Chapter Text
Omega began to feel that every day on Tantiss was nothing more than a repetition inside a maze with no exit. The monotony slowly consumed the brightness within her. Each morning was no different from the last, for the one who opened the door to wake her was always Dr. Emerie Karr, the personal assistant of Dr. Hemlock. Emerie’s gentle call had become the signal for Omega to prepare herself for the same routine that awaited her.
Her work amounted to nothing more than watching Emerie draw blood from the clones who were sent in one by one, and arranging the glass vials filled with blood neatly on the cold metal tray. The sound of needles piercing skin and blood dripping into vials had become so familiar that it no longer unsettled her.
But she could not escape that fate herself. Omega, too, had to give her blood like the other clones. Emerie always told her, in a soft yet firm voice, “It is the rule here.” The words sounded simple, yet they carried the weight of chains binding her.
When the day’s blood collection was finished, Omega had to deliver the tray of vials to Nala Se, the Kaminoan chief scientist stationed in the central laboratory. Nala Se’s expressionless face never revealed the slightest trace of emotion.
Omega watched as Nala Se dropped the vials into the slot of a massive machine. The mechanism began to rumble in a low growl, turning counterclockwise slowly until, once the process was complete, the data of each blood’s owner appeared on the terminal screen.
Every day, Omega had to watch those numbers and records stream before her eyes.
Yet what puzzled her most was her own blood. Though it was collected daily like that of the other clones, it was never placed into the machine for processing. Each time she handed over the tray, Nala Se would pick up her vial only for a brief moment before discarding it into the disposal unit. A faint crack sounded each time as it was destroyed in an instant.
Omega always kept her eyes on Nala Se’s slender hands, but no matter how intently she stared, her blood was treated the same way each day—destroyed without ever being analyzed. She had asked directly once, but she had never received an answer. Still, the doubt gnawed at her from within.
Although Omega was called Nala Se’s “assistant,” the Kaminoan woman never shared the true details of what she was working on. Nala Se only said briefly that the experiments on Tantiss were entirely different from those conducted on Kamino. The reply was far too vague for a curious young girl. It always left Omega frowning in confusion. In the end, however, she forced herself not to dwell on it, for those thoughts only burdened her heart. She told herself that she had only one duty—to complete the tasks assigned to her each day.
When her work in the central laboratory was done, her next responsibility was to feed the most fearsome predators on Wayland—Lurca Hounds, the beasts Hemlock kept to serve as scouting forces in the planet’s dense forests. They were four-legged creatures with sharp claws and fangs, powerful bodies, blue hides, and glowing red eyes. They growled whenever anything approached them.
At first, the duty of feeding the Lurca Hounds had been given entirely to the droid K-9X1. Yet Emerie often noticed how Omega’s eyes seemed to brighten whenever she spent time with the beasts. Though they were predators that everyone else feared, to Omega they were the only thing that brought relief from her monotonous and weary life. Because of this, Emerie requested Hemlock’s permission to assign the task to Omega, with K-9X1 standing by to supervise.
Omega carried the scoop of dry feed in her small hands and walked slowly along the row of massive iron cages. She poured the food into each slot one by one. The pellets clattered into the bowls with a ringing sound as the predators rushed to devour them. Fierce growls mingled with the harsh crunching of jaws, echoing inside the square enclosures.
But when she reached the end of the row, she found two cages standing empty. One of them belonged to Batcher, the female Lurca she often sat beside and spoke to as if it were her closest friend.
Her heart sank for a moment. The familiar presence that had kept her from feeling alone in this place had vanished in an instant.
“LH201 and LH202 are currently on a forest reconnaissance mission,” came the dull, voice of K-9X1, flat and devoid of emotion.
Omega only let out a faint sigh. She knew it was the duty of the Lurca Hounds, yet the emptiness of the cages made the entire room feel lonelier at once.
With no companion to speak to, she placed the scoop back in its place and turned to leave. But the silence in her mind refused to release her so easily, and one thought surfaced without warning.
She wanted to see her brother.
Crosshair—one of the members of Clone Force 99, her family—was imprisoned in the lower cells as a captive. Though he rarely welcomed her visits, often speaking bitterly and telling her to stay away, for Omega it was enough simply to see him, to hear his voice, even if only a few words through the heavy iron door. It still made her feel that she had not been abandoned entirely in this cruel place.
