CHAPTER 8: The Breeding List
909 Words
The file lay open on the table between them.
It was thick—more than a list, less than a manifesto. Aria’s name glowed at the top, highlighted in crimson. Below it, line after line of other names appeared, many she didn’t recognize. Some she did.
Pop stars.
Influencers.
Rising politicians.
All of them marked with identifiers: Hybrid Type. Blood status. Fertility index. Behavioral flags.
“This is a blueprint,” she whispered. “A breeding program hidden in plain sight.”
Kellen leaned over her shoulder. “They’ve been building it for years. House Damaris handles the bio-tagging. The rest… must be compartmentalized across factions. Hidden beneath media and tech fronts.”
“And the public eats it up like candy,” she murmured.
Each name had a fate listed—some terminated, some marked as dormant, others as pending retrieval. The implication was clear: Nova wasn’t the only one.
She was part of an experiment.
And that experiment was far from over.
---
Hours later, Kellen hacked into an archived node buried inside ReVive Records’ internal server. It was under Nova’s old label, a restricted AI lab suite labeled E.V.E.LYN.
Inside it: biometric maps. Algorithms modeling Nova’s behavior in detail. Pulse spikes, stress reactions, ovulation cycles.
Aria’s stomach turned.
“They weren’t just shaping her career,” Kellen said grimly. “They were shaping her biology.”
Footage files showed old interviews—Nova stumbling mid-sentence, crying mid-concert, collapsing mid-tour. A text log revealed each breakdown was orchestrated—caused by induced neuro-chemical crashes.
“They staged her instability,” Aria said. “So no one would believe her if she ever woke up.”
She backed away from the screen.
“My rebirth wasn’t random. They made sure her body would be the perfect host. I wasn’t the miracle—I was the upgrade.”
---
The knock came late.
Dominic.
She opened the door, eyes guarded.
He walked in without a word. Held out a drive.
“It’s yours,” he said.
“What is it?”
“The original registry file. The real one.”
Aria took it but didn’t thank him.
“You knew,” she said.
He didn’t deny it.
“I knew the program existed. I thought it was a tracker. Something to monitor dangerous bloodlines. Not… this.”
She flung the drive across the room. It hit the wall with a sharp snap.
“You think that makes it better?” she snapped. “You think knowing halfway absolves you?”
Dominic’s jaw tightened. “I didn’t know they’d use it like this.”
“You let them tag people like livestock. What did you think would happen?”
“I thought I was keeping the packs safe.”
She laughed—a cold, bitter sound.
“You weren’t protecting anyone. You were helping them build cages.”
He stepped closer. “Then let me help tear them down.”
Her chest rose and fell. Fury and something more fragile behind it.
“Why now?”
“Because you matter,” he said. “And because if they take you, they win. Not just over you—but over everyone who’s ever fought to be free.”
She didn’t speak.
Instead, he placed a second file on the table.
Coordinates. Dated five years ago.
Maera’s last known location.
“She might still be alive,” he said. “But if she is… she’s hiding in the old tunnels.”
Aria stared at the numbers.
Then back at him.
“I’m going,” she said.
He nodded. “Then I’ll follow.”
---
The tunnels beneath New Echelon were older than the city itself—older than the tech towers, older than the courts and clubs and towers. They were carved by wolf claws and war, sealed after the Uprising and left to rot.
Kellen came with her. Neither spoke as they dropped beneath the storm drains, flashlights sweeping across stone etched with faded sigils and claw marks.
It smelled like rust and roots.
She saw remnants of her past here—old crests of House Vex burned into the walls. Pieces of training arenas. Fractured command posts.
They turned a corner.
And found a door. Clean. Reinforced. Not rotted.
Still powered.
Aria touched the panel.
The door hissed open.
Beyond it: a hidden lab.
And someone had kept it alive.
---
The lab was low-lit, silent, humming faintly with power. Data screens blinked. Medical chairs stood vacant.
A single figure stood at the far end.
It wasn’t Maera.
It was a hybrid—tall, stitched with tech, eyes black as pitch. A tag blinked faintly on its neck: VX-D9.
It moved like shadow.
Kellen raised his gun.
Too slow.
The hybrid vanished.
Aria ducked as a chair shattered beside her. Kellen fired. Sparks rained down.
The thing was fast. Too fast.
But it didn’t attack to kill.
It circled Aria, syncing to her heart rate. Breathing. It wasn’t hunting.
It was learning her.
Aria froze.
Then reached inward. Not with fear. With blood.
She pulsed a signal—a resonance only old Vex blood could emit. A call of memory. Of home.
The hybrid staggered. Twitched.
Then fell to its knees.
It whispered before it collapsed:
“Maera… Nexum…”
---
Aria knelt beside it.
“What’s Nexum?” she whispered.
No answer.
But something had shifted.
And for the first time… the shadows beneath the city were listening.
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- Writer
