They didn’t stick around long. Lucinda could barely hide her disgust for the night market, and after a quick word with Grace, she was out of there. She decided right then she’d never set foot in this place again.
Meanwhile, Connor and Iceblade had already made it to Country D, slipping into the cloning facility under cover of darkness. The night pressed down, thick and heavy, wrapping the research base in shadows. Only a few searchlights cut through the gloom, sweeping lazily over the barbed wire fence. Connor and Iceblade hugged the corroded chain-link, moving silently as they dodged the patrols.
“Security’s even tighter than I thought,” Iceblade murmured, scanning the buildings with his tiny binoculars.
Connor’s eyes were hard and cold. “They’re hiding something big. Of course security’s tight.”
They found a spot the cameras missed, tossed a rope over, and climbed the fence without making a sound. The buildings inside were all orderly lines and sharp corners, but everything about the place felt off, too quiet, almost unnatural.
They crept down a dim hallway, every step echoing in the silence. The air was heavy with the sting of disinfectant and something else, something sweet and wrong. When they rounded a corner, both of them froze.
The hallway opened up to rows of glass incubation pods, each one holding a person who looked perfectly normal. The clones drifted in pale blue liquid, floating like babies in a dream. Above every pod, a screen flashed with streams of data.
“This is just… inhuman,” Iceblade said, even he couldn’t keep the disbelief out of his voice.
Connor clenched his fists. “We have to wipe this place out.”
That’s when footsteps echoed from further down the hall. Instinct took over and they melted into the shadows. A group of researchers in white coats hurried past, pushing a gurney. There was someone on it, and even though only half his face showed, Connor knew instantly. It was Garrett.
As soon as the corridor cleared, Connor and Iceblade slipped after them, keeping close. The researchers rolled Garrett into a lab. Through the gap in the door, Connor saw Garrett strapped to a metal table, pale as death, tubes snaking from his arms.
“Garrett,” Connor whispered, just loud enough to carry.

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