And so she decided to change her path and descend to the underground prison. She knew well that every visit brought words sharp enough to wound her, yet she still chose to face them.
Omega rode the lift down to Level G. The echo of her footsteps rang against the metal floor. Fortunately, there were only two guards stationed at the time, and they seemed to be making their rounds elsewhere. The silence left in the corridor became her chance to hurry straight to Crosshair’s cell without hesitation.
But when she arrived… what awaited her was only emptiness. The cell where her brother’s tall, gaunt figure had once been held stood vacant.
Omega’s heart dropped. She let out a long sigh and lowered her head in disappointment. At once she knew that Crosshair had been taken to the “training room.” The name sounded ordinary, but the truth was far more horrifying than anyone could imagine. It was, in reality, Dr. Hemlock’s twisted laboratory.
A memory rose at once—the image of Crosshair in his Tantiss prison garb, walking in a dejected line with troopers at his side, his hardened face and weary eyes when they had crossed paths…
Just the thought of it told Omega all too clearly how much her brother was suffering.
For three full months she had been confined to Tantiss. Time had taught her how to conceal and suppress the torrent of feelings within her. Yet no matter how hard she tried to be strong, a small flame of hope still refused to die out—the hope that one day Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo would come to rescue both her and Crosshair from this pit of hell.
She grew weary of everything around her: the laboratory work that Emerie carried out almost entirely by herself, and the many times when Emerie told her to rest, even during working hours. The reason was always the same—that she did not want Omega to become too tired or too anxious.
Omega wandered along the endless balcony corridors that wound back and forth. The dull gray metal walls pressed on her sight, making the space feel narrower than it truly was. The passage stretched on, deep and labyrinthine, as if deliberately built to trap everything within its suffocating confines.
She let her feet carry her without thought, her heart drifting with the weariness that clung to her. Only one wish lingered within her,
'just let her not meet Hemlock along the way.'
In all the three months she had lived there, one image still clung to her memory: another mountain of Tantiss, towering high and vast, equal to the one she resided in. She had seen it once from the balcony when Emerie had led her on a tour to memorize the paths. That was the day she noticed the bridge stretched between the two mountains.
A thought quietly took shape within her. What if the other facility held something they did not want her to know? What if it concealed an exit—or something that might help her and Crosshair escape this place?
She stopped in the middle of the balcony for a moment. Her heart began to pound faster, as if the blood in her veins rushed with new urgency. The boredom and despair that had imprisoned her for so long gave way to a small surge of determination—a force that lit her eyes with excitement once more.
****
When Omega crossed the connecting bridge and stepped into the building, the first thing that touched her senses was the scent of natural soil. It lingered faintly, like the air after rain had just ceased. That strange freshness slipped into her awareness at once, so different from the sharp reek of alcohol she endured every day in the other wing.
She let her nose guide her along the faint trail of scent, curiosity pulling her deeper inside. The corridors here appeared simple, not winding and intricate like the confusing passageways she had grown used to.
At last, she reached a vast hall with a high, airy ceiling that made her lift her gaze in quiet astonishment. What struck her most was the absence of any security gates, scanners, or defensive mechanisms.
Omega paused for a moment before stepping forward slowly, urged on by her curiosity. A metal walkway stretched through the center of the room, dividing her from the patches of parched, pale-brown soil on either side.
She set her hand on the cold railing before slowly reaching out to gather a handful of earth. It crumbled into dust the moment it touched her palm.
“Hm… who’s there?”
A woman’s voice echoed sharply from behind. Omega flinched, springing upright and whipping around toward the source of the sound.
“A child?”
The owner of the voice stepped into view. She was clad in a long white coat, stained with what looked like chemicals or soil. Her face was hidden beneath a clear plastic hood, revealing only a pair of eyes fixed intently on her.
“Uh… hello. I’m sorry to intrude. I—I wandered in here by accident,” Omega stammered, slowly edging back. Her body was tense. She did not want this to reach Hemlock.
“It’s all right. This is not a dangerous place,” the woman in the coat replied softly as she raised her hands and drew back the hood.
Her face emerged clearly—fair skin against pale pink lips, eyes a deep shade of gray-black, and sleek dark hair neatly tied in a ponytail. Altogether, she carried an oddly striking charm.
