Veil of Corruption

Invisible threads spread across the chamber, brushing along surfaces, mapping the emotional traces left behind like radar. She closed her eyes.

A spike—fear. Not Malo's, but Seth's, fleeting and controlled.

Then a bloom of violent elation, followed by something colder. Disappointment? No… restraint. The room still vibrated faintly with the echoes of something held back. The emotional residue thickened near the center—where Malo still sat.

She opened her eyes.

Seth pushed him hard. The threshold was nearly crossed.

Now came the second layer.

Emily knelt, hands resting on her knees. She focused, her gaze on Malo without truly looking.

A colorless wave rippled from her, reaching toward him—no sound, no sensation he could feel. Her eyes remained calm, but within her mind, patterns began to unfold.

A deep, compressed calm, like something breathing slowly beneath water.

Then: static. Thick emotional interference. Whatever Malo felt, it wasn't clean. It was filtered, processed, controlled—like rage diluted through ice.

She narrowed her eyes. There was no peace in him, but there wasn't chaos either. He was on a knife's edge, balanced through force of will alone.

He's suppressing everything. Too perfectly.

Time for the final step.

Emily exhaled through her nose. Quiet. Measured. She activated the last tether.

A subtle click inside her skull—like two tuning forks touching.

And then, the wall cracked.

It wasn't pain that hit her first. It was emptiness.

A desert of feeling—scorched flat, dry and lifeless. But beneath it, buried like bones in sand: longing, violence, and a terrible stillness. Not numbness, but decision.

He had chosen to feel less. To become less. Not because he wanted to—but because feeling had become a risk.

Her breath caught.

He wasn't unstable. He wasn't lost.

He was growing.

Emotionally weaponizing himself into something that couldn't be broken.

Emily severed the link. Her hands trembled faintly. She clenched them behind her back.

Malo blinked once, then looked at her—truly looked.

"What did you see?" he asked.

She didn't answer right away. Her voice was flat, professional when it came.

"You're stable. You're dangerous. And you're aware of both."

Malo said nothing.

Emily retrieved the device, stood, and turned toward the door.

As she reached it, she paused.

"You're not a monster, Malo," she said.

The door opened with a hiss.

And then she was gone.

......

She stumbled through the hallway, struggling to keep herself upright. The brief use of her ability was taking its toll on her. She made her way to room 8A, collapsed onto the bed, and soon drifted into a deep sleep.

The overhead lights in the maintenance bay flickered faintly, casting long shadows across rows of tool racks and disassembled drones. The air carried the distinct blend of machine oil, ozone, and burnt insulation—a scent that seemed etched into the very walls, a reminder of past breaches.

Seth Aurelius entered with measured, deliberate steps. His presence, even without the crisp uniform and high clearance badge, commanded attention—lean, composed, with a quiet authority in every glance.

A few mechanics paused to look. One gave a small nod. No one spoke.

He made his way past the workstations to the central operations desk, where a lone woman worked over a data terminal, her goggles pushed up into wild, sweat-slicked hair.

Gabi Colette, manager of the maintenance bay.

Without preamble, Seth placed a hand on the desk.

"Containment Unit 731 needs structural recalibration. Physical damage on the north interior wall."

Gabi raised an eyebrow, gesturing for ID proof without a word. Seth handed over his ID for verification.

"What's the protocol?" Seth asked, his tone steady and unchanging.

Gabi muttered under her breath. "The unit will be transported, and the maintenance team will get to work. As the handler, your help will be required during transportation. That's all. We'll notify you through your datapad."

Seth's eyes narrowed slightly. "Alright then."

Gabi leaned back, exhaling heavily. "We'll have to shut the unit down for at least six hours."

A brief silence hung between them.

Rubbing the back of her neck, Gabi said, "Alright, I'll send the drone team for inspection. If the damage is more severe, we'll bring in structural welders immediately."

"Good," Seth replied, turning to leave but pausing mid-step.

"I'll be ready if you decide to come early."

Gabi frowned. "Alright."

Seth said nothing, turning and walking away, his coat swaying behind him as the hum of machinery filled the bay again.

...................

The maintenance bay drone team arrived to inspect Unit-731, their faces twisting in horror.

"What could do that?!"

"A monster! There's a monster locked in there!"

Their clattering voices were swiftly silenced by their leader, and soon Malo was reassigned to a different containment unit.

Steel-toed boots echoed through the corridor—ten men in full black assault armor surrounding Seth and the boy at the center of the storm.

Malo's wrists were bound in dull-white restraints, not for control, but for protocol. His expression was unreadable. Behind them, doors sealed with a low hiss, and red status lights flickered to amber as they passed.

Seth walked beside him, hands behind his back.

"So, you got a new home. That's good."

Malo let out a light laugh. It was short, almost mocking, but not unkind."Yes, sir."Then quieter, hoarser:"When will I get to be free?"

Seth slowed for half a second, surprised by the rawness in the question. The guards said nothing, but their posture shifted—more rigid.

Seth tilted his head slightly, then offered a measured smile."Soon, Malo. You've already started mastering your ability a little. That's a big step."

Malo nodded slowly, his eyes still distant—but the faintest flicker of warmth reached them.

The corridor narrowed before opening into Site-3, a facility buried so deep beneath the surface it felt more like a forgotten tomb than a functional ward.

Unit 666 was ready.

The door split open with a groaning slide. Cold air spilled out, dry and sterile.

The new chamber was even more clinical than the last—stark white, seamless, and utterly static. The walls weren't matte nor glossy, but somewhere in between—a surface that reflected nothing, not even shadows. It was as if light obeyed reluctantly here.

The very air felt thinner, quieter. Sound died quicker, voices muffled just slightly—as though the room refused to echo.

The guards entered first, scanning every corner. One rapped the wall with his knuckles. The sound was swallowed instantly. Another waved a light across the surface, only to watch it dim slightly, as if drained.

"Clear," came the call.

Seth entered with Malo behind him. One by one, the guards backed out—boots heavy against the padded flooring, each man casting one last glance at the boy before the door sealed shut with a heavy, final click.

The maintenance team estimated it would take more than six hours to repair the damage, though the unit might not be fully repairable. The walls, built to withstand a nuclear blast, were unbreakable by any newly awakened individual. However, special grades were different, and Malo would be considered different even among them.

Both Seth and Malo entered, followed by the guards, who checked the room thoroughly before retreating one by one. Seth wasn't allowed to leave until given the signal. His task was to monitor Malo, which suited him just fine. It gave him the chance to teach Malo more about the Sundered.