The room was warm—warmer than anywhere Iris had been in weeks. A fire crackled in a small hearth, casting dancing shadows across the stone walls. A bed with actual blankets. A table with actual food. A bowl of soup, still steaming, sat beside her, half-finished. Bread, fresh enough to be edible, rested on a small plate.
Iris sat propped against pillows, a cloth wrapped around her thin frame. She was paler than anyone remembered. Thinner. Weaker. The woman who had once commanded fear and respect was now a shadow, hollowed out by solitude and starvation.
Henry stood at the foot of the bed, his lab coat rumpled, his eyes sharp behind wire-rimmed glasses. Nyx leaned against the wall near the door, their iridescent skin shifting through slow, thoughtful colors. Kael stood closest to the bed, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
Iris stared at the soup bowl for a long moment. Then, without looking up, she spoke.
"What do you want to know?"
Her voice was weak. Thin. A ghost of what it had been.
Henry stepped forward. "Let's start small. What's your name?"
She was quiet for so long he thought she might not answer. Then:
"Iris."
Just that. One word. Like she'd forgotten she had a name at all.
Henry nodded, exchanging a glance with Kael. "Iris. Okay. Tell us everything you know about the new virus."
Iris shook her head slowly. "I don't know anything. Only Prime rank or above would have that information." She paused, her fingers brushing the edge of the soup bowl. "I was just a Superior. They don't tell us things like that."
Kael's jaw tightened. "Does it have an antidote? Something that could stop it?"
"It doesn't." Her voice was flat, certain. "They designed it that way. No antidote. No cure. Just death."
Kael exchanged another look with Henry. This wasn't helpful. This wasn't what they needed.
"So you don't know anything?" Kael's voice was harder now, frustration bleeding through.
Iris finally looked up. Her eyes—once sharp, once commanding—were dull, distant. "No."
Silence settled over the room.
Nyx pushed off the wall, moving closer. Their voice was soft, almost gentle—a stark contrast to the violence they'd unleashed hours ago.
"How did you come to be like this?"
Iris's gaze dropped to her hands. Thin. Trembling. She stared at them for a long moment, as if seeing them for the first time.
One word escaped her lips.
"Jenny."
Just that. A name.
But the weight of it filled the room like smoke.
Nyx's eyes narrowed. "Jenny Damber?"
Iris nodded slowly. "She... she used me. Manipulated me. Made me think she cared." Her voice cracked. "I cleaned her boots while she ate people. I gave her everything. And when she was done with me..." She trailed off.
"They threw you away," Kael finished.
Iris didn't respond. She didn't need to.
Henry moved to the side table, refilling her cup with water. "You're safe now. No one here is going to hurt you."
Iris looked at him—really looked—and for a moment, something flickered in those dull eyes. Something almost like hope.
"Why?" she whispered. "Why save me? I tried to kill you. All of you. I would have let you die without a second thought."
Kael met her gaze steadily. "Because you're not our enemy anymore. Jenny Damber is. The Architects are. Anyone who stands between us and stopping this virus is."
He paused.
"And because no one deserves to die alone in a white room."
Iris stared at him for a long, trembling moment. Then her face crumpled.
The tears came silently at first—just a few, tracking down her hollow cheeks. Then her shoulders shook, and a sound escaped her—a sob, raw and broken, dragged up from somewhere deep.
Nyx moved to the bed, sitting beside her, a hand hovering near her shoulder. Not touching. Just there.
"I'm sorry," Iris gasped between sobs. "I'm so sorry. I didn't... I didn't know what she was. I didn't know what I was doing. I just wanted someone to—to see me. To care. And she—she—"
"Shh." Nyx's voice was impossibly gentle. "It's over now. You're here. You're safe."
Iris cried until she had nothing left.
When she finally slept, curled on her side like a child, the others withdrew to the corner of the room.
"She doesn't know anything about the virus," Henry said quietly. "That's a dead end."
"She knows Jenny." Kael's voice was cold. "She knows what it's like to be used by her. That's valuable."
Nyx looked back at the sleeping woman. "She's broken."
"Maybe." Kael's eyes were distant, calculating. "But broken things can be rebuilt. And right now, she's the best lead we have."
The fire crackled. The soup grew cold. And Iris slept, dreaming of white rooms and smiling monsters, unaware that her new life had just begun.