“Hello. I am Dr. Erin Elvan, the biogenetic engineer assigned here,” she introduced herself with a gentle smile. “I never thought there would be a scientist this young on Tantiss… how adorable.”
Erin extended a hand clad in a white glove, stained so dark it was nearly black, toward Omega.
Omega hesitated for a moment.
“Oh… my apologies.” Dr. Erin quickly withdrew her hand, slowly pulling off the soiled glove before offering her clean hand instead, accompanied by a softer, gentler smile.
Omega lifted the corner of her lips into a faint, uneasy smile. She wasn’t truly a scientist—merely Nala Se’s assistant, tasked with handling the clones. But for the sake of courtesy, she lifted her gaze, slowly reached out to accept the handshake, and returned a polite smile.
“I… Omega. I’m Nala Se’s assistant, and I work with Emerie—ah, no, I mean… with Dr. Karr.”
“Ah… Dr. Karr,” Erin murmured, her voice warm and smooth, her expression lighting with understanding. “Dr. Hemlock’s personal assistant, isn’t she?”
The name struck Omega like a sudden drop in her chest. It was the last thing she wanted to hear. She instinctively leaned in, lowering her voice.
“Listen… Dr. Elvan, could you please not tell Hemlock that I came here?”
Erin’s storm-gray eyes rested on her in silence for a brief moment, though the smile never left her lips.
“You needn’t worry. Dr. Hemlock rarely visits this building.”
Omega drew in a long breath, her unease easing just a little. Relief welled up in her chest until it spilled over into a smile.
“That’s… a relief,” she murmured before quickly changing the subject, not wanting the air between them to grow heavy.
“So… what kind of work do people do in this building? Since I came to Tantiss, I’ve only stayed in the lab over there. I’ve never really explored this side.”
Her eyes roamed the wide room with open curiosity. Excitement, mixed with wonder, began to replace her wariness.
“The main purpose here is the study of deadly diseases—developing vaccines and medicines. We also cultivate certain dangerous plants to extract biological toxins,” Erin explained, gesturing with graceful hands. Her voice carried a depth that made her words sound all the more convincing.
“This zone is only for plants used to produce serum, not the hazardous ones. So… you can relax. Would you like to take a walk around? I’ll show you a more beautiful section. Please, this way.”
“Oh, that sounds wonderful!” Omega’s face lit up with a wide smile as she walked alongside Erin, excitement in her step. Her bright eyes darted everywhere, unwilling to miss even the smallest detail.
Erin led her through a turn into another cultivation zone. As the metal doors slid open, Omega froze in her tracks at the sight before her.
This was nothing like the rigid laboratories or dim corridors she had grown used to. Instead, it was a vast greenhouse, like a pocket of forest preserved beneath a towering glass dome. The transparent ceiling stretched high above, where artificial lamps mimicked natural sunlight, spilling down onto a riot of colorful flora.
Leaves and branches fanned out in every shade of green; some bore tiny white blossoms that drifted like mist, while others gleamed as though coated in dewdrops.
The ground was soft, carpeted with moss and short grass, carrying a fresh scent reminiscent of a forest after rain. A curved stone path wound its way through climbing vines that clung to iron pillars, reaching upward. Omega gazed around in wide-eyed wonder.
Suddenly, the blare of an emergency alarm rang through the building, its shrill cry echoing off the walls as crimson lights pulsed in rapid succession.
Omega jolted, her heart hammering against her ribs. She spun left and right in a panic.
“W–what’s happening?” Her voice shook, betraying her fear.
Erin froze. The soft smile she had worn hardened into a tense line, her eyes shadowed with concern.
“This is bad… Omega, you need to leave now. I have to check on the lab.” Her voice carried an urgency utterly unlike her usual calm.
Omega stood stunned, staring after Erin’s retreating figure as she strode away with quick, determined steps. Biting her lip, Omega felt suspicion flare within her chest.
Hesitation gnawed at her for a moment—until she drew a sharp breath and decided to follow, her movements cautious, wary.
As Erin pushed through the lab doors, chaos rushed out to meet them. Scientists were scrambling everywhere, zipping up thick white safety suits that covered them head to toe, leaving no space for air to slip through.
“What’s going on?” Erin demanded, her voice firm, eyes locking onto her pale-faced colleagues.
“It’s that idiot Lockhart!” shouted a middle-aged man, his tone shaking with both anger and fear. He was Dr. Losso, head of the department. “He let the damn vine-creeper hatchling escape from its jar! Careless fool!”
