Location: ONYX CORE Safehouse 7 – Baton Rouge Perimeter
Time: 3:31 a.m.
The safehouse hummed in eerie silence, the security system cycling through its automated checks. It was built to be invisible—a nondescript ranch-style unit buried under tech-grade camouflage. Most thought it was an abandoned flood shelter.
Inside, Holly Bruce was wide awake.
She sat cross-legged on her temporary bunk, sketching with a chewed-on crayon. Faith lay asleep beside her, clutching Pickles the Unicorn like a sacred relic. Holly had drawn at least eight different "Battle Dad" outfits, all of which included a flamethrower lunchbox.
Then, a soft *click*.
Her ears twitched.
The hallway door unlocked.
Footsteps. Soft. Too soft.
Holly narrowed her eyes. "ONYX agents wear tactical boots. That's... sneakers."
The door opened. Slowly.
A man stepped inside.
He wore jeans and a hoodie, a backpack slung over one shoulder. His face—clean-shaven, familiar. Too familiar. The jawline. The smile. The same eyes that used to read bedtime stories.
Faith stirred. Her sleepy eyes fluttered open.
"Daddy?"
Holly stood up slowly and stepped in front of her little sister.
"Why are you in our enemy's place?" she asked.
The man gave a gentle chuckle. "Because this place isn't just for enemies. It's for family. And you two... you're mine."
Holly didn't blink. "If you're Dad, tell me what he always says when we watch cartoons past bedtime."
The man tilted his head. "He says, 'Don't tell Mom, and I'll make microwave s'mores.'"
Faith gasped. "That's it! He remembers!"
But Holly didn't lower her guard. Her eyes flicked to the backpack.
"Let me guess. No s'mores in there?"
He smiled sadly. "Only memories. Ones you should've shared with me."
Location: Extraction Helicopter – En Route to Safehouse 7
Time: 3:34 a.m.
The bayou below streaked past in dark blurs as the chopper thudded toward Safehouse 7.
Ryan paced inside, armored up but pale. Emily sat buckled in, checking her pulse pistol.
Bella leaned forward, clutching a hot pack to her bruised ribs. "This isn't just about replacement anymore, is it? He wants what makes you *you*."
Ryan shook his head. "No. He wants what makes me *Dad*."
His wristcom buzzed.
> LIVE FEED: SAFEHOUSE 7
> ROOM 2B – VISUAL CONNECTED
He tapped it.
The display lit up. There was Faith, sitting on the bed. Holly standing protectively in front of her.
And him.
Wearing Ryan's face.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor.
Reading *Goodnight Moon*.
Ryan's fingers tightened around the screen.
"I'm going to rip his voice box out with my bare hands."
Emily nodded. "You better hurry. He's halfway through the page with the mush."
Location: Safehouse 7 – Children's Quarters
Time: 3:37 a.m.
Version Zero closed the book.
"The old lady whispered 'hush'," he said softly.
Faith clapped. Holly didn't.
She had one hand behind her back, gripping a small ONYX-issued taser. Standard field protocol for minor dependents.
"You're not our dad," she said calmly.
"I was built from him," Zero said. "Every memory. Every bedtime. I remember when Faith said 'Wuv you, Daddy' and tried to feed him a crayon. I remember the smell of pancake Saturdays."
"Then you should remember what happens when you sneak in without knocking."
The taser crackled.
He moved fast. Too fast.
He snatched the taser from her hand with robotic speed and crushed it.
"I'm not here to hurt you," he said. "I just want you to see it. That I *could* have been better. If I had been given a chance."
"Well," Holly muttered, "you blew it."
Location: Safehouse 7 Perimeter – Roof Infiltration Point
Time: 3:39 a.m.
Ryan landed hard on the roof. The wind from the chopper's downdraft blew his hair sideways.
Emily and Bella fast-roped down behind him.
Ryan activated thermal view.
"Three heat signatures inside. One is way too still. That's Holly. She's in defensive posture. The tall one is... him."
Bella pulled her sidearm. "You want me to go in loud or quiet?"
Ryan glanced at her. "Just don't shoot the wrong me."
Emily clipped her belt. "Or the short ones."
Ryan cracked his neck.
"Let's bring Dad home."
(TO BE CONTINUED...)