The entire chamber shuddered.
Not a soft vibration.
Not the subtle ripple I'd felt earlier.
This was deeper.
A full-body tremor beneath the floor—
like someone had punched the walls from outside.
The lights blinked hard.
Once.
Twice.
Then stabilized.
My pulse leapt.
"Lucian…?"
No answer.
Of course not.
He couldn't respond.
Everything in here was one-way.
But the blue light under the table blinked again—
one long pulse.
Three short ones.
Grid breach started.
A tight breath left my lungs.
I pressed both hands to the cold tile, grounding myself against the sudden surge of hope curling warm and sharp beneath my ribs.
Then—
a faint burning sensation crept across my spine.
Not physical.
Instinctual.
The heat was returning.
Climbing.
I swallowed hard.
"Not yet," I whispered.
The chamber disagreed.
A chime crackled overhead:
"Prime heat progression: Stage-2 escalating.
Administering suppressant boost."
The vents hissed sharply.
A rushed cloud of cold suppression flooded the room.
I coughed, doubling over as the air burned the inside of my throat.
"Stop—stop—please—"
The suppressant thickened, numbing everything—
my senses, my chest, even the warmth blooming through my skin.
The room wanted me quiet.
Still.
Flat.
But I wasn't flat.
My instincts clawed upward again—
flaring
pressing
shaking through my ribs—
trying desperately to stay awake.
My fingers curled hard against the floor.
"No… not… now… I can't—"
A sudden spark flicked beneath my palm.
A live current.
The entire left wall crackled with a faint shimmer—
and the suppressant vents choked mid-cycle.
The room stuttered.
Paused.
Then:
"Error. Ventilation malfunction.
Switching to secondary flow."
The suppressant stopped.
My lungs expanded in a shaky, desperate inhale.
Heat flared.
Sharp.
Fast.
Unfiltered.
I gasped.
I shouldn't have felt that much so quickly.
Not with this kind of damping system.
Something was failing.
I pressed a hand flat to the floor, feeling for static—
and felt three rapid pulses.
Lucian again.
Hold. It's working.
I closed my eyes, exhaling a trembling breath.
"Please… be careful…"
CUT TO — THE MEDBAY: ROWAN COLLAPSES
Rowan was curled in Chandler's lap, limp and drenched in sweat.
His breaths were shallow—
barely moving his chest.
Chandler shook him gently.
"Rowan? Hey—Rowan—open your eyes—come on—"
Rowan's lips parted.
A fragile whisper:
"…she's… burning…"
Chandler stiffened.
He shook Rowan harder.
"Rowan—look at me. Don't drift. Stay with me. Open your eyes."
Rowan didn't.
His body shuddered once—
a small, pitiful tremor—
and then went still.
Not unconscious.
Not asleep.
Just still.
Chandler felt panic slam into him.
"Rowan—hey—HEY—"
He lifted Rowan's face with one hand.
Rowan's eyes barely opened—
glassy
far
unfocused.
Lucian ran into the room with two monitors in hand.
"Move—let me see him—"
Chandler stepped aside only enough to let Lucian attach the sensors to Rowan's neck and wrist.
Lucian's face drained of color.
"Oh god…"
Chandler's heart dropped.
"What?! What's wrong?!"
"His glands are shutting down," Lucian whispered.
"Chandler, he's going into scent collapse. If we don't stabilize him, he could—"
Rowan whimpered weakly.
"No… Ch-Chandler… don't… don't let them take her…"
He curled his fingers in Chandler's shirt.
Barely.
Chandler pulled him against his chest, voice rough.
"No one is taking her, Rowan. I swear it. Stay awake. Don't do this to me. Please."
Lucian slammed an emergency cartridge into the injector.
"It won't hold long, but it'll slow the collapse—"
Chandler looked up sharply.
"Lucian. What happens if it reaches stage collapse?"
Lucian hesitated.
Chandler's voice broke into a snarl.
"TELL ME."
Lucian swallowed.
"…he won't wake up."
Chandler's blood ran cold.
He pulled Rowan so tightly against him that his own arms shook.
"Over my dead body," Chandler whispered fiercely.
CUT TO — HORACE: SELF-BREAKOUT
Horace's bare feet slapped the medbay floor as he stumbled toward the door.
He wasn't supposed to be awake.
He wasn't supposed to be standing.
He wasn't supposed to be moving.
He didn't care.
He leaned heavily on the wall, pulling an IV line from his arm with a sharp wince.
His vision blurred—
and flickered.
Another hallucination.
Elleanore kneeling on the floor.
Her hand pressed to her chest.
Her breath short and shallow.
Her voice—hoarse:
Horace… I can't… breathe…
He slammed his hand against the wall for balance.
His breath hitched.
Pain stabbed under his ribs.
But the hallucination didn't fade.
It sharpened.
She was calling him.
Instinct—his own—answered.
Horace gritted his teeth.
"Almost… there…"
He pushed off the wall—
and dragged himself forward.