“I–I’m so sorry!” Dr. Lockhart stammered, his face bloodless, sweat dripping down his brow. His hands trembled violently as he spoke. “I had it in the glass container, but before I could seal it shut, it shot out and crawled into the ventilation ducts!”
“That little monster’s a nightmare!” Losso spat, his eyes dark with worry. “It can’t produce toxins yet, but it moves fast—almost impossible to catch! And the one that got out has razor-sharp thorns. If it scratches anyone, we’re in serious trouble!”
The air in the room grew heavy, as though fear itself had seeped into every corner. Movement faltered; even breath seemed hard to draw.
“Should we shut down the ventilation system for the whole building?” a female scientist cried, her voice quivering. “That species thrives in humidity—if it’s in the ducts, it’ll spread even faster”
“You’re right, Dr. Elvan!” Losso snapped his head toward Erin. “Order the ventilation shut down immediately. I’ll alert central command. Dr. Hemlock and the troopers will be here any moment!”
The lab erupted into frantic motion once more. White safety suits were secured tight, sealing every inch of skin, the sterile fabric flashing under the relentless red strobe. The alarm wailed on, unyielding, drowning the air in dread.
But just then
“Dr. Elvan!!”
A clear young voice rang out, cutting through the chaos. Everyone froze, their heads whipping toward the sound in stunned disbelief.
“Omega!!” Erin cried, her face draining of all color as horror seized her. She lunged toward the girl, who stood stiffly in the doorway. “Why haven’t you left?!”
In that instant, every gaze in the room turned to Omega. The pressure crashed over her like a tidal wave—an unstable, lethal plant on the loose, and a defenseless girl without protective gear standing exposed. She was the most vulnerable target in the room.
Losso’s furious curse cracked the air like thunder.
“What the—?! A child?!”
It was the second shock of the day, and it rattled him to the core. But before he could unleash his anger, Erin had no time to explain herself to her superior.
At that very moment, something far worse unfolded.
A shadow split the air, darting past Omega so fast it was nearly invisible. The girl barely had time to register it before her body jolted violently—then blood burst forth in a crimson spray. Scarlet droplets pattered against the cold metal floor with chilling clarity. Drip… drip… Each note cut into the hearts of those who heard it.
“No!!”
Erin’s scream tore through the lab as she rushed forward, catching Omega in her arms. Her hands trembled as warmth spilled between her fingers. She pressed cloth desperately to the wound, fighting a merciless countdown.
Losso ground his teeth, his eyes wide with dread.
“Damn it! This is bad—Lockhart! Did you see where it went?!”
“I–it’s too fast, Doctor!” Lockhart stammered, near collapse. “I only caught a glimpse—it shot back into the ventilation ducts!”
The air grew heavy and suffocating. With the ventilation system shut down, the silence felt thick, broken only by ragged, fearful breaths.
Erin bit her lip hard. Blood kept seeping through, her hands shaking though she refused to let go of the makeshift bandage.
“Doctor! I need to treat her immediately—permission to move her to the infirmary!” Her voice was steady, yet carried a sharp edge of fear.
With hurried hands, she wrapped a rough dressing over the wound before lifting the girl onto her back. Omega whimpered faintly, her eyes glazing over, slipping further from consciousness.
Losso exhaled sharply and barked, “Go! Hurry! Poor child… Damn it all, this is on you, Lockhart!”
“I—I’m sorry! I’m so sorry…” Lockhart bowed his head again and again, his broken voice barely more than a whimper.
****
“Mmm…”
A faint groan slipped past Omega’s lips as her heavy eyelids fluttered open. The world before her was blurred, shrouded in mist. She blinked again and again, struggling to bring the shapes into focus. Slowly, the haze lifted.
And the first person she saw… was Emerie.
“E… Emerie…” Her fragile voice was no more than a whisper.
Emerie immediately leaned closer, her smile warm, her tone gentle and reassuring.
“It’s all right, Omega. You’re safe now.”
Those simple words loosened the tight knot of fear inside her chest. The dull glaze in her eyes gave way to a faint shimmer of relief. She forced a small, weary smile in return.
Omega shifted, trying to push herself up on trembling arms. Her breath came unsteady and thin, but Emerie was quick to steady her, sliding an arm around her shoulders with soft care, helping her sit upright on the bed.
