Kai Langford - October 2120
The drive back to the school feels longer than it should, the kind of silence that settles in your bones rather than just the space around you. The road stretches out ahead in dim strips of light, and I keep my focus there, steady, controlled… but it never stays for long.
My attention keeps drifting back to Daniel.
He's slumped in the passenger seat, head tilted awkwardly against the window, his breathing uneven at first. Every slight pause pulls at something instinctive in me, something sharp and immediate. My eyes flick toward him again, measuring, listening, counting without meaning to.
He said he was fine to drive.
He wasn't.
I knew it the second he said it, heard it in the way his voice dragged slightly at the edges, saw it in the way his movements weren't as precise as they should be. Letting him take the wheel would have been careless when he was clearly showing signs of burning out.
The car slows as I approach a red light, the glow washing faintly across the dashboard. For a moment, everything feels suspended, everything feels quiet.
Before I can think it through, I lean across slightly, lifting my hand to hover just beneath his nose. The air is faint but there, brushing against my skin in a slow, steady rhythm.
Slower than before, it's more stable now.
Relief settles in, quiet but noticeable, like something unclenching deep in my chest. I lean back into my seat, exhaling slowly, my grip on the wheel easing just slightly.
My gaze drifts upward, catching the rear-view mirror.
The box in the back seat sits there, dark and unassuming, but I can feel its weight without looking directly at it.
Explosives.
For a moment, the thought comes uninvited, slipping in before I can stop it. We should have just used them. It would have been easier.
Ray would have died either way and Daniel wouldn't be like this.
Ethan... I already know the look he'll give me when I tell him.
Not anger. It's never anger with him. It's something quieter, something that sits behind his eyes and asks questions he doesn't say out loud. Questions I won't have answers for.
I look away from the mirror, dragging a hand back through my hair, grounding myself in the motion.
There's no point thinking about it now.
What's done is done.
The light turns green, and I press forward.
By the time we reach the school, the night has settled in fully, the buildings standing in shadow, familiar but… off, somehow.
I pull into a space and cut the engine. The sudden absence of sound feels heavier than the drive itself, pressing in around us.
For a moment, I just sit there, listening.
Then I reach over, placing a hand on Daniel's shoulder and giving him a light shake.
"Hey," I say quietly. "We're back."
He doesn't respond at first. His breathing shifts, uneven again for a second before he finally jerks awake, his head lifting too quickly as his eyes dart around, trying to catch up.
"What-" He pauses, blinking. "Oh… we're back already."
He rubs at his eyes, but it does nothing to hide how drained he is. It's in the way his shoulders sit slightly lower than usual, the way his movements lack their usual sharpness.
I push the door open and step out, the cool air hitting instantly. "Come on," I say, glancing back at him. "Let's get you to Sophie."
He follows a second later, slower, like his body is arguing with him over every step. "I'm fine," he mutters. "I just need sleep."
I watch him for a moment, taking in the slight sway in his posture, the way he exhales a little too heavily.
"Better to be sure," I say, my voice even. Then, after a small pause, "You don't want Tessa worrying about you again."
That lands exactly where I expect it to.
He exhales sharply, tension slipping into the sound. "Fine…"
We start toward the building, footsteps quiet against the ground, but after a few steps, he slows, then stops entirely.
I turn back to him, waiting.
There's something in the way he stands there, like he's trying to decide whether to say something or leave it.
"Kai," he says finally, his voice quieter now, more uncertain than I've heard it before. "We… we had no option but to kill Ray. You know that, right?"
For a moment, I don't answer.
I know it. Logically, there's no doubt. But knowing it doesn't make it sit any easier. My gaze shifts away from him, settling somewhere just past his shoulder.
"I know" I say, the words steady, even if they don't feel that way underneath.
There's a pause that stretches a little too long.
"You did good in there" I add, because it feels necessary. Because he needs to hear it, even if he won't admit that he does.
He scoffs, the sound rough. "Barely. He almost took me out when he threw me against the wall. If it wasn't for you-"
He cuts himself off, like the words catch somewhere he doesn't want to look too closely.
"Just… thanks."
It catches me off guard.
Not the words themselves, but the way he says them, like they cost him something.
For a second, I don't respond. I'm not used to this, not from him.
He notices immediately, a small laugh slipping out as he shakes his head. "Don't think too much about it. I still don't like you."
A faint smile forms before I can stop it, small but genuine. "Didn't expect anything else."
We continue toward the main building, but something shifts as we get closer.
It starts as a feeling, subtle but persistent, like something just out of place. Then it settles... it's too quiet.
There should be noise by now. Someone noticing the car, the engine, the return. Ethan is always the first to come running out those doors, not matter what time of day it is.
But now, there is nothing. No lights, no voices and no movement behind the windows. The absence feels wrong, heavy in a way I can't ignore.
I glance at Daniel, and he's already looking at me. He feels it too.
No words are needed.
My hand moves to my waist, drawing the gun in one smooth motion, the familiar weight settling into my grip. Daniel mirrors the action without hesitation.
We move forward more carefully now, each step measured, controlled, every sense sharpening.
Then I catch it. A faint glow off to the side at the science block. Light spills weakly from inside, just enough to stand out against everything else.
I tilt my head slightly toward it, and Daniel nods in understanding.
We change direction immediately, shifting course without breaking stride, guns raised slightly now, ready.
