CHAPTER 12: Plans and Decisions

CHAPTER 12: Plans and Decisions

Enid's office on the 42nd floor of Enid Corp was a sanctuary of steel and glass, suspended over Berlin like a hawk's nest. The rain lashed against the windows in furious gusts, distorting the city lights that flickered like dying stars. Enid wasn't seeing the landscape; her gray eyes, cold as the metal of a scalpel, were fixed on the horizon while her fingers drummed a war rhythm on the arm of her chair.

The door opened without ceremony. Marcus entered, his silhouette outlined against the hallway light. He wore his impeccable uniform, but his eyes—always so calculating—betrayed a spark of unease.

"I knew you'd come," Enid murmured without turning. "Lucian just informed me. Fénix has fallen."

Marcus didn't flinch, but the slight creak of his knuckles as he clenched his fists was answer enough.

"The Uber Lycan serum overwhelmed him," he said, his voice deep like the rumble of distant thunder. "We knew the risk existed."

For the first time in hours, Enid turned to face him. The storm light cast hard shadows on her face, accentuating her jawline, tense as a spring.

"I'm not interested in excuses, Marcus. I'm interested in a solution."

Marcus offered a faint smile, more a gesture of determination than humor.

"I'm not going to kill him. He's our best man, even now. Sedate him, extract him, and rehabilitate him… that's the only viable option."

The silence that followed was cut by a flash of lightning. Enid studied Marcus like a chess player evaluating a risky move.

"You have one hour," she concluded, raising a hand to point to the door. "If you don't recover him before he reaches Ruhleben station, I will authorize an airstrike. Berlin cannot pay the price for our sentimentality."

Marcus nodded once, turned on his heels, and left. The door closed with a click that sounded like a sentence.

The black Enid Corp van sped through the forest, its headlights illuminating the fog rising from the ground like specters. Inside, Marcus reviewed the plan with the twelve elite soldiers, their faces painted with shadows under the red emergency lights.

"Listen up," he growled, raising three gloved fingers. "One: You fire only tranquilizer darts. If anyone carries lethal ammunition, I'll bury you personally. Two: If Fénix ambushes you, fall back and regroup. You're not heroes, you're professionals. Three: Constant communication. If you separate, you die."

A younger soldier, with fresh scars on his cheek, swallowed hard.

"And if… we can't contain him?"

Marcus didn't blink.

"Then we call the assault helicopter and pray the napalm fire is enough."

The vehicle screeched to a halt in front of the sewer entrance. Lucian and Vanessa waited for them, soaked and pale.

"Marcus!" Vanessa ran toward him. "Fénix went in half an hour ago! We have to—!"

Marcus interrupted her with a gesture.

"You secure the perimeter. This is no longer a Fénix Team mission; it's an Extinction mission."

Lucian stepped in front of him, teeth clenched.

"He's our leader. We won't stay out."

Marcus looked at him like a wolf looks at an insolent pup.

"Do what you want. But if you die, there will be no epitaphs."

Ruhleben station was a corpse illuminated by fluorescent lights. The stopped trains looked like broken vertebrae of a colossal beast. The first sign of the horror was the silence. No screams, no sobs. Just the drip of blood falling from the platforms to the track.

"My God…" a soldier murmured upon seeing the bodies. Some hung from the train cars like broken puppets; others lay in dark puddles that reflected the light obscenely.

A crunch. Everyone turned.

Fénix emerged from the roof of a train car, his Lycan form now monstrously perfected: three meters of twisted muscle, fur bristling like barbed wire, and eyes burning with a perverse intelligence. The beast sniffed the air… and smiled.

"Controlled fire!" ordered Marcus.

The darts hissed. Fénix laughed, a guttural sound that froze the blood, and moved like lightning. A soldier screamed as his arm was torn clean off. Another fell with his chest caved in by a blow that echoed like a cannon shot.

"Tactical retreat! Now!" Marcus dragged two wounded men into a side tunnel.

Then, the miracle.

Lucian, positioned on a maintenance ladder, fired. The dart lodged in Fénix's neck. The beast roared, staggering. For a second, his golden eyes blinked, showing a flash of human consciousness.

"Fénix…" whispered Vanessa, approaching with trembling hands. "You came back."

The Lycan fell to his knees. His fur retracted, his claws turned into nails. When he looked up, it was him again: Fénix, sweaty, bleeding, but human. He spat out a clot and smiled sarcastically.

"Do you always greet friends… with darts in the neck?"

And then, blackness.

In the Enid Corp medical room, monitors beeped rhythmically beside Fénix's sedated body. Enid watched from behind the bulletproof glass, arms crossed.

"And the civilians?" she asked without looking at Marcus.

"Memory altered with neuro-gas. Officially, it was a terrorist attack with explosives."

"Good." Enid touched the glass, where her impassive face was reflected. "Do you think we can use him again?"

Marcus didn't answer immediately. In the silence, the distant roar of a helicopter sounded like an omen.