The room was silent.
Not the peaceful kind of silence…
But the kind that pressed against your chest.
Heavy. Suffocating. Watching.
Elsa stood in the center of it.
Motionless.
Her body was upright, perfectly balanced—too perfect.
Her fingers didn't twitch.
Her chest barely rose.
And her eyes…
They glowed.
A deep, unnatural red.
Not human.
Not hers.
She wasn't there anymore.
A soft click echoed through the room.
Footsteps followed.
Slow. Measured. Confident.
From the shadows, a woman emerged.
Miranda.
Her presence alone seemed to drain the warmth from the air. The faint glow of the lights flickered as if even electricity feared her.
She stepped closer to Elsa, observing her creation.
A small, satisfied smile curved on her lips.
"Perfect…" she whispered.
Elsa didn't respond.
Didn't blink.
Didn't breathe like a normal person.
She stood like a puppet—
Waiting.
Listening.
Obeying.
Then—
The door opened.
The sound cut through the silence like a blade.
Miranda didn't turn immediately.
She already knew who it was.
Dr. Louis walked in.
Calm.
Composed.
As if he had just entered an ordinary room… not one filled with control, darkness, and something far more dangerous.
His sharp eyes moved once—
And locked onto Elsa.
He studied her for a moment.
Then, slowly…
A faint smile appeared.
"Nice work… Miranda."
Miranda turned slightly, her red eyes flickering with quiet pride.
"I know," she replied smoothly.
"Now she belongs to us."
Elsa's lips parted slightly.
Not to speak.
Not to breathe.
But as if waiting for a command.
Louis stepped closer, circling her slowly.
Analyzing.
Calculating.
His mind never rested.
"But what about Peter?" he asked.
The question lingered in the air.
Miranda didn't even hesitate.
"I don't care about him," she said coldly.
"He's just a boy."
Louis stopped walking.
His expression didn't change much…
But something in his eyes did.
A small shift.
A deeper thought.
"We can't leave him like that."
Miranda tilted her head, studying him now instead.
"Why?"
A pause.
Louis exhaled slowly.
His voice remained calm—
But something darker hid beneath it.
"If we control him too…" he said quietly,
"…Angel will be completely alone."
Silence.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Dangerous.
Miranda's eyes narrowed.
Not in anger—
In curiosity.
"Why do you care about her?"
For a brief second—
Something flickered across Louis's face.
Something human.
But it vanished instantly.
Replaced by something cold.
Something sharp.
"I don't care about her."
A pause.
Then his voice dropped—
Lower.
Colder.
More dangerous than before.
"I just want to kill her…"
His eyes darkened.
"…and him."
A slow smile spread across Miranda's face.
Now that—
That was the answer she wanted.
"Good."
She turned back toward Elsa, walking around her like an artist admiring a masterpiece.
"Everything is falling into place," she murmured.
Elsa's fingers twitched.
Just slightly.
Like strings being pulled tighter.
Louis walked toward the window.
Outside—
Darkness stretched endlessly.
The night was quiet.
Too quiet.
He stared into it, his reflection barely visible.
"Then it's time," he said.
Miranda nodded.
"Yes."
Her voice softened—but not with kindness.
With power.
"With this… we move forward."
She stepped closer to Elsa.
Placed a finger gently under her chin.
Lifted her face.
Those glowing red eyes met hers.
"Say it," Miranda whispered.
Elsa's lips trembled.
For a moment—
A very small moment—
Something inside her fought back.
A flicker.
A memory.
A resistance.
But it was crushed instantly.
Her eyes burned brighter.
Her voice came out—
Not hers.
Cold.
Empty.
Controlled.
"Angel…"
A pause.
"…you were never meant to survive."
Louis didn't turn.
But his eyes closed for a second.
As if he heard more in those words than anyone else.
Miranda smiled wider.
Satisfied.
Complete.
She stepped back.
"Now," she said,
"we report this… to our queen."
The air itself seemed to react.
Even the silence changed.
Heavier.
Darker.
Alive.
Louis turned slowly.
Miranda straightened.
Elsa stood still—
Waiting.
All three spoke together.
Softly.
But with fear hidden beneath the sound.
"Lander."
The name echoed.
Not loudly.
But deeply.
As if the world itself remembered it.
Outside—
The wind began to move.
Clouds covered the moon.
Darkness spread further.
Inside—
The game had already begun.
But this wasn't just a game anymore.
It was a war.
And Angel…
Was already