The closer we get, the heavier the air feels, like the silence is building toward something.
My thoughts narrow, focusing, instinct taking over where emotion tries to surface. But one thought still presses through, uninvited and impossible to ignore.
If something's happened to Ethan... My grip tightens slightly around the gun, steady but firm.
I push the door open slowly, keeping the movement controlled so it doesn't creak, my grip firm around the gun as I step inside. Daniel stays close behind me, his presence steady at my back, but my attention is already moving ahead, scanning the space, picking up on every detail that feels out of place.
The building doesn't feel empty. It feels wrong in a quieter way, like something has already happened and we're only just catching up to it.
We move through the corridor without speaking, our footsteps softened by instinct more than effort. My focus stays sharp, tracking the edges of shadows, the faint hum of electricity somewhere deeper in the building.
When we reach the door, light spills faintly through the cracks, thin lines cutting into the dark hallway. I slow slightly, lifting my gun as I angle myself toward it, pushing it open just enough to see inside.
The tension leaves my arm before I even think about it.
I lower the gun and glance back at Daniel, giving a small shake of my head.
Not a threat.
We step in properly, pushing the door open wider, and the room comes into full view. Edmund and Thomas sit in front of a cluster of monitors, the glow from the screens casting pale light across their faces while the low hum of the equipment fills the otherwise silent space.
Thomas reacts immediately, pushing himself up so quickly his chair scrapes against the floor.
"Kai? Daniel? You're back."
"Yeah," I say, sliding the gun back into its holster. "Just got back."
Daniel leans against the doorframe, his posture heavier now, like the exhaustion is finally settling in. "Are we still in lockdown?"
For a moment, neither of them answers.
Instead, Edmund and Thomas exchange a look, subtle but lingering just long enough to shift something in the air.
I notice it instantly.
Edmund stands, slower than usual, like he's choosing each movement carefully, and walks around the desk toward us. Thomas stays where he is, watching him with something close to concern written across his face.
That's when the unease sharpens into something more defined.
"What is it?" I ask, my voice steady, though there's an edge beneath it now that wasn't there before.
Edmund hesitates, and that hesitation says more than anything else could.
"Kai…" he begins, then glances at Daniel. "I need you, both of you, not to react recklessly at what i'm about to say."
The words settle heavily, and before I can stop it, something cold drops into my stomach, spreading outward in a way that feels instinctive rather than logical.
Beside me, Daniel straightens slightly and steps forward. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
But I don't look at him.
My focus stays on Edmund.
"Where's Ethan?" I ask, the question coming out quieter than expected, but sharper for it, stripped of anything unnecessary.
Edmund holds my gaze.
"He's gone after your brother. Along with Isaac and Tessa."
For a moment, the words don't sit properly.
"They're going after Noah?" I repeat, the confusion cutting through first. "What's that supposed to mean?"
A shift behind me interrupts the thought, followed by a voice that carries just enough strain to pull my attention instantly.
"It means he must've gone for Noah at the facility."
I turn without hesitation.
Finn is leaning against the doorframe, one hand bracing himself while the other presses against his stomach. Blood has soaked through his shirt, dark and heavy, the sight of it immediately pulling me forward.
I close the distance quickly, my hands already moving to check the wound, focusing on something practical, something I can control.
"What happened?" I ask, keeping my voice low, steady, even as urgency builds underneath it.
Finn exhales slowly, his breath uneven. "Your father found out about Noah meeting you," he says. "He took him."
The words settle in fully this time.
My father knows.
The realisation lands heavily, pressing into everything else at once. He knows Noah was meeting me, knows we were working together.
And... he took him. Not the GeneX headquarters, but to the facility.
Images surface without permission, drawn from memory rather than imagination, cold rooms and controlled environments, places designed to strip people down to what they can endure rather than who they are.
Now Noah is there, alone. The thought settles deeper, tightening in my chest.
And Ethan has followed him there immediately.
Ethan, who wouldn't hesitate for a second once he knew. Ethan, who would go straight there without stopping to think about what he was walking into, because leaving Noah behind wouldn't even be an option to him.
Because of me.
Because he knows what Noah means to me.
A quiet, controlled fear begins to build, not sudden or explosive, but steady and insistent, pressing outward in a way that's harder to ignore the longer it stays.
If Ethan is there now, walking into that place without knowing exactly what he's facing, without understanding how far my father is willing to go...
My jaw tightens slightly, the thought cutting off before it can go further.
I step back slightly, creating space without fully realising why, my attention shifting back toward Edmund and Thomas.
"And you're saying," I begin, my voice quieter now, controlled but strained at the edges, "you let Ethan go to the facility to get him back?"
There's no accusation in the words, not directly, but something sits underneath them, something heavier that I'm keeping in place through sheer control.
Around my feet, the shadows begin to shift, subtle at first, bending slightly where the light should fall cleanly before stretching further, reacting to something I'm holding down rather than letting out.
Because if I let it surface fully, I won't be able to think clearly.
And right now, thinking is the only thing keeping everything from breaking apart.
Noah is already there.
Ethan is heading straight toward him.
And my father is waiting.
My breathing stays steady, controlled through habit, but every instinct I have is pushing in the same direction now, urgent and unrelenting.
"Tell me exactly what happened," I say quietly, the calm in my voice feeling thinner now, like something that could crack if pushed even slightly further.
I have to get to them before it's too late.