CUT TO — HALLWAY: CHANDLER LOSES CONTROL
Chandler bolted out of the room carrying Rowan in his arms—
arms around him
Rowan's head tucked into his shoulder
Rowan barely conscious.
A staff member blocked his path.
"Students are restricted from entering sub-facility levels—"
Chandler's voice came out like a growl:
"Move."
The staff member stepped forward.
"Monteverde, you cannot bring an unstable omega into—"
Chandler snapped.
Not yelling.
Not screaming.
He just stepped so close their faces nearly touched.
His voice dropped into a lethal whisper:
"If you touch him,
or if you slow me down while he's in collapse,
I will break your arm."
The staff member froze.
Chandler's eyes were dark.
Focused.
Unhinged in a way that made trained adults step back without realizing it.
Lucian grabbed Chandler's shoulder.
"THIS way. The grid control is on sub-B2."
Chandler didn't hesitate.
He followed, Rowan clutched tightly against him, as if letting go would shatter the world.
BACK IN ISOLATION — THE FIRST ROOM FAILURE
A loud metallic crack split through the chamber.
I flinched.
One of the ceiling panels jutted downward.
Sparks flashed.
A faint burning smell drifted from the vent.
The room's voice glitched:
"Ventilation error."
"Suppression cycle failing."
"Instability—instability—instability—"
My breath caught.
"Lucian… what did you DO?"
The floor buzzed.
Static—
stronger this time.
Urgent.
Almost there.
Keep breathing.
I tried.
But a wave of heat rolled through me, sharp enough to force a soft cry out of my throat.
My back hit the glass again.
I panted.
"Stop this—please—please stop—"
Heat crawled under my skin, pooling low in my abdomen, twisting into something heavy and instinctual.
My body wanted something.
Someone.
Warmth, scent, touch—
Horace…
I whimpered his name without meaning to.
The lights flickered violently.
Then—
the entire chamber plunged into darkness.
Black.
Total.
Complete.
Except—
a small blue pulse under the table.
Lucian's code:
I'm coming.
Just hold on.
I curled my fingers into the floor.
My breath shook.
"…I'm trying."
The Lockdown Line
Darkness in the chamber wasn't silent.
It breathed.
The absence of light made every mechanical sound louder—every hum, every click, every subtle shift under the floor.
The only source of illumination was the small, blue blinking light under the table.
Lucian.
My fingers curled into the tile as another tremor shook my body—
heat rising,
instinct surging,
suppression failing.
I whispered into the dark:
"Lucian—please—hurry—"
The blue light blinked rapidly.
Almost there.
Don't give in.
But my body wasn't listening.
Another wave of warmth rolled through my abdomen, heavier and deeper than before.
My breath caught in my throat.
My skin tingled with the heat, and I pressed my forehead into my forearm to muffle a soft, involuntary sound.
"Please," I whispered, choking on my own voice.
"Please don't let me go through this alone…"
The darkness didn't answer.
But somewhere above me—
something metal groaned.
A panel shifting.
A hinge straining.
A subtle sign the systems were failing faster than the room could compensate.
Then—
another pulse from the floor.
Lucian again.
Stage-two override engaged.
Brace yourself.
I swallowed hard.
"Okay… okay…"
But my body was not okay.
Not even close.
My instincts squeezed painfully tight around the hollow ache inside my chest, coiling inside me with urgent, desperate need.
Horace…
The thought wasn't mine.
Not completely.
It felt like instinct reaching for comfort—
for the bondmate who had always eased my breath, even before we understood what we were to each other.
Horace… I need…
My breath hitched.
I bit down on a whimper.
The chamber hummed sharply overhead.
A cold gust of suppressant shot through the vents.
The sudden cold made my body flinch violently.
"No—NO—stop—!"
The suppressant hit me hard enough to numb my face and arms.
The room's mechanical voice stuttered:
"Heat progression critical."
"Instinct override possible."
"Deploying secondary restraint system."
Secondary restraint?
My blood ran cold.
"Don't—DON'T—"
The lights crackled overhead.
Something metallic began lowering from the ceiling—
I shoved myself backward, scrambling until my spine hit the wall hard.
But—
the restraint didn't descend fully.
It paused mid-air.
Flickered.
Sparks popped from its side.
A breathless laugh escaped me.
Lucian had broken something important.
And he wasn't done.
CUT TO — ROWAN'S COLLAPSE DEEPENS
Rowan's body was limp in Chandler's arms.
Too limp.
Too quiet.
His breathing was shallow, rough, catching in his throat every time Chandler shifted him.
Chandler knelt on the floor, holding Rowan against his chest like a child—
one arm under Rowan's knees,
the other wrapped around his back.
Rowan whimpered weakly, forehead pressed into Chandler's collarbone.
"Cold… so cold…"
Chandler cupped the back of Rowan's head and pulled him closer until their foreheads touched.
"Stay with me," Chandler whispered, his voice shaking.
