"I feel like you might be angry... but maybe I’m wrong."
There was a slight tension in Blake’s voice and, together with the way his heartbeat sped up, Myles felt his thoughts clear almost imdiately.
"It isn’t sothing you should worry about."
He knew those words wouldn’t be particularly reassuring.
Surprisingly, though, Blake seed sowhat satisfied with the answer.
As Blake closed his eyes, Myles kept watching him.
Slowly, the frantic rhythm beneath his ribs began to settle.
His heartbeat grew steadier.
His breathing deepened.
’They made their choice.’
To say he wasn’t surprised would have been an understatent.
Still, they had taken things too far.
There were many people like him scattered around the world, all chasing different objectives.
The most common ambition was simple: wipe everything out.
Just like a certain soone.
Others preferred a slower approach. Rather than destruction, they sought superiority over humanity itself.
Despite how similar these factions truly were, they inevitably turned against each other sooner or later.
’It’s either Trix... or Ren’s people.’
Because all of them carried alien DNA, there was a simple way to identify one another.
Physical contact. A single touch was enough, but so took the idea even further.
They injected fragnts of their DNA into fetuses of other species, creating spies that could move unnoticed and carry information without exposing anyone important.
"Mh..."
Myles brushed a hand through Blake’s hair before lowering his head and gently pressing their foreheads together.
Then he stood. Crossing the room, he opened his closet.
His fingers tapped a specific sequence against the back panel.
A soft chanical hum answered him.
The rear wall slid apart, revealing a concealed compartnt filled with intricate machinery.
Thin conduits pulsed faintly beneath transparent panels.
At the center rested a recessed scanner.
Beside it, a slender needle erged from a hidden slot.
Myles extended his arm and pressed it against the scanner.
The needle darted forward.
A shallow puncture ford along his forearm, only enough to draw blood.
Several crimson droplets rolled idnto the collection chamber below.
The machine imdiately ca alive.
Countless symbols flashed across the display as the sample was analyzed.
Myles selected a destination.
Teleportation itself wasn’t revolutionary anymore.
AL-TECH had possessed the technology for years.
The reason the public never saw it was another matter entirely.
The system relied on alien genetic material.
Without it, a fully human body couldn’t survive transit.
People like Myles could adapt to the process.
Their altered biology endured the violent reconstruction occurring between departure and arrival.
Humans couldn’t.
The mont transportation began, their bodies would simply co apart at the molecular level.
In less than a second, there would be nothing left to save.
Myles reached forward and placed his hand against the illuminated panel.
Of course it was made by Myles’ people, t make sure only their genetic pattern could be accepted.
A low vibration traveled through the compartnt, aning the machine accepted the genetic signature almost instantly.
For a brief mont, the world distorted.
The sensation lasted less than a heartbeat.
When his vision cleared, he found himself standing inside a narrow transit locker built directly into a concrete wall.
The compartnt was barely large enough for a person to stand upright.
Ergency lighting cast a faint glow across the tal interior.
A concealed transport node.
One of many scattered throughout the whole country.
To anyone else, it would look like nothing more than an abandoned maintenance cabinet.
Myles pushed open the hidden door and stepped out.
A deserted alley greeted him.
The surrounding buildings blocked most of the sunlight.
There were no caras.
The door silently sealed itself behind him.
Myles shoved his hands into his pockets and began walking, but he didn’t have to go far.
Only a few minutes later, he saw it.
The cat.
Curled atop a stack of discarded crates, waiting.
The animal lifted its head, its pale eyes settling on him.
Myles’ expression darkened, slowly approaching.
The cat remained still, not because it trusted him, but because it understood exactly what he was.
Myles stopped in front of it.
The cat stared up at him, its tail flicking once.
Then Myles crouched.
His hand descended toward its neck.
The cat didn’t resist, didn’t even move.
For a split second, his fingers brushed through its fur, then they tightened.
A sharp crack echoed through the alley.
The body went limp imdiately.
Myles remained crouched there, looking at it.
The lifeless animal dangled from his hand, its eyes remaining open, watching nothing.
He stared for several seconds, then he stood, the corpse hanging at his side.
Without another glance, he walked away.
A few streets later, he stopped.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small circular device no larger than a coin.
He pressed the center.
A faint light flashed.
Signal transmitted.
The button disappeared back into his pocket.
Myles turned around and retraced his steps.
Soon, he returned to the sa alley.
The concealed locker remained hidden between two stained concrete walls.
He opened it and stepped inside.
The transport system recognized him imdiately.
The machinery activated, space twisting once more.
A second later, he erged inside one of his bases.
"What is it? I was sleeping."
A man sitting on a nearby sofa shoved his sleep mask upward and squinted at him.
His voice carried the unmistakable irritation of soone who had been dragged out of bed.
Myles ignored the complaint.
"Where’s Estelle?"
