The burning ruins of the lab cast a red glow across the hills. What was once a fortress of secrets and scars now smoldered like a dying beast. But for Ruoxi and Zeyan, it wasn't the end — it was a fracture point.
They had escaped with their lives, but not with peace.
Zeyan helped Ruoxi down the slope, his arm tight around her. The unconscious girl — Prototype Zero — was secured in the back of the black van. She was barely breathing, a body forged in cruelty, now caught between life and a memory that was never hers.
"Do you think it's over?" Ruoxi asked softly, watching the smoke.
"No," Zeyan said without hesitation. "This was just the breach."
Hours later, they reached a private safehouse in the outskirts. The facility had been torched, but that didn't mean they were safe. Zeyan knew too well — when the enemy hides in shadows, you don't relax after fire. You prepare for the next one.
Ruoxi stood at the window, staring out into the night.
"I keep seeing her," she whispered. "That girl in the tank… she looks like me."
"She is like you," Zeyan said. "They modeled her from your DNA. But you're not her, and she's not you."
"But we shared something," Ruoxi said, pressing her fingers to her temple. "Sometimes I feel like… her thoughts are in my head."
Zeyan stepped behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist. "Then let me remind you who you are."
She turned slightly, resting her head against his shoulder. "Promise me something?"
"Anything."
"If I ever lose myself again… you'll find me?"
He closed his eyes and tightened his grip. "Even if you forget me, I'll love you loud enough for the both of us."
In the quiet that followed, they kissed — slow and lingering. No more walls. Just trembling breaths and a promise carved into skin.
They didn't speak as they moved to the bedroom. The night wrapped around them like a fragile blanket. And as they lay together, nothing else existed — not the labs, not the lies, not the broken pieces of memory.
Only the heartbeat beneath her skin, and the man who never stopped reaching for it.
But fate didn't believe in peace.
At 4:42 a.m., the power cut.
Then — boom.
An explosion shattered the rear wall of the building. Dust and flame rushed down the hallways.
Zeyan jolted awake, grabbing his pistol from the drawer.
"Ruoxi, get up—"
But before she could fully react, the second blast rocked the floor beneath them.
"Go! Downstairs!" he shouted, grabbing her wrist.
They stumbled through the dark corridor, smoke thick in the air. Zeyan led her through the back exit. But as they reached the emergency stairwell, a support beam cracked loose overhead.
Zeyan saw it too late.
It collapsed.
Ruoxi shoved him out of the way — and took the brunt of the impact.
"RUOXI!"
He caught her before she hit the floor.
Blood streamed from a gash on her forehead. Her eyes were half-closed, lips parted in a whisper he couldn't hear.
"No—no, no—stay with me!"
He scooped her into his arms, heart pounding as the structure groaned behind him.
A black van screeched into the alley.
Two paramedics jumped out. Not Haoran's men — these wore the badge of the International Medical Coalition.
One of them flashed a clearance card. "She's the target. Priority evac ordered by global intelligence partner. You must be Mo Zeyan?"
He blinked, stunned. "I didn't request evac—"
But another blast echoed behind them, shaking the ground.
Zeyan hesitated only a second — then let them take her into the van.
He followed in a second vehicle.
But when he reached the destination they'd agreed on — a private clinic on the city's north side —
She wasn't there.
Zeyan stormed into the emergency ward. "Where is she?! The woman you just brought in — Ruoxi!"
The nurse looked puzzled. "I'm sorry, sir. We haven't received anyone under that name."
He froze.
Another nurse stepped forward. "If she was sent here, there may have been a reroute due to capacity—"
"Check every hospital in a 20-mile radius," Zeyan snapped, pulling out his phone.
But even as he made calls, a part of him already knew.
They'd taken her.
And this time, he didn't know who "they" were.
🌫️ Meanwhile – Switzerland (Undisclosed Location)
"She's stable," the doctor confirmed, adjusting the IV. "But she remains in a coma. Cranial swelling has subsided, but neurological activity is inconsistent."
A tall man stood at her bedside. Regal. Worn by years of distance. In his hand, he clutched a faded photograph — a baby wrapped in hospital cloth, marked with a surname once thought erased.
Liang.
The man leaned forward and whispered, "You're safe now. No one will hurt you again. I'm sorry I wasn't there sooner."
He touched her hand gently.
"Rest, Ruoxi. When you wake up… you'll be free."
Ruoxi lay silent, unmoving.
But somewhere, deep within her mind, a shadow stirred.