"CAN WE ADOPT THEM?" THE MAFIA BOSS'S DAUGHTER BEGGED — HE LOOKED OVER AND FROZE IN TERROR!

The third sub-level was eerily quiet compared to the warzone above. The sterile, polished white corridors smelled of industrial bleach and ozone. Fluorescent tubes flickered overhead, casting long, erratic shadows against reinforced observation windows.

Behind the glass of several rooms, we saw horrifying remnants of what this place truly was: sensory deprivation chambers, magnetic resonance scanners fitted with toddler-sized restraints, and digital chalkboards covered in complex mathematical formulations. My men cursed beneath their breath, their knuckles turning white around the grips of their rifles.

"Here," Theo said, pulling me toward a massive vault door constructed of five-inch solid titanium.

A digital countdown timer above the lintel was glowing bright crimson: 04:18... 04:17... 04:16.

"Vance activated the purge protocol!" Theo yelled, panic finally piercing his steady demeanor. "He’s venting the atmosphere in the containment unit!"

Theo rushed to the terminal beside the door, standing on his tiptoes to press his eye against the retinal scanner. The machine beeped: IDENTITY VERIFIED: SUBJECT E07. ACCESS RESTRICTED. DUAL AUTHORIZATION REQUIRED.

"Dual authorization!" Theo cried, banging his small fists against the steel plate. "It needs Vance's keycard or master override code!"

"Back up!" Dante shouted, raising a shaped breaching charge. "I'll blow the hinges!"

"No!" Theo screamed. "The door is lined with pressurized reactive incendiary charges! If you breach it with explosives, it triggers an explosion inside the vault!"

Suddenly, a slow, theatrical round of applause echoed down the corridor behind us.

We spun around, weapons raised. Standing at the end of the hallway, flanked by six towering mercenaries in full experimental exo-suit body armor, was Dr. Sterling Vance. In his left hand, he held a sleek digital detonator. In his right, an immaculate silver walking cane.

"Magnificent," Vance said, his voice dripping with condescending amusement. "Truly magnificent, E07. I designed you to be our greatest computational asset, but I never anticipated you could orchestrate a paramilitary strike against your creators. You have exceeded my wildest projections."

"You sadistic bastard," I growled, stepping forward with my shotgun leveled directly at his chest. "Let the children out."

Vance smiled thinly, adjusting his rimless glasses. "Mr. Moretti, correct? The quaint New York gangster with an antique concept of territorial integrity. Did you really believe you could defeat Prometheus Vanguard with shotguns and street muscle? We own three foreign defense ministries and half the technology patents on your smartphone."

"I don't give a damn who you own," I said, my finger tightening on the trigger. "You hurt children. In my city, that buys you an unmarked grave."

"Perhaps," Vance replied smoothly. "Or perhaps you die right here. E07, return to your station. Step away from this barbarian, and I will deactivate the purge cycle for your little playmates. Refuse, and you can watch them suffocate on the security monitor in three minutes."

Theo turned to look at the monitor mounted beside the vault. Through the camera feed, two small twin girls with matching pale eyes were curled together on a floor mat, coughing as white gas began hissing from the ceiling vents.

Theo’s breath caught in his throat. He looked at me, his eyes overflowing with despair. "Luca... I have to go with him. I can't let them die."