But the warmth shattered in an instant.
The sliding doors hissed open. Silence fractured like glass, replaced by a sudden chill that seeped into the room. Omega stiffened, her body going rigid as her eyes caught sight of the one person she dreaded most.
Dr. Hemlock.
And at his side—Dr. Erin Elvan, the last face Omega remembered before everything went black.
“Hemlock…” Omega muttered, her voice clipped, betraying her fear as she swallowed against a dry throat. She dared only the briefest glance, unable to meet his gaze head-on—because she knew all too well that punishment awaited her.
Hemlock stood in silence, his cold eyes piercing through the room. That chilling stare alone was enough to twist her stomach into knots, as though something unseen had gripped it tight. His silence was far more terrifying than any words of reproach could ever be.
Omega lowered her gaze—and only then did she notice something was wrong. She was no longer wearing the uniform she always had on. Instead, her body was clad in plain gray clothing: a loose shirt and trousers, not unlike a hospital patient’s attire.
Her heart lurched.
“W-what… what happened to me? I can’t remember anything…” Her voice trembled as she lifted her eyes toward Erin, standing at Hemlock’s side, as though begging for an explanation.
Erin’s gaze met hers instantly, her expression softening. She stepped closer and spoke in a gentle tone.
“It was an accident, Omega. A vine-creeper hatchling escaped from its container in the lab. They move incredibly fast—and this species has sharp thorns, instinctively lashing out at anything in their way…”
She paused briefly, as if the memory still clung to her vision.
“At that moment, you weren’t wearing protective gear. One of its thorns slashed across your collarbone. Fortunately… at this stage of its growth, it hadn’t yet developed its toxin.”
Omega’s eyes widened slightly. Her hand lifted to her shoulder, almost on reflex.
“You lost so much blood that you fainted. But now, everything is safe.” Erin offered her a tender smile, her gaze warm, as though to soothe the girl’s fear.
“We must also apologize for the carelessness of our department, Dr. Hemlock.” Erin stepped forward, bowing her head deeply, her posture heavy with remorse.
Hemlock cast her a brief, glacial glance before answering in a steady, unyielding tone.
“I’ve already spoken with Dr. Losso. There will be consequences for such negligence in safety. As for the specimen that caused the incident… it has been secured by the troopers and destroyed.”
Every weighted word in his voice carried a message that no mistake—no matter how small—would ever be overlooked.
“Yes, Dr. Hemlock,” Erin bowed her head once more.
Then Hemlock slowly shifted his gaze toward Omega. The silence that followed made her heart pound so violently it felt as if it might burst from her chest. At last, he spoke, his tone ice-cold.
“As for you, Omega… This is not your workplace. And furthermore, it is still work hours. Finding you here can only mean one thing—you abandoned your post.”
The accusation cut straight through her chest, leaving Omega frozen in place. Her small frame quivered faintly. She wanted to defend herself, but her lips felt as though they were pinned shut.
Before the suffocating silence could crush the air from her lungs, Emerie’s steady voice cut through. She quickly met Hemlock’s eyes.
“I was the one who told her to take a break, Doctor… She must’ve grown restless and wandered here without thinking.”
All eyes turned to Hemlock, waiting to see how he would respond to Emerie’s boldness in speaking out to shield Omega.
A flicker of warmth stirred in Omega’s chest at Emerie’s defense. She wanted desperately to argue—every time Hemlock used that oppressive stare, irritation flared inside her—but she also knew that if she pushed any further, things would only escalate. So she bit back her words, choosing silence, and turned her face away instead.
“It seems I’ve given you too much freedom, Omega. You are to be confined to your quarters for one day. Carry it out, Dr. Karr.”
With those words, Hemlock turned on his heel and left the room. Omega released a long breath of relief, and Emerie seemed to share in that sentiment. It was fortunate the matter had ended without turning worse.
“Thank you, Dr. Elvan… and I’m sorry for the trouble. If I had just gone back when you first told me, you wouldn’t have had to step in like this.”
“It’s alright. And next time, if we meet again, just call me Erin,” she said with a small smile, reaching out her hand. Omega took it, and the two exchanged a faint smile of understanding.
“Thank you for looking after Omega, Doctor.” Emerie added with a gentle smile. Erin returned it with a polite bow of her head.
