Chapter 19
Kaelyn awoke strapped to a metal table in a sterile, silent chamber that hummed with the low thrum of electricity. The air was colder than anything she’d felt before—not just temperature-wise, but empty. Emotionless. The kind of cold that told her she was far from any human kindness.
She tried moving, but the restraints across her wrists and ankles were locked tight. A red sensor above her head blinked softly, tracking her vitals.
She was in Tamar’s orbiting black site—the place where the Anchor Project was buried.
Footsteps echoed outside the chamber. The door slid open with a mechanical sigh. A man in a white coat entered, flanked by two heavily armored guards. His face was thin, sharp, and familiar.
“Kaelyn Barnett,” he said, voice polished like glass. “Asset K-07. You’re still alive.”
Kaelyn kept her expression blank. “Disappointed?”
“Frankly, yes,” he replied. “We had assumed you’d been terminated along with the others.”
“I got lucky.”
He gave her a slow, cruel smile. “You always were the unpredictable one.”
Kaelyn tilted her head. “Still trying to play God, Doctor Renner?”
His smile faltered slightly. “Let’s not get dramatic. You’re here because Tamar needs to understand the mutation that allowed you to survive decommissioning. Every other asset was accounted for. Except you. And the ones you’ve rescued.”
“You mean the people you froze like meat in a freezer.”
“They were… assets in storage. You know how it works.”
Kaelyn’s stare was unflinching. “I used to. Not anymore.”
Renner leaned in. “You want to play human, Kaelyn. But you were made in a lab like the rest. You are not special.”
Kaelyn smiled faintly. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
Renner tapped on his tablet, and the restraints slowly released with a mechanical click. The guards tensed, but Renner waved them down.
“We’re not afraid of you,” he said. “You’re compliant. You’ve always been compliant.”
Kaelyn rose slowly, rubbing her wrists. “Then why am I still breathing?”
Renner’s smile returned. “Because we want you to meet someone.”
They escorted her down a narrow hallway of polished steel, through a blast door that hissed as it opened. Inside, the room was empty—except for a chair in the center.
Sitting in it was a figure.
Female. Tall. Muscular. Motionless.
Kaelyn stopped in her tracks.
The figure looked just like her—but older. Harder. Like someone who had been through hell and never left.
Renner spoke beside her. “Meet Anchor. Project ANCHR-P1. The ultimate control system.”
Kaelyn stepped forward slowly. Anchor opened her eyes.
Silver.
Not like Kaelyn’s blue. These shimmered like metal.
“She doesn’t think,” Renner said. “She responds. She absorbs threat data and adapts. She’s what you were meant to become.”
Kaelyn stood just a few feet away now. Anchor’s eyes locked on hers. No emotion. No curiosity. Just analysis.
“She’s not alive,” Kaelyn whispered.
“No,” Renner replied. “She’s perfect.”
Anchor suddenly moved—quick, fluid, precise. In a flash, she was standing, eyes scanning Kaelyn, head tilting.
“Asset K-07. Classification: rogue,” Anchor said in a cold, flat tone.
Kaelyn didn’t flinch. “That’s right. I’m the glitch in your perfect machine.”
Anchor stepped closer.
“Status: unstable. Recommended protocol: neutralize.”
Before the guards could react, Anchor lunged.
Kaelyn barely ducked in time, rolling under the strike and grabbing one of the guards’ stun batons. With a crackle of energy, she shoved it into Anchor’s side—but the woman didn’t even flinch.
“Kaelyn!” Renner shouted. “Stand down!”
Anchor spun and backhanded Kaelyn into the wall. The impact left her gasping, pain flaring through her ribs.
But she smiled.
Because while the guards moved to subdue Anchor, Kaelyn reached into her boot and activated the signal transmitter hidden in her sole.
A green light blinked once.
The signal was sent.
Back on Earth, inside the mountain base, the tracker on the console began to blink. Sebastian’s eyes widened.
“She did it,” he breathed. “We have Anchor’s coordinates.”
M-2 cracked her knuckles. “Then what are we waiting for?”
In orbit, Kaelyn lay on the cold floor, barely conscious, as Anchor turned toward her again.
But she’d done it.
She’d found the weapon.
Now all that remained… was stopping it.