The scream never came.
That was the worst part.
One moment Isla had been standing against the console, pale but breathing. The next, she was simply—gone. No flash, no sound, no warning. Just… absence, like she'd been erased from the room entirely.
"Isla!" Layla's voice cracked through the darkness. She spun, scanning every corner, every shadow, every inch of empty air where Isla should've been.
Nothing.
Cole slammed his fist into the nearest wall with a snarl. The impact rattled the emergency lights overhead. "They took her right under our damn noses!"
Rhea didn't move. Didn't panic. She stood perfectly still, arms folded, her face unreadable. But her eyes glinted sharp, studying every flicker of the dying lights. "No sound. No trace. That wasn't a physical extraction."
Layla's chest tightened. "Then what was it?"
Rhea's lips curled into the faintest, coldest smile. "Something worse."
The central monitor sputtered to life again, glowing pale in the darkness.
This time, there was no text.
Only Isla's face.
Her wide eyes filled the screen, darting frantically left and right. Her lips moved—shaping words, screaming something they couldn't hear. No audio came through. Just silent desperation, magnified a hundred times until it filled the room.
Layla felt her stomach twist. She wanted to reach through the screen, drag Isla back, shield her from whatever cage the enemy had trapped her in.
Cole's voice was a low, deadly growl. "Where is she?"
The screen flickered.
New words appeared over Isla's terrified face.
[SHE'S WHERE SHE BELONGS.]
[WITH US.]
Cole lunged forward, grabbing the monitor with both hands as if he could tear the enemy out of it. "You bastards! Show yourselves!"
The screen flickered again—this time showing a distorted silhouette, its features warped and shifting like static in human form.
A hollow voice slithered through the speakers.
"She was always the weakest link. So eager to trust. So easy to take."
Isla's silent image writhed behind the figure, like she was trapped inside its shadow.
Layla stepped forward, fury flashing in her eyes. "If you've touched her—"
The voice laughed. A chilling, hollow echo. "Touched? We don't need to touch. She gave herself to us the moment she doubted you."
Isla's face contorted in silent protest, but the enemy cut her image into black static.
The screen went dead.
Cole spun toward Layla, rage boiling in his eyes. "We're wasting time! We should be tearing down every wall in this place until we find her!"
Layla snapped back, her own temper rising. "And run right into their trap? That's exactly what they want!"
"Then what—sit here and watch while they drain the life out of her?!"
"Think, Cole!" Layla shouted, stepping into his path. "We charge blind, and we all end up like her."
For a heartbeat, they glared at each other, fury burning between them. Cole's chest heaved like he was seconds away from striking something—maybe even her.
Rhea's voice sliced coolly through the tension. "She's not dead yet. Which means they're baiting us. They want us desperate."
Her smirk flicked back into place, though her eyes stayed cold. "The real question is… desperate enough for what?"
Layla forced herself to inhale, steady, controlled. She couldn't afford to lose herself now. Not when Isla's life hung on the line.
"We need to split focus," she said. "Cole, you're on physical sweep. Tear apart this facility if you have to, but keep your comms open. Rhea, you track the digital trail—find any doorways they used. I'll…" She swallowed hard. "I'll keep them talking. They want me, remember? They called me out last. That makes me leverage."
Cole scowled. "You're not putting yourself in the crosshairs."
"I'm already there," Layla said flatly. "They've made it clear. If bait is what they want, then bait is what they'll get. But on my terms."
For once, even Rhea didn't argue. She just smirked faintly and whispered, "Dangerous. I like it."
The lights flickered again as if the facility itself disapproved of their plan.
Layla stood before the dead monitor, every nerve in her body tight as a drawn bowstring. "I know you're still listening," she said, voice low but steady. "You wanted me? You've got me. But you're not keeping her."
For a long moment, silence stretched.
Then the screen lit again—this time, showing an empty corridor deep within the facility. At the far end stood Isla, her figure barely visible, trembling in the dim light.
Her voice finally came through, faint and broken. "L-Layla? Please… help…"
Cole surged forward, ready to run straight into the screen if he had to. "She's there! Let's move!"
But Rhea's hand shot out, grabbing his arm with surprising strength. "Wait."
She narrowed her eyes at the flickering feed. "That's not a rescue. That's a leash."
The screen zoomed closer on Isla, her lips forming the words again. "Help me."
And beneath her whisper, almost too quiet to hear, came another sound.
A low, distorted laugh.
They ran anyway.
Cole stormed through the corridors like a force of nature, tearing through locked doors with raw strength. Layla followed close behind, her mind a storm of calculations. Rhea trailed them both, her smirk gone, replaced by cold focus.
The path led exactly where the feed had shown.
And there—at the end of the hallway—Isla stood.
She looked small. Fragile. Her eyes wide, tears streaking down her cheeks.
"Layla," she whispered. "You came."
Layla's chest ached at the sound of her voice. "Of course I did." She stepped forward, slowly, carefully. "We're taking you home."
Isla's lips trembled. "You shouldn't have."
The words sliced through the air like a blade.
Then her body convulsed.
Black static rippled over her skin, consuming her like fire until her scream distorted into mechanical echoes.
When she lifted her head again, her eyes were no longer hers.
They glowed with the enemy's hollow light.
Cole froze. "No…"
Rhea's voice was cold, almost fascinated. "They didn't take her."
Layla's heart shattered as the truth sank in.
"They turned her."
Isla smiled through the static crawling across her face. A smile that wasn't hers.
"Hello, Layla."
Then the lights exploded into black.