CHAPTER 210: The Return of the Immortal

CHAPTER 210: The Return of the Immortal

In one of the deepest chambers of the Enid Corp laboratory, surrounded by cold lights and silent control panels, a cryogenization capsule lay resting. Inside it, suspended in artificial slumber, was Selene.

A sharp beep broke the stillness.

The capsule's lights changed tone, and the system began releasing icy vapor. With a dry hydraulic sound, the front glass slowly opened. The accumulated cold escaped like thick mist.

Selene's body fell to the floor with a dull thud.

Her lungs reacted immediately. She inhaled violently, drawing in air as if she were drowning. She coughed, turning onto her side, her body trembling uncontrollably. Every muscle seemed rigid, heavy, as if it did not belong to her.

—Ah… —she gasped, trying to regain control of her breathing.

She blinked several times. Her vision was blurry. Sounds reached her distorted, distant. She placed one hand on the metal floor and tried to rise. Her legs did not respond immediately; she stood with difficulty, staggering, forced to lean on the open capsule so she would not fall again.

Every step was clumsy, painful. The world seemed too large, too real after so long in darkness.

That was when something caught her attention.

On the wall, next to a control panel, there was a digital calendar turned on. Selene narrowed her eyes and strained her sight until she could read it clearly.

October 5, 2012.

The air caught in her throat.

—No… —she murmured.

She stepped back, incredulous. Her thoughts began falling into place with brutal clarity. The last clear memory was the glacier, Enid, the chaos… the year 2000.

Her hands trembled.

—Twelve years… —she whispered, her voice broken.

The impact struck her with full force. Twelve years asleep. Twelve years lost in time, while the world had kept moving without her.

Selene leaned her back against the wall, letting the cold metal hold her up. Her eyes reflected a mixture of confusion, rage, and a growing sense of horror.

She had awakened.

But the world she knew no longer existed.

Outside the Enid Corp complex, the rain fell steadily, striking the asphalt and erasing any trace of life in the surroundings. Joe Kessler remained crouched beside one of the building's side structures, watching the perimeter with calculated attention. He knew he could not afford mistakes.

Enid Corp was not an ordinary company.

He slipped quickly toward an open ventilation grate and, after making sure he was not seen, entered the metal duct. The space was narrow, uncomfortable, and the cold metal chilled him to the bone. He advanced with slow, controlled movements, trying not to make noise.

Joe was fully aware of what he was risking.

He needed proof. Not simple documents, not ambiguous testimonies, but irrefutable evidence, the kind that cannot be buried or silenced. He knew that without something truly damning, any attempt to incriminate Enid Corp would end in disaster.

And he knew that better than anyone because of the Mercer case.

Mercer had been lucky. Very lucky. Being sent to prison had been, paradoxically, his salvation. Bloodvine had pulled the necessary strings to lock him away, not to punish him, but to protect him. Behind bars, under state custody, Enid Corp could not touch him.

Outside, he would have disappeared.

Joe advanced a few more meters through the duct, breathing carefully. The distant echo of machinery and muffled voices rose from the lower levels of the building. Every sound was a reminder that he was entering enemy territory.

If he failed, there would be no prison to protect him.

Only silence.

The elevator descended with a deep, constant hum. The space, designed for executives and technical personnel, was clearly insufficient for Fenix. His body, nearly two and a half meters tall, forced him to tilt his shoulders slightly, and his head brushed dangerously close to the metal ceiling.

Fenix clicked his tongue in annoyance.

—This elevator is ridiculously small —he growled—. One day I'm going to end up ripping the roof off without meaning to.

Enid, standing in front of the control panel, did not look away from the descending numbers.

—It was not designed with… special cases like yours in mind —she replied calmly—. Though I must admit the architects were overly optimistic.

Fenix gave a crooked smile.

—Optimistic or naive. If I keep growing, I'll have to take the stairs… or break the building.

Enid tilted her head slightly and, for an instant, observed him carefully. There was no mockery in her gaze, but something more subtle.

—Try not to —she said—. It cost me too much to build this place.

Fenix let out a brief laugh, deep, almost animal, but lowered his head a little so as not to hit the ceiling.

—For you, boss, I hold back.

The elevator kept descending. For a few seconds silence reigned, broken only by the internal mechanism.

Enid spoke again, with a surprisingly soft tone.

—I know it is not comfortable for you —she admitted—. But you would not be here if you were not necessary.

Fenix glanced at her sideways. His black eyes, with that unnatural white point in the center, fixed on her with a mixture of loyalty and something harder to define.

—As long as you need me, I will be here —he replied—. You already know that.

Enid nodded barely.

In her mind, the thought was inevitable.

What he is now… is not the Fenix from before. He is only a shadow, a broken version shaped by force. But it is the only way to keep him close, to keep him under control. Under my yoke.

The elevator stopped with a slight jolt.

—We have arrived —Enid announced, recovering her cold, calculating expression—. Let's get to work.

Fenix straightened as best he could within the reduced space and smiled.