****
They followed Hemlock along the balcony corridor. Each officer they passed wore the weary look left behind by the earlier incident.
“Kid… are you all right now?” Dr. Lockhart hurried toward Omega, his face anxious and full of concern. He was the one who had caused the monstrous vine to break loose.
Hemlock and Emerie stopped walking, choosing to observe.
“I’m fine now. Dr. Elvan already treated me, and I don’t even feel the wound anymore,” Omega said, tugging her loose collar slightly to reveal the gauze and cotton pad secured with plaster across her clavicle.
At that very moment, the plaster’s adhesive came loose and the cotton pad fell to the floor. Omega bent down to pick it up.
She glanced at the spot where the plaster had been. Slowly, she raised her hand and pressed it again, confirming what she saw. But her skin was smooth—without a bruise, without even a trace of the injury that should have been there.
“What… what is happening to me?” she whispered, bewilderment flooding her thoughts.
Lockhart stood frozen. The worry etched across his features moments ago shifted into astonishment. He cast a hesitant glance at Hemlock, as though seeking an explanation, yet he dared not speak a word.
Emerie quickly stepped closer to Omega. Her slender hand brushed lightly against the girl’s clavicle to be sure. “It’s true… there’s no wound at all.” Her voice carried the sound of forced calm, but her eyes betrayed a worry she could not conceal.
At last, Hemlock, who had been watching in silence, fixed his sharp blue gaze on Omega. “A wound heals completely in less than an hour…” His voice flowed slow and cold. “Fascinating.”
“Return to your work, Dr. Lockhart. Before I increase your penalty for negligence—especially you, the one responsible for this disastrous event.”
Hemlock’s cutting tone drained the color from Lockhart’s face. Panic seized him, and his hands trembled uncontrollably. He bowed so low his head nearly touched the floor.
“My deepest apologies, Doctor,” he stammered, before spinning on his heels and hurrying away, his quick steps almost breaking into a run until he vanished down the corridor.
The remaining officers kept their eyes fixed on Hemlock, yet not one dared to whisper a word. Silence fell over the hall once more.
By the time they reached the main facility, the heavy gloom familiar to Tantiss enclosed them again.
Emerie guided Omega gently back to her room, offering a tender smile laced with concern. “You will be confined for one day. All your access will be revoked, Omega.” Yet her tone sounded more like comfort than admonition.
Omega sank into a chair and drew in a long breath. She knew this punishment was not severe—just one day in this four-walled room. And yet, deep inside, she could not shake the feeling of being locked inside an invisible cage.
****
Inside Hemlock’s darkened office, dim shadows swallowed every corner. Only the faint blue glow from his desk cast a flickering light.
Amid the silence, he moved his chair slowly before sinking into it with still composure. His mind replayed the conversation with Dr. Losso, echoing relentlessly in his thoughts.
He slipped a hand into his coat and pulled out a small data chip. With a soft click, he inserted it into the console on his desk. At once, a blue hologram flared to life in the center of the room, projecting the chaos inside the biogenetics laboratory.
Scientists in safety gear scrambled to contain the creature that had broken free, while the small figure of Omega rushed in—unaware of the fate awaiting her. Dr. Erin Elvan darted forward to catch her, and then the image revealed the moment the girl collapsed onto the floor.
Hemlock narrowed his eyes. His long fingers slid across the holographic controls, slowing the playback frame by frame until every motion seemed suspended in the air. He zoomed in, sharpening the projection. What appeared before him hardened his gaze even more.
A dark, vine-shaped appendage with a pointed tip drove straight toward Omega’s body. What Losso had said—that the girl had been pierced through—was no exaggeration. It was the truth.
Suddenly, he shut the hologram off. Darkness reclaimed the room. Hemlock sat unmoving in the shadows, assessing what he had seen with cold precision. Struck like that, no one should have survived. And yet Omega had—without even a single mark left behind.
To his own surprise, relief washed through him. The defiant child was not dead. Omega remained vital to his research. He would never allow her to die.
But what unsettled him was not the incident itself. It was the mystery he could not ignore.
Why had Omega’s wound vanished as if it had never existed?
Leaning back against his chair, his piercing eyes searched the darkness.
Until one thought rose sharply in his mind.
Yes… the one who had been with the girl after the attack was Dr. Elvan. She was the key—and perhaps the only one who held the answer.
****