The man groaned.
"How would I know?"
He rubbed his face.
"You know she doesn’t magically appear the second you call her."
With another annoyed sigh, he pushed himself upright.
Only then did he notice the cat.
"What the hell is that thing?"
Taking the body from Myles’ hand, he inspected it.
Myles walked toward the computer stations.
"It was near my house."
The man’s face imdiately twisted.
"Then it’s Ren. That’s exactly the kind of bastard he is."
He tossed the cat onto a nearby table.
"Always using walking animals. Never birds."
Myles sat down in front of the surveillance console.
Dozens of feeds illuminated the monitors.
The area surrounding his ho appeared from multiple angles.
The man watched him for a mont before sighing.
"Why are you this tense?"
Silence.
Then the man narrowed his eyes.
"Or is this about that guy?"
"Alexis."
At the sound of his own na, he felt a chill crawl down his spine.
Then he frowned.
"Hey, don’t get carried away."
His gaze sharpened.
For a mont, neither spoke.
Alexis folded his arms.
"I thought you were planning to kill him, or whatever, kidnap him for questioning."
Myles remained focused on the screens.
"Now you’re spending ti with him. Last ti, I was surprised, seeing you two even buy groceries together."
Alexis stepped forward, his hand landing heavily on Myles’ shoulder.
"Don’t forget what’s in front of you."
Then he froze.
Because Myles finally looked at him.
Those black eyes, they seed to say only one thing.
I never forgot.
Alexis released him.
A few monts later, the door opened, a woman entering.
Alexis imdiately sighed in relief.
"Finally."
Without another word, he returned to the sofa.
Monts later, the sleep mask was back over his eyes.
Myles looked toward the newcor.
"Estelle."
"What?"
"Check the collar."
She glanced at the dead cat.
"Yeah, got it."
Taking a seat beside him, she crossed one leg over the other.
"By the way."
Myles turned slightly.
"I checked the pictures you sent throughoutly, but there isn’t any ocular implant."
Myles humd quietly.
That complicated things.
So month before, he had fed Blake specially engineered sleeping pills.
Strong enough to keep him unconscious for several hours, but long enough for a proper examination.
Myles had manually opened Blake’s eyelids and photographed every angle of his eyes.
Again and again.
Because he was certain he had seen sothing.
Tiny shifts.
Brief flickers.
Monts where Blake appeared to focus on empty air.
A retinal interface would explain everything.
AL-TECH used them constantly.
A microscopic synthetic layer surgically integrated behind the cornea and connected directly to the optic nerve.
Unlike glasses or contact lenses, the display existed inside the user’s vision itself.
Data.
Maps.
ssages.
Biotric readings.
Everything could be projected directly into their sight without anyone else noticing.
Scientists used them.
Military officers used them.
Spies relied on them.
It had been the most reasonable explanation, and now it was gone, because Blake didn’t have one.
aning he wasn’t an AL-TECH spy
Estelle leaned back in her chair.
"That leaves completely lost."
She rubbed her temple.
"That guy is Anlorta’s bastard child."
Her expression remained thoughtful.
"The Anlortas have deep ties to AL-TECH. They did even back when Patrick Olsen was CEO."
It wasn’t an unreasonable assumption.
Soone like Blake could easily be used as an expendable informant.
A disposable asset.
The kind organizations sacrificed without hesitation.
"Still," Estelle added, "that doesn’t clear him."
She turned her monitor around.
"I found sothing."
A photograph appeared on the screen.
Myles’ eyes narrowed imdiately.
It was blurry, and with a pitiful quality, captured from a distance.
Yet unmistakable.
Blake sat inside a black vehicle, a baseball cap hiding much of his face.
Even so, a dark bruise stretched across his cheek.
Myles’ jaw tightened.
"Where?"
"One of the security caras around Arabella Anlorta’s villa."
Estelle shrugged.
"I only had access for a second before they kicked out."
Her finger tapped the image.
"This is all I managed to save."
The room fell silent.
After several seconds, Myles stood.
"Thanks."
Estelle nodded.
Myles turned and walked toward the transport chamber.
’What exactly are you hiding?’
The thought followed him.
Blake was an enigma.
At tis completely transparent.
At others impossible to understand.
Even his heartbeat had changed over ti.
And now, Myles could no longer completely ignore what those changes ant. At the sa ti, there was no denying Blake was in an ambiguously dangerous position.
Monts later, he arrived back inside his bedroom closet.
The hidden compartnt sealed itself behind him.
Silence returned.
Only one heartbeat reached his ears.
It was slow, steady and still asleep.
He crossed the room, carefully, he pulled back the blankets.
Blake didn’t stir as Myles lifted the hem of his shirt and pants, checking his arms and legs.
There were yellow bruises, so, nearly healed, but still there.
Myles stood motionless beside the bed, looking down.
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