CHAPTER 202: Reorganization

CHAPTER 202: Reorganization

Several days had passed since Enid obtained absolute control of Spectral Corp. The transition was clean, surgical, like everything she did. The original name had been erased from documents, servers, and plaques at the entrance. Now, the entire building breathed a new identity: Enid Corp.

On the top floor, Enid was reorganizing her office. Still-unopened boxes coexisted with shelves already arranged with millimeter precision. In the center of her desk lay a black, thick folder labeled "Potential Assets." Inside were detailed profiles, photographs, genetic and psychological histories.

Enid flipped through the pages until she stopped at two names.

"Michael the hybrid and… Selene," she murmured, pressing her fingers onto the paper.

The door opened without need for announcement. Grunbak entered with a calm step, still carrying some documents under his arm. His presence no longer felt strange to her; he had become a constant over the past few days, advising her on procedures, contracts, and legal moves with unsettling efficiency.

"I was waiting for your opinion," Enid said without looking up. "I'm considering hiring them. The hybrid and the vampire."

Grunbak tilted his head, observing the profiles from the other side of the desk. A slight, almost clinical smile formed on his face.

"They are interesting," he replied, "but not for the reasons you imagine. They don't belong to any side. Lycans reject them, vampires consider them an aberration. That makes them… malleable."

Enid closed the folder gently.

"Do you think they would accept?"

"They have nowhere to go," Grunbak answered coldly. "If offered protection, resources, and a purpose, they will say yes. First, they can serve as test subjects. Later, as tools."

Enid watched him in silence, weighing every word.

"There is another reason," Grunbak continued. "We need them for the expedition."

He opened one of his documents and projected a satellite image onto the table: a vast white expanse, crossed by bluish cracks.

"The Eisriesenwelt ice cave in Austria," he said. "Our sensors detected thermal anomalies deep inside. Constant, ancient heat. It's not natural."

Enid frowned slightly.

"Something sleeping?"

"Exactly," Grunbak nodded. "There are signs of a dormant presence. If the ancient records are not lying, it could be Eve. Her eternal rest."

The silence grew dense.

"And if it is her…?" Enid asked.

Grunbak stared at her.

"Then we have two options," he replied. "Study her… or retrieve her. And for either one, Michael and Selene are key pieces. Resilient, adaptable, and expendable if something goes wrong."

Enid opened the folder again, looking once more at the printed faces. Her lips curved into a slow, calculating smile.

"Then bring them in," she said finally. "Let them think they've found a home."

Grunbak tilted his head slightly, satisfied.

"The game has only just begun."

Grunbak withdrew without a sound, closing the door softly behind him. The office fell silent, broken only by the soft rustle of paper and the distant murmur of the city filtering through the windows.

Enid took the folder in her hands and sat behind the wide dark wood desk. She began to flip through the pages calmly, looking at names, psychological profiles, histories, and photographs. Candidates, assets, potential tools. All perfectly classified.

She turned another page.

Then she stopped.

Two names stood out at the top of the page:

Fénix Roger
Marcus Blackwood

Her fingers went still. Enid's gaze focused on Fénix's photograph. A young man with a serious expression, but not a hard one. There was something in his eyes that didn't fit with the rest of the files: it wasn't ambition, nor cruelty, nor coldness. It was… something else.

She tilted her head slightly, analyzing him without realizing she was doing so with less distance than usual.

"Curious…" she murmured to herself.

She didn't know him. She knew nothing about him beyond cold data and incomplete reports. Yet the image conveyed a strange warmth, almost an innocence out of place in a world like hers. Enid let out a slight smile, barely perceptible.

He looks tender, she thought, surprised by her own conclusion. Too tender for this game.

She closed the folder gently, as if that gesture sealed something more than a business decision. Without knowing it, that photograph had just planted a seed that, sooner or later, would change the course of everything.

The café in Berlin was full of muffled murmurs, the clinking of cups, and the persistent aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Michael and Selene sat at a table in the back, both wearing low caps that hid part of their faces. Several days had passed since the incident, enough for physical wounds to heal, but not the mental ones. They drank in silence, alert to every sound, every movement around them.

The door opened, and a hooded figure entered the establishment. Their presence didn't seem extraordinary, but something in their way of walking made Selene tense her shoulders. The figure advanced without asking permission and sat at the same table as them. The noise of the chair scraping against the floor resonated like a gunshot in Michael's mind.

The figure slowly removed its hood.

It was Marius.

Michael stood up abruptly, knocking his chair backward. Selene reacted instantly, moving away from the table with her hand near the weapon hidden under her coat. Both fixed their gaze on the newcomer's face. There was something wrong: a line of sutures ran across his forehead from side to side, like a crude, recent scar.

"It can't be…" Michael murmured, his voice breaking. "I felt your pulse. You were dead."

The supposed Marius sketched a crooked, almost childish smile and opened his mouth to speak.