Olivia's POV
So first phase of our plan: take all the records from Anika's lab.
Not the main lab—the one Vince believed was buried deeper, more protected, somewhere only high-clearance monsters like Jonathan Patterson himself knew. But this one was real enough. Functional. Active. And filled with the kind of documents, footage, and evidence that could set everything on fire.
The silence in the tunnel wasn't quiet—it pulsed. Every echo of our footsteps was a whisper of the past clawing back to life. Concrete walls, lined with mold and time, curved around us like ribs of some buried beast. I kept close behind Vince as he guided us through the underground maze, his grip steady on the flashlight, while Sebastian stayed just a step behind me, hand brushing my back every few strides.
We were here.
The lab Vince had whispered about, the one buried beneath fake permits and sealed off to the world. The place where they did it. The experiments.
My hands were shaking.
"Left hallway leads to the primary lab," Vince muttered. "Security systems should still be running on backup, but Luke's working from the van. He'll have remote access in ninety seconds."
Sebastian nodded, glancing at his watch. "We get what we came for, and we don't split up."
"I know," I said, my voice sharper
Vince halted at a rusted steel door, scanning an old badge through a cracked panel. It blinked red, then green.
The door groaned open like something alive.
Fluorescent lights buzzed to life. I stepped inside and immediately wished I hadn't.
Rows of empty glass chambers lined the walls. They were too small for adults. A faint smell of bleach and decay still lingered in the air. Medical trays, syringes, and shredded straps were tossed across metal counters.
"God," I breathed.
"This was one of the emotional stimulus labs," Vince said grimly. "They tested extreme response conditioning here. Crying, isolation, affection deprivation."
"And we were supposed to be the control group," I whispered.
"No," Sebastian said beside me, his voice low and hard. "We were always part of the experiment."
We moved deeper. Screens blinked awake as Vince powered on the central server. "Luke, talk to me."
"I'm in," Luke's voice buzzed through our earpieces. "Internal firewall's a dinosaur, but it's clunky. Look for a directory called ECHO_Prime/InternalFootage. They logged everything. Even test failures."
"Copy," Vince replied, fingers flying over the keyboard. "Pulling drives now. Give me five."
While he worked, I moved toward a row of drawers labeled Psych Eval – Group A. I opened one—and froze.
Files.
Labeled with names.
Children.
Each manila folder was stamped with subject IDs and dates. I found one: "Subject 018 – Aaron Mathew."
My blood turned to ice. I flipped it open.
Heart rate charts. Audio logs. Screenshots of surveillance footage.
Lines and lines of text detailing emotional reactions, sleeplessness, panic levels.
They recorded everything.
Then I saw the second file.
"Subject 021 – Kasish Lawron there were many name imprented and what make my blood boild that sebs name was Subject 001 he was in this experiment before even he was born
Before I could speak, the monitor nearest me blinked. Vince tapped the keys, and a wall of videos loaded. Grainy footage of