The room hummed with the familiar sound of Tube-Eva's machinery—a steady, rhythmic pulse that had become almost comforting over the days they'd spent in this bunker. But tonight, no one found comfort in it.
They were all gathered around the glass tube, their faces illuminated by the faint glow of the fluid that kept Tube-Eva alive. She looked tired—more tired than usual, the shadows under her eyes deeper, her skin paler. But she was listening, her gaze fixed on the small device in the center of the room.
328's voice crackled through the speaker, tinny but clear.
"That's everything. Prime 10 is coming. And Jenny Damber is already here—I saw her. She... she ate three people in the dining hall. Just sat down and ate them like they were nothing."
The room absorbed this in silence. Leo's jaw tightened. Derek's face went pale. Maya's eyes flickered with something dark, the Omega stirring in recognition of a kindred monster.
But it was Wolfen's reaction that drew everyone's attention.
He stood apart, as always, his arms crossed, his golden eyes fixed on nothing. But when 328 mentioned Jenny's name, something shifted in his posture—a tightening, a tension that hadn't been there before. His jaw clenched. His hands, hidden in the folds of his sleeves, curled into fists.
Eva noticed. She noticed everything now.
"Wolfen," she said quietly. "Who is Jenny?"
"Nobody." The word was sharp, final. A door slamming shut.
Derek blinked. "Nobody? She ate three people. That's not nobody."
"I said she's nobody." Wolfen's voice was ice. "Drop it."
The room went still. They'd seen Wolfen angry before—saw the cold fury he directed at enemies, the dark satisfaction he took in breaking those who deserved it. But this was different. This was something raw, something personal, something he didn't want them to see.
Leo held up his hands, a gesture of peace. "Hey. Okay. We won't ask. Just... calm down, man."
Wolfen looked at him—really looked, for a long, tense moment. Then, slowly, the tension in his shoulders eased. He nodded once, a small acknowledgment.
"Sorry," he muttered. "Just... not something I want to talk about."
"Then we won't talk about it," Maya said firmly. "We've got bigger problems anyway. Prime 10. Jenny Damber. Two more monsters heading our way."
Tube-Eva's voice came through the speakers, weak but clear. "I don't understand. I'm Prime 9—the lowest rank. How can there be a Prime 10? That would mean..." She trailed off, confusion flickering across her floating face.
328's voice crackled back. "A new Prime was introduced about a month ago. I don't know the details—they keep that kind of thing quiet. But the designation is confirmed. Prime 10 exists."
"Don't call me 'ma'am,'" Tube-Eva said, a ghost of her old humor surfacing. "Just... call me anything. Not ma'am."
A pause, then 328's voice, almost amused: "Okay. Not ma'am."
Derek leaned back in his chair, a tired smile crossing his face. "This is going to be impossible."
The words hung in the air, heavy with resignation. Leo nodded grimly. Maya looked away. Even Eva felt the weight of them—the sheer, crushing impossibility of facing Prime 10, Jenny Damber, and whatever else the Architects threw at them.
But then Wolfen spoke.
"Impossible."
The word was quiet, but it cut through the room like a blade.
Derek looked at him, surprised. "What?"
"Impossible." Wolfen repeated, his voice gaining strength. "A word found in the dictionary of a fool."
He turned to face them fully, his golden eyes burning with something that wasn't fire—something older, something fierce.
"The weak use it to hide from pain and struggle. They need that word. It comforts them. Makes them feel safe, makes them feel justified in their failure." He took a step forward, his presence filling the room. "But in truth? It destroys them."
Leo sat up straighter. Maya's eyes widened. Even Eva felt something shift in her chest.
"The moment you believe in impossible, you're already dead," Wolfen continued, his voice low and intense. "Not physically—not yet. But inside. In the place where courage lives, where hope is born, where the will to fight comes from. The moment you tell yourself something can't be done, you've already surrendered."
He looked at each of them in turn—at Derek's tired face, at Leo's sudden focus, at Maya's dawning understanding, at Eva's rapt attention.
"Impossible is nothing except hesitation disguised as truth. It's the shield of the weak—the excuse they use to justify why they didn't even try." He shook his head slowly. "Every limit you bow to is self-made. Every wall you see in front of you was built by someone who told you it couldn't be crossed. And every time you accept that, you make those walls stronger."
He stopped before Derek, looking down at him with an expression that was almost gentle.
"You think Prime 10 is impossible? You think Jenny Damber is impossible? You think surviving this—all of this, after everything you've been through—is impossible?" He smiled, a small, fierce thing. "You've already done the impossible. Dozens of times. You escaped the Architects. You survived the Chrysalis Directive. You crossed an ocean on the back of a creature that could have crushed you without noticing. You fought Superiors and lived."
He straightened, looking at all of them.
"All you have to do to break the cycle is push yourself. And break those limits."
The room was silent. Even the hum of Tube-Eva's machines seemed quieter, as if listening.
Derek stared at Wolfen for a long moment. Then, slowly, a real smile spread across his face—not tired, not resigned, but something else. Something almost like hope.
"When did you get so philosophical?" he asked.
Wolfen's expression flickered—a hint of his usual sardonic humor breaking through. "I've had a lot of time to think. And a lot of idiots telling me things were impossible."
Leo laughed—a surprised, genuine sound. "So what's the plan? How do we beat a Prime and a psychopath?"
Wolfen's smile widened. "We do what we always do. We adapt. We fight. We refuse to lose." He looked at Eva. "And we remember that impossible is just a word. And words can be broken."
Eva met his gaze. For the first time in days, she felt something solid beneath her feet. Something real.
"Then let's break it," she said.
Tube-Eva's voice came through the speakers, soft but steady: "I'll help however I can. I may be stuck in this tube, but I can still think. Still plan. Still... hope."
Maya nodded slowly. "We're not alone in this. We never were."
Derek stood up, some of his old energy returning. "Okay. So we've got a Prime coming. We've got a cannibal psychopath who apparently knows Wolfen. We've got ten Alphas guarding Absolute-Five at the South Pole. And we've got"—he gestured around the room—"this. Us. A bunch of broken hybrids who refuse to stay broken."
"Sounds about right," Leo said, grinning.
Jordan, who had been silent throughout, spoke up for the first time. "The odds are approximately 17.3 to 1 against us."
Everyone looked at him.
He almost smiled. "I've beaten worse."
The tension broke. Laughter—real laughter, surprised and warm—filled the room. Even Tube-Eva's floating face creased into a smile.
Wolfen watched them, his expression unreadable. But something in his golden eyes had softened. Something that might have been pride. Or hope.
"Get some rest," he said quietly. "Tomorrow, we start planning. And then we show them what impossible really looks like."
One by one, they filed out of the room. Eva lingered at the door, looking back at Wolfen.
"You really think we can do this?" she asked.
He met her gaze steadily. "I know we can. Because we have something they don't."
"What's that?"
He smiled—a real smile, warm and fierce and utterly Wolfen.
"Each other."
Eva nodded slowly. Then she turned and walked out, leaving Wolfen alone with the hum of machines and the quiet presence of Tube-Eva.
"She's special," Tube-Eva said softly. "The other me. She's going to do great things."
Wolfen looked at the glass tube, at the face that was and wasn't Eva's. "They all are."
He walked to the door, paused, and looked back.
"Get some rest. You're part of this too."
Then he was gone, leaving Tube-Eva alone with her thoughts and the steady pulse of the machines that kept her alive.
For the first time in decades, she felt something almost like peace.
The impossible was coming.
And they were going to break it.