"I've got you. You're safe. I'm not letting anything happen to you."
Rowan's breath hitched.
His fingers curled weakly into Chandler's shirt.
"…can't… smell anything… why—"
Chandler's chest tightened so hard it hurt.
"I know. I know. You're in shock. Just hold onto me."
Rowan's voice cracked.
"I w-want her—Chandler—please—please—she's scared—she's hurting—"
Chandler pressed a kiss to Rowan's temple.
"I know she is. I know. And we're going to get her back. You hear me?"
Lucian sprinted toward them down the corridor, face pale, datapad clutched to his chest.
"Chandler, MOVE—now—Rowan's time is running out—"
Chandler stood immediately, picking Rowan up in his arms without hesitation, carrying him bridal-style.
Rowan's head dropped onto Chandler's shoulder.
Lucian barked:
"Sub-B2. Follow me."
CUT TO — THE SUB-LEVEL CORRIDOR: CHANDLER SNAPS
They reached the first secured checkpoint.
A reinforced steel door with two uniformed staff guarded the entrance.
Lucian held up a faculty ID.
"This is an emergency. We need access to the grid control panel."
One of the guards stepped forward.
"We received a lockdown order five minutes ago. No one enters or exits the Isolation Wing area until command gives permission—"
Chandler stepped forward.
Rowan whimpered softly in his arms.
Chandler's voice dropped into a lethal, deadly tone.
"Move."
The guard stiffened.
"I'm sorry, student—"
Chandler took one step closer.
The guard stepped back.
"Monteverde," the second guard said, more sternly, "you need to calm down—"
"Don't tell me to calm down," Chandler hissed.
"This omega is collapsing. If he dies, it's on you. Move. Aside."
The guard reached out—
a hand touching Chandler's shoulder.
A mistake.
Chandler slapped the hand away with a force that sent the guard stumbling into the wall.
Lucian grabbed Chandler's arm.
"Chandler—stop—remember Rowan—he needs you steady—"
Chandler gritted his teeth so hard the muscles in his jaw twitched.
Rowan whimpered again, weakly.
Chandler looked down—
saw the fear in Rowan's eyes—
and breathed hard through his nose.
He spoke in a low, cold voice:
"You have three seconds to open that door.
One.
Two—"
The guards exchanged a panicked look—
And opened the door.
Lucian grabbed Chandler's arm again.
"Good. Keep going. You don't get to punch anyone until Rowan is stable."
Chandler exhaled sharply, jaw tight, and followed.
CUT TO — HORACE: THE ELEVATOR
Horace staggered into the elevator.
His breath hitched as the doors shut.
He leaned against the mirrored wall, gripping the railing so tightly his knuckles turned white.
His reflection looked awful—
pale
sweaty
eyes unfocused—
But he pushed the button for Sub-B1.
The elevator buzzed.
Locked.
Horace's chest tightened.
"No…"
He pressed it again.
Locked.
He pressed harder.
And harder.
Still locked.
Horace sucked in a shaking breath.
Then—
he slammed his fist into the panel.
Sparks flew.
The elevator jerked.
His wrist throbbed with sharp pain—
but the panel flickered.
The panel flashed:
OVERRIDE DETECTED
— SUB-B1 ACCESS GRANTED —
Horace sagged against the wall in relief.
Then he straightened, breathing hard through clenched teeth.
"Hold on, Elle."
BACK IN ISOLATION — THE ROOM FAILS
The power snapped back on.
A flicker.
Then a harsh, bright light.
I covered my eyes.
The restraint above flickered again—
lowering slightly—
then jerking back up.
The room's voice stuttered:
"System instability increasing."
"Suppression cycle compromised."
I crawled backward, trying to get away from the descending machinery.
My back hit the wall.
A sharp sting ran through my spine—
another heat surge.
My breath caught.
"Not… not again…"
My instincts thrashed painfully.
I curled forward, pressing my arms against my stomach as heat pooled lower, pressure sharp and suffocating.
My scent—what little could escape—flared.
A soft whimper tore out of me.
The suppressant vents blasted cold air again.
I shook violently.
"No—no—DON'T—do this—"
The cold stung my skin, numbing my arms and legs—but the heat refused to die.
My body was fighting itself.
The system blared:
"Emergency restraint recommended."
A metallic click sounded above me.
The restraints twitched again.
Lower.
Lower—
Then—
BZZT—
A loud, electric crack snapped through the room.
The restraint glitched.
Jerked sideways.
Sparks flew from the ceiling.
I stared up, trembling.
The room went silent.
Then—
a single blue pulse blinked beneath the table.
Lucian's code.
Stand back.
I'm almost in.
I whispered, breath shaky:
"I'm trying…"
But the heat was rising again—
stronger—
faster—
My body leaned forward involuntarily.
A soft, helpless sound slipped from my throat.
"Horace…"
The lights flickered wildly.
And then—
the entire chamber buckled as Lucian hit the main override.