BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM.
The bunker's roof didn't just crack—it dissolved. Missiles, precision-targeted, turned decades-old reinforced concrete into falling stars that rained destruction into the heart of their sanctuary.
The Architects dropped through the smoke like angels of death, their dark forms silhouetted against the fire above. Prime 10 led, her dark grey mask gleaming in the hellish light. Superior-1 followed, then 2, 3, 4, and 5—six hunters descending into the lion's den.
They landed in the main chamber, weapons ready, senses extended, expecting resistance.
They found nothing.
No Leo. No Maya. No Derek. No Jordan. No Eva. No Wolfen.
Just Tube-Eva.
She lay on the floor, her glass prison shattered around her in a thousand glittering pieces. Her body—what remained of it—was exposed to air for the first time in decades. The organs floated no more. They lay tangled in wires and tubes, glistening wetly in the firelight. Her face, still beautiful despite everything, was turned toward them. Her eyes were open.
"Surprise."
Her voice was a whisper, barely audible over the crackling flames. But it carried.
Superior-1 stepped forward, his grey mask tilting. "Why are you here? You were supposed to be dead. You were replaced."
Tube-Eva's lips curved into a smile. Blood—or something like it—trickled from the corner of her mouth.
"I was always meant to be replaced," she said. "That was the point."
Prime 10 moved with the speed of striking viper. In an instant, she was beside Tube-Eva, her hand wrapped around the dying woman's throat. Not squeezing—just holding. Claiming.
"What have you accomplished by this?" Prime 10's voice was quiet, deadly. "Your friends are gone. Your shelter is destroyed. You're dying alone on a cold floor. What was the point?"
Tube-Eva looked up at her—at the dark grey mask, at the woman who had come to kill her—and smiled wider.
"I accomplished freedom."
Prime 10's grip tightened. "Any last words?"
The smile didn't waver.
"Do you really think I'll go down that easily?"
Her body changed.
The organs—those floating, suspended pieces of her—began to expand. To grow. The lungs ballooned, the liver swelled, the intestines twisted and lengthened like snakes waking from hibernation. The wires and tubes that had sustained her became weapons, lashing out, wrapping around the nearest soldiers.
Her head—that beautiful, tragic face—distorted. The jaw unhinged. The skull elongated. The eyes, still so like Eva's, grew wide and hungry.
She became a bubble of flesh and fury, a monster born from decades of confinement and pain. Her new form expanded, filling the room, crushing the white-masked soldiers who hadn't been fast enough to escape. They screamed—briefly—before she consumed them.
Superior-2 stumbled back, raising her weapon. Superior-3 and 4 did the same. But Prime 10 stood her ground, watching the transformation with cold, clinical interest.
The bubble-monster lunged.
Prime 10 raised her hand.
A pulse—invisible, silent—shot from her palm. It hit Tube-Eva's transformed body and unmade it. The flesh dissolved. The bones crumbled. The organs that had become weapons turned to ash.
When it was over, only the head remained.
It lay on the bloody floor, separated from everything it had been, still somehow alive. The eyes—those mercury-sheen eyes—stared at the ceiling. At nothing. At everything.
A single tear traced down the pale cheek, cutting through the grime and blood.
Then the light faded, and Tube-Eva was gone.
For a moment, there was silence. The fire crackled. The surviving Architects caught their breath.
And then they felt it.
A presence. Heavy. Hot. Furious.
The roof above them exploded—not from missiles this time, but from within. A figure crashed through, landing in the center of the room with enough force to crater the floor.
Wolfen.
He straightened, dust and debris falling from his shoulders. His golden eyes swept the room, taking in the scene—the destroyed bunker, the dead soldiers, the head on the floor with its single tear.
Then he smiled.
"Guess what, nerds?"
His voice was loud, almost laughing. He raised his hand, middle and forefinger pressed together, the rest curled into a fist. A small fireball ignited between his fingertips—tiny, insignificant, barely a spark.
Prime 10 tensed. Superior-1 took a step back. The others raised their weapons.
"I can use Pulse now."
The fireball expanded.
It didn't just grow—it exploded outward, a sphere of white-hot flame that swallowed everything. The bunker walls dissolved. The fire above was consumed by something hotter. The world became light and heat and the roar of annihilation.
And then it stopped.
They stood in the center of a perfect sphere of fire—a hollow bubble, its walls roaring around them but not touching them. They were inside the flame, untouched, unburned, trapped in a cage of Wolfen's making.
"Dominance Sphere," Wolfen announced, spreading his arms wide. "Cool, right?"
Superior-1 looked around at the fire, at the impossible construction, at the man who had just casually demonstrated power they'd never seen before. His voice, when it came, held something almost like admiration.
"You're full of surprises, aren't you, Wolfen?"
Wolfen's smile widened. It was not a kind smile.
"It's only just beginning," he said.
The fire roared around them, and the hunt entered its next phase.