Mercer never slept.
He didn't need to.
Sleep was a human weakness — a vulnerability he'd long trained out of himself. Instead, he spent the late hours walking through the underground Helix complex, the floors humming beneath each step, the facility pulsing with dark, clinical life.
Tonight, the halls vibrated with something new.
Excitement.
Possibility.
Alpha's awakening had begun.
He could feel it — a pull beneath his ribs, a familiar resonance he hadn't felt in years. As if a missing frequency was suddenly restored to the world.
The air tasted different.
Sharper.
Electric.
Mercer moved down the illuminated corridor until he reached the heart of the Helix labs — a chamber sealed behind reinforced glass and several biometric layers.
The door recognized the imprint of his iris.
It hissed open.
Inside lay rows of suspended liquid tanks glowing neon blue, each containing bodies — some half-formed, some fully grown, some armored in prototype suits.
Mercer walked between the tanks, hands behind his back, his breathing calm and measured.
His eyes lingered on each experiment.
Failures.
All of them.
But necessary ones.
Every mistake, every corpse, every splintered bone had paved the way to Alpha-01 — Jack.
A child stolen from him.
A weapon denied him.
But not forever.
The Monitor Room
Mercer entered a darkened circular chamber filled with screens arranged like a ring of eyes. Mantis was already there — perched casually atop the central console, mask pulled halfway up, exposing only her lips.
She swung her legs like a child waiting for a bedtime story.
"You look pleased," she said sweetly.
Mercer didn't answer.
He gestured a hand, and the holographic screens flickered alive.
They displayed Jack on Astra's observation deck — shaking, gasping, clinging to Maya Rios like she was the last thread holding him to sanity.
Mantis giggled softly.
"Oh, look at him. Falling apart already."
Mercer tilted his head, studying the footage in stillness.
Jack's eyes glowed faintly in the video — flickering silver beneath the surface.
A sign.
A promise.
An inevitability.
"His neural synchronization has begun," Mercer murmured. "Even faster than projected."
Mantis leaned closer to the screen, watching Jack tremble in Maya's arms.
"He's adorable when he breaks."
Mercer shot her a warning glance. "He is not yours."
Mantis raised her hands. "Of course not. He's your masterpiece."
Mercer's lips curved slightly — pride and obsession interwoven.
"Yes," he said. "He is."
Project Alpha — Files Unlocked
Mercer tapped the screen.
A file opened.
PROJECT ALPHA — PHASE 1: INFANT CONDITIONING
PROJECT ALPHA — PHASE 2: NEURO-ENHANCEMENT
PROJECT ALPHA — PHASE 3: COMBAT INSTINCT IMPRINTING
PROJECT ALPHA — PHASE 4: BIOLOGICAL LOCK-KEY SYNC
Phase 5 remained locked.
Even from Mantis.
She frowned. "You still haven't shown me the final phase."
"You aren't ready," Mercer said simply.
Mantis pouted dramatically. "That's hurtful."
Mercer ignored her.
He selected a video clip labeled:
ALPHA-01 — INFANCY TRIALS
The screen replayed old footage — a tiny baby wired into machines, eyes glowing faint silver even then. Doctors murmured in the background, taking measurements.
Mantis hummed.
"He was cute before you turned him into… this."
"He was never just a child," Mercer said flatly. "He was a design."
"A weapon."
"A legacy."
He zoomed in on the infant's eyes.
"The Alpha-series was meant to surpass human limitations. Faster. Stronger. Smarter. Adaptive beyond comprehension."
Mantis smirked. "And yet Astra stole him from you."
Mercer's jaw tightened.
"Yes. They took him before Phase 4 completed. Before the lock-key imprinting finished building his neural command structure."
Mantis tilted her head.
"But he's remembering now."
Mercer nodded.
"Exactly."
He zoomed in on Jack's trembling form on the screen.
"The conditioning wasn't erased. Only dormant. Trauma awakens it. Fear awakens it. Exposure to combat awakens it."
