Someone knocked on the door.
Maya opened it. Outside, a car waited—black, nondescript, the kind that blended into any road in any country. The man standing beside it was old, with a black beard streaked with grey, his face weathered by years she couldn't guess. His accent was thick, Russian, the words rolling off his tongue like stones in a river.
"Here to take you to the facility. To Mam Lily's facility."
Maya looked back into the room. Wolfen was on his feet, his movement casual but his eyes sharp. Leo stood beside him, arms crossed. Jordan and Derek rose from their chairs, ready. Zoey leaned forward, her bandaged stomach making the movement slow, careful. Lena was beside Eva, her hand on Eva's arm, trying to reach her—but Eva wasn't there. Her eyes were fixed on nothing, her breath shallow, her thoughts spiraling somewhere none of them could follow.
Wolfen reached the door.
"How do we trust you?"
The man pointed to the car. In the back seat, Dave was visible through the window, his grey mask still on, waving at them like he was picking them up for a casual drive.
Wolfen's face relaxed. "Okay then."
---
The ride took a full day.
They drove through forests and mountains, past ruins that had once been towns, along roads that had been repaired by hands that didn't ask for thanks. The car was quiet. Zoey leaned against Lena, her eyes half-closed, her breathing shallow. Eva stared out the window, watching the world blur past, her thoughts too loud for conversation.
When they finally stopped, the cave swallowed them.
Torches lined the walls, casting flickering shadows. Scientists in white coats moved past with tablets and files, their eyes flicking to the visitors and away. Guards in practical armor nodded as they passed, weapons lowered but ready.
They passed a door where children were playing.
Lena stopped. Through the window, she could see them—toddlers building blocks, older kids reading, a group of teenagers huddled around a game none of them recognized. Caretakers moved among them, mostly old, their faces creased with the particular exhaustion of people who had spent years protecting things that mattered.
Zoey leaned against the glass. "There are kids here."
"Their parents are scientists," one of the guards said quietly. "Or dead. Lily doesn't ask questions. She just gives them a place."
They moved on.
---
The door opened.
Lily sat in a chair, her legs crossed, a cigarette burning between her fingers. She looked bored—the particular boredom of someone who had been waiting too long, thinking too much, existing in the space between one crisis and the next. Bill stood behind her, hunched over a microscope, his glasses sliding down his nose.
Bill saw them first. He straightened, blinking, then broke into a nervous smile.
"Oh! You're here. I'm Bill. I'm—I work under Henry, I've been working on the virus, trying to find something that—well, I haven't found anything yet, but I'm—I'm trying. I've been studying the blood samples, the progression rate, the—"
Lily sat in her chair, smoking.
"Is she smoking?" Eva pointed at her sister, her voice caught somewhere between outrage and exhaustion.
Bill looked at Lily, then back at Eva. "She is. And she smokes a lot." He sounded very tired.
Henry emerged from a side room, wiping his hands on a cloth. He nodded at them, introduced himself, explained his work, his voice professional, calm—the voice of someone who had accepted things he couldn't change.
Lily finally stood.
She reached for another cigarette, her fingers already pulling one from the pack—
Eva snatched it from her mouth.
Lily blinked. Her hand stopped mid-reach. She didn't argue. Didn't protest. Just stood there, empty-handed, watching her sister with something that might have been surprise.
"Yo, nerd."
Wolfen lifted his shirt, just enough to show the wound. His left eye opened—the one he'd been keeping closed, the one that was still black, the veins faint but visible beneath his skin.
Lily went pale. The color drained from her face like water from a cracked cup.
"How?"
"Jenny." Wolfen's voice was casual, like he was discussing the weather. "She's still around."
Lily stared at him. For a moment, something flickered in her eyes—rage, maybe, or grief, or the particular fury of someone who had spent eleven years hunting a monster only to see it hurt someone she cared about. Her hands tightened at her sides. Her jaw clenched.
She sat down. Lit another cigarette.
Bill leaned close to Eva, his voice low. "She has anxiety. Depression. Headaches. A lot of things, really—mental things, from years of—" He waved a hand vaguely. "Just... don't tell her anything that might make it worse. Please."
Eva watched her sister smoke.
"Do you have the coordinates?" Lily's head was down, her voice muffled by her hands.
Eva moved to her, hand on her shoulder. "Yeah. Don't worry. Your sister's going to take care of it. You can rest now. Do... girl stuff. Or something."
"What are the coordinates?"
"We have them. We'll take care of it. Just stay here, okay?"
"What are the coordinates?"
Eva's jaw tightened. "Lily—"
Wolfen said them from behind her.
Eva turned, her eyes wide, her face caught between anger and something that looked almost like hurt. But Wolfen's face was calm, his voice steady, his black eye fixed on Lily like he was passing her a weapon she was going to need.
Lily finished her cigarette. Stubbed it out. Stood.
She walked to her room without looking back.
---
The door closed behind her.
Lily stood in the middle of her room, surrounded by the things she'd collected over the years. Books. Papers. A photograph of Eva on the shelf. Letters in the drawer that she'd never send.
She didn't cry. She'd lost that ability years ago.
She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the photograph, and waited.
The door opened.
Eva stepped inside. She closed it behind her, gently, like she was afraid it might break. She stood there for a moment, looking at her sister, at the scar on her face, at the shadows under her eyes, at the weight she was carrying that no one should have to carry alone.
"You're not staying," Lily said. It wasn't a question.
Eva crossed the room. She sat beside Lily on the bed, close enough that their shoulders almost touched.
"No. I'm not."
Lily nodded slowly. "You're going to find it. Destroy it."
"I'm going to find it. And I'm going to make sure that virus never hurts anyone again." Eva paused. "And I'm going to come back. So you'd better be here when I do."
Lily's lips twitched. "Bossy."
"Learned from the best."
They sat in silence for a moment, two sisters who had spent more time apart than together, who had hurt each other in ways that would never fully heal, who still found a way to be here, now, in this room.
"When did you get so old?" Lily asked quietly.
"When did you get so stubborn?"
"I've always been stubborn."
"True."
Lily leaned against her sister's shoulder. Just a little. Just enough.
"Don't die," she said.
Eva put her arm around her. "Wasn't planning on it."
Outside, the facility hummed with quiet purpose. Somewhere, a child laughed. Somewhere, a scientist ran another test. Somewhere, the clock was ticking.
But in this room, for this moment, there was only this.
Sisters. Waiting. Hoping.
Holding on.