figure’s gloved hands curled into fists. “Deploy every available unit. Contain it before it reaches the surface. I don’t care what it takes.”
“Yes, sir!”
A team of armed operatives, clad in tactical gear and carrying specialized weaponry, stormed past the control room. Their boots echoed in unison, their formation precise. They disappeared into the flickering shadows, heading toward the chaos.
Far below, in the depths of the facility, a distant roar rumbled through the air. It wasn’t natural—its sound carried a guttural, feral rage that made the walls vibrate and the lights flicker. The personnel in the control room froze, dread seeping into their bones.
Then came the second alarm, deeper and more resonant, signaling a catastrophic failure.
“Warning,” the automated voice droned. “Sector 12 perimeter compromised. Outer barrier breached.”
“No,” one technician whispered, their voice barely audible over the wailing alarms. “It’s outside.”
The hooded figure turned sharply, their calm demeanor now tinged with urgency. “Shut it down. Every exit, every path. Do it now!”
But it was too late.
Above, in the heart of the city, the evening air grew still. Streetlights flickered sporadically as if disturbed by an unseen force. A faint, unnatural hum rippled through the streets, carried on the breeze like a whisper of something forbidden. The people who walked those streets felt it instinctively—a chill that made them glance over their shoulders and quicken their pace.
Somewhere in the shadows, Nytheris was free.