"And Maya awakens it," Mantis added with a sly smile.
Mercer paused.
Then his eyes narrowed.
"Yes."
The Maya Problem
Mantis hopped off the console and strutted closer.
"You were right, you know. She's getting too close."
"Maya Rios is an obstacle," Mercer said.
"A dangerous one," Mantis mused, plucking a knife from her thigh sheath and twirling it. "She's not afraid of me. I like that."
Mercer studied her expression.
There was something else beneath her amusement.
Jealousy.
"Do you want to kill her?" he asked.
Mantis grinned, eyes gleaming.
"Desperately."
"She's useful," Mercer said. "For now."
Mantis frowned. "Useful how?"
Mercer turned back to the screen.
"Jack's attachment to her accelerates the awakening process. She is his emotional catalyst."
Mantis made a face. "Ugh. So we're leaving her alive because she makes him cry?"
"In simple terms? Yes."
Mantis groaned dramatically. "You scientists ruin everything."
Mercer turned to her, expression cold.
"When he reaches Phase 5… Maya will no longer matter."
"Meaning?"
"She will become obsolete."
Mantis smiled again.
"Good. I want to be the one to end her."
"Patience."
"I'm not patient."
Mercer's voice sharpened.
"And that is why I am in control, Mantis — not you."
Mantis fell silent.
But the smile never left her face.
The Awakening Blueprint
Mercer tapped the final locked file.
PHASE 5 — FULL ACTIVATION PROTOCOL
The screen turned red.
WARNING: FINAL PHASE IRREVERSIBLE
Mantis leaned closer, trying to peek.
Mercer closed the file before she could.
"Why won't you show me?"
"Because you don't need to know."
"Don't trust me?" she teased.
Mercer didn't hesitate.
"No."
Her smile stretched wider.
"Good. Trust is boring."
Mercer returned to the screen showing Jack.
Phase 5 required three components:
Neural Pathway Threshold (Currently: 72%)
Trauma-Induced Memory Flash Access (Active)
Catalyst Trigger: Emotional Breaking Point (Pending)
Mercer watched Jack cry into Maya's shoulder.
"It won't be long," he said. "Just a few more pushes. A few more fractures."
Mantis leaned her chin on her hands.
"You want to break him."
"I want to rebuild him," Mercer corrected. "Into perfection."
"And then what?"
Mercer smiled.
"Then he will come home."
Mantis's eyes sparkled at the word home.
"Do you really think he'll leave Maya?" she asked, tone teasing but curious.
Mercer folded his hands behind his back.
"When Phase 5 activates, he won't remember her."
"But what if he does?" she pressed.
"Then she dies," Mercer said simply. "He won't cling to something dead."
Mantis's grin turned wicked.
"I like that plan."
Aloft Plans
Mercer turned away from the screens.
"Prepare the units."
"You're mobilizing the R-class?" Mantis asked eagerly.
"No," Mercer said. "Those were prototypes. We need something stronger."
He brought up a classified file.
GAMMA-LINE PROTOTYPES — APPROVED FOR FIELD TESTING
SUBJECTS: 3
STATUS: STABLE
DIRECT CONTROL: MERCER ONLY
Mantis's eyes widened.
"Oh… that's going to be fun."
Mercer nodded.
"Jack has passed his first test. Phase 2 begins now."
Mantis stepped closer, trailing a gloved finger along Mercer's arm.
"You're excited."
"Yes," Mercer said. "Very."
"He's still scared of you."
"He won't be."
Mantis smirked.
"You know… for a man who claims to feel nothing, you sound like a father who wants his child back."
Mercer didn't move.
His voice, when it came, was quiet.
Dangerously quiet.
"Alpha is not my child."
"No?"
"He is my creation."
Mantis tilted her head.
"And one day soon…"
Mercer faced the screens again—Jack trembling, Maya holding him, alive and human and fragile.
"…he will become what he was born to be."