Chapter 162
Winter’s boots barely made a sound as he walked down the dimly lit corridors of the base, but his mind was a storm. The conversation with Marcus and the rest was still fresh, their words ringing in Winter’s ears like a warning bell.
Human experimentation. The base not being safe for ability users. Something on the loose that even the soldiers were worried about...
What the fuck was running loose in the base?
He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to focus. If he let his emotions take over, he’d make mistakes. And mistakes got people killed. The hallways stretched ahead, metallic walls humming faintly with the vibrations of distant machinery. The air smelled of oil, sweat, and something stale—like secrets rotting in the dark.
As he approached Bale’s hideout, he double-checked his surroundings. The storage room was tucked away in an abandoned section of the barracks, away from prying eyes. He rapped his knuckles against the steel door—three short taps, a pause, then two more.
The door creaked open just a sliver before Bale pulled him inside and shut it quickly behind him.
The small room was a mess. Wires snaked across the floor, leading to multiple monitors that flickered with endless streams of encrypted data. Papers were scattered over the only desk, some with hastily scribbled notes, others with redacted reports that Bale had been desperately trying to piece together. The glow from the screens cast deep shadows on Bale’s face, emphasizing the exhaustion in his eyes.
"You look like shit," Winter muttered.
Bale huffed, rubbing a hand over his stubbled jaw. "Yeah, well, decrypting government-level encryption on a timer will do that to you." He gestured to the screen. "But I got something."
Winter leaned in. "Tell me."
Bale’s fingers tapped against the keyboard, pulling up a file filled with redacted paragraphs and ominous code names.