Damien's POV
She was standing outside my door.
Small. Blushing. Fidgeting like she'd stepped into the wrong hallway. Her scent hit me first—clean but curious, tinged with adrenaline. I hate adrenaline. It makes humans loud.
I narrowed my eyes. "Do you need something?"
She blinked, caught off guard. "Oh—no. Sorry." And vanished back into her room.
Weird.
I locked my door, slid my ID badge into my coat pocket, and headed down the corridor. No distractions. No detours. Just what I came here for.
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The car waited in the underground lot—dusty, nondescript, and faster than it looked. I drove straight to Sector 17, where no cameras worked and no scientists wandered after dark.
The alley was quiet, draped in shadow.
"You sure about this?" The voice came from behind me.
I didn't turn. I didn't need to. My brother's presence was enough to shift the temperature.
"I know what I'm doing," I said. "It's the perfect excuse. A research fellowship. Groundbreaking science. No one suspects a scientist."
He lit the cigarette. Inhaled. Exhaled.
"They better not," he muttered, smoke trailing toward the stars. "You get too close, Damien... we both burn."
He disappeared into the alley's mouth without another word.
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