Aiko could barely keep her eyes open. It wasn’t tiredness, not really, but something stranger—like being forced into a dream where the nightmares never ended. Each injection brought new horrors, old ones too, memories she had buried clawing their way back into her mind.

  Malcolm came and went with his syringes of strange-colored fluids. Each time, the silver-suited man followed, sticking Liam with something different.

  “Please… stop,” Aiko whispered, her voice small but steady.

  Malcolm only smiled, calm and cruel. “I’m trying to release your potential. We’re out of time, and this is the only way.”

  He said it like a riddle, like she should already know the answer. Aiko closed her eyes, but the cold was everywhere. Her cheek still burned where he had touched her. She remembered the first time she saw him—back at the barn, his smile easy and safe. Now, looking at him felt like staring at skin peeled back too far, leaving nothing but a raw wound.

  “I don’t know what you think we are,” she said, amazed that her voice didn’t shake.

  Malcolm tilted his head, almost kindly. “You know why I’ve always liked you, Aiko? You pretend not to know things. Even when you do. That’s a gift.”

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  The silver man returned, pushing a gurney. On it sat jars of clear liquid, a tablet that looked like it came from the army, and needles so long they made Aiko’s stomach twist. He parked it beside Liam.

  Liam’s breathing quickened. He fought against the straps, useless.

  “No use fighting it, son,” Malcolm said, crouching to meet his eyes. “You’re wired to run. But you can’t outrun yourself.”

  He ruffled Liam’s hair like he was a pet, then nodded. The silver man readied a syringe, the needle gleaming.

  “Don’t,” Liam said, the word breaking from him before he could stop it. Blue veins crawled up his arms, his skin pale and damp with sweat.

  “Just insurance,” Malcolm explained. “A booster. Keeps you from slipping the leash.”

  The silver man swabbed Liam’s arm, the sharp scent of alcohol filling the air, then slid the needle deep. Liam clenched his jaw, silent, staring at the wall as though it could carry him out of the room.

  Then it was Aiko’s turn—again.

  Malcolm cupped her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his. His fingers were too hot, too dry. Every part of her recoiled.

  “You always knew you weren’t like the rest of them,” he said, his voice almost gentle. “Turns out you were right.”

  He didn’t explain. The silver man prepared another syringe, this one filled with a thick, milky fluid. She caught a glimpse of someone else in the background. There was something familiar about the person, but she couldn’t tell who it was.

  “See you on the other side, Aiko,” Malcolm murmured.

  Her eyelids were too heavy to fight anymore. She wanted sleep more than anything.

  “Fight, Aiko, Fight,” a familiar voice said.

  Kyle?

  Just before darkness swallowed her, a reddish portal opened behind Malcolm. Then she was hurled toward the portal with frightening speed. It was like someone tossed her into the portal and the blackness beyond.