Timestamp: December 11th, 20XX
Time: 01:34 A.M.
Location: Budapest, Hungary — Underground data vault, Terminal 6C
The keyboard beneath his fingers was clotted with dust. No guard presence. No signal bleed.
This place was already dead.
Derik activated the terminal using a stolen key node from SEVERANCE_13.
The screen flickered to life.
DECRYPTING FILE: CANDIDATE_017-D
UNLOCKING ATTACHMENT: SUBJECT-ZER0.LOG
AUTHORIZATION REQUIRED: VEX BLOODLINE
The cursor blinked. Once. Twice.
Derik pressed his left thumb to the reader.
Accepted.
⸻
The files cracked open like veins split under pressure. Redacted lines, corrupted video. Everything splintered.
But one folder wasn't locked.
It was labeled:
JOANNA_V17
Derik leaned forward. His throat dried.
He hadn't said her name in eleven years.
⸻
Video File — Dated: May 14, 20XX
Grainy footage. Shot in infrared. Location tag: VEX-7 Sub-Level Gamma
She was in a medical gown. Hands shackled. Monitored by two black-suit handlers.
And she was speaking. Not screaming. Not begging.
Speaking.
"You'll watch this, Derik. Because I knew you'd come looking eventually."
"They didn't kill me. They kept me. Because I was your test."
"You weren't the first child they groomed. You were the first to survive."
"Your father broke bones. I kept files. But we both made you. That's what hurts."
She looked into the camera and whispered:
"If you're seeing this… they've decided you're ready for Phase IV."
⸻
Derik didn't move.
He replayed it five times.
Each time, the words hit harder—"We both made you."
⸻
Second File — INITIATE: SUB-ZR
This one wasn't a video. It was a manifest:
CODE CLASS: SUBJECT-ZER0
STATUS: FAILED/UNCONTAINED
NAME: N/A
DNA RELATION: MATCHED 87.94%
NOTES: "Locked from public exposure. Retained for Lucid Frame failsafe."
LOCATION: VEX-7, Sub-Sub-Level: "Ash Room"
Mental development: unknown
Language exposure: null
Light exposure: null
Motor skill retention: extremely high
DESIGNATION: "The Brother"
⸻
Derik blinked once.
Not a candidate.
Not a replacement.
But a backup, if he failed.
They locked a child—his brother—in a room with no sound, no warmth, no name.
Raised as a weapon without ideology.
Ash, as he would later call him. Because that's what you name the thing left after fire.
And somewhere beneath VEX-7, that weapon was still breathing.
Derik shut the terminal off.
This wasn't about justice anymore.
This wasn't even about his mother.
They built monsters to cleanse the world.
But they forgot the simplest rule of fire:
You can't burn everything down…
unless you're willing to walk through the ash.