Epilogue
The doctor’s office smelled of antiseptic and metal.
A fetal pig suspended in fluid sat atop his desk, and more wet specimens in jars lined the bookshelves, tucked between thick scientific textbooks.
One of the largest jars contained the head of a cat, and unlike the other creatures, its eyes were open, staring at me with a dead, empty expression.
I couldn’t help but notice the striking similarity between the cat’s expression and Dr. Zolkos’s.
The office door swung open, and Dr. Zolkos entered, wearing a white lab coat. He didn’t seem to notice me; his attention was fixed on the clipboard in his hands. Without looking up, he said, “Hello, General Green. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Thetas didn’t have advanced hearing or smell, so it was strange how he could sense my presence without even glancing up. The man was creepy.
“Zolkos.” I nodded, greeting him sternly, deliberately omitting his title.
He sat down in the guest chair opposite the desk. I was already seated in his chair, rifling through his things as if they belonged to me. A pen clicked between my fingers. One of his notebooks lay open beside me, angled so he could see I’d been reading it. I made no effort to hide it.
Most men would have bristled. Most would’ve demanded their space back, or at least flinched at the blatant disrespect. But not Zolkos.
He didn’t even blink.
Had I ever seen him blink?
That was what disturbed me most. No matter what I did, whether I intruded on his space, challenged his authority, or treated him like an underling, he never reacted.
No outrage, no discomfort. Just that cold, unreadable stare, like the cat in the jar, as if something vital behind his eyes had been permanently switched off.
I leaned back in his chair, making myself comfortable, like I owned the place.
Still, nothing.
He had unnerved me for the past twenty seven years.
The man had always been fucking weird.
“I’m here to discuss the omega. I expect you have her test results back by now.”
“I do. They’re right here,” he said, holding up the clipboard. “I was just reviewing them.”
“And…” I prompted, impatience in my tone.
“And it confirms my initial findings. When I ran her DNA, I recognized the sequence. It's the same as Patient Zero. The visual similarity between them is striking. It's likely her appearance is a recognizable trait shaped by the Fire Shift Gene.”
He paused, then added, “Why she doesn’t present the abilities typically associated with the gene is unknown at this time.
I need to gather more information. Much of the original file has been lost or destroyed over the years.
Very few even know the project ever existed.
I no longer have samples from Patient Zero.
To continue, I’ll need to go to the old Border Front Base to retrieve what I can. ”
“What about the omega’s history?”
“She was born at Mercy General Hospital, right here in Falcon City. Everything appears above board, except for her designation. I don’t know how she could’ve been registered as a beta unless someone accessed our system or tampered with the hospital’s test.”
He tapped the clipboard thoughtfully. “Both of her parents are deceased. It’s quite likely her father played a role in the tampering.
He was a doctor and apparently delivered her himself.
I reviewed his file this morning. We don’t have much on the mother, but from what I’ve found, they were both considered valuable citizens of New Arca.
The mother was a middle school teacher.”
Zolkos stared at me. His eyes were black and beady. A chill ran down my spine. He said nothing. Just sat there. Staring.
The man had no problem with awkward silence. He fed off it, letting it stretch as long as he pleased.
Fucking creep.
“You’ll be transferred to the Border,” I said finally. “My son’s unit is returning to their post soon, and you’ll need to stay close to the omega. I’m reopening Project Flame, covertly. From now on, you report directly to me. I’m your supervisor.”
“Has Arca Command approved this?”
“They have… and they haven’t. The handling of Project Flame was a colossal disaster. It was an embarrassment to Arca. That fucking whistleblower set public confidence back forty years. They don’t want to revisit it, but the potential of what we could achieve is too great to ignore.”
I leaned forward, lowering my voice.
“I’ve been given tentative permission to move forward, as long as we keep it quiet. We tread carefully. No official channels. We’ll be completely off the books.”
“I’ll need to collect the samples from Patient Zero. I need access to the old lab.”
“That will take time. You know the old base has been decommissioned for over twenty years. Its entrances have been filled with concrete to prevent reentry. Arca wants everything in that base to stay buried. I’ll do what I can to get you access.”
“What about your son?”
“What about him?” I growled.
“He doesn’t seem to like me much. He’s aggressive and overly protective of his pack’s omega. Will he grant me access to her?”
“First off, no one fucking likes you, Zolkos. You’re creepy. Second, Cade will do whatever the fuck I tell him to. The omega might be a member of their pack now, but that can change. She’s Arca property. He’ll fall in line.”
He didn’t respond to the insult. The creep just stared at me with those beady eyes.
I picked up the specimen jar on his desk. The little pig floated and bobbed in the fluid. I gave it a hard shake, like a snow globe, and tiny pieces of preserved flesh swirled through the jar.
For the first time ever, Zolkos bristled.
“I’d prefer if you didn’t do that,” he said calmly.
But underneath that calm was an eerie edge to his voice.
Had Zolkos just threatened me?
I brushed it off. The shrimp wasn’t a fucking threat. I shook the jar again, slower this time, just to make sure he understood who was in charge, then set it back down on the desk.
“Pack your shit. You’re going to the Border Front. I would take all this creepy crap with you. You’ll be there for the foreseeable future.”
After a long silence, Zolkos finally spoke. “I’ve waited a long time for another like her.” The words were soft. Almost reverent.
“So have I. We won’t repeat what happened last time. This time Project Flame will be successful and you and I will be praised for our work. Don’t fuck things up, or we’ll both end up like the last project leaders.”
Once again, he didn’t respond. He just stared down at the file, tracing Rowan’s picture.
He didn’t need to say it aloud. This time, he wouldn’t let Rowan slip away like Patient Zero had. She was the key now, whether she knew it or not. One way or another, we would complete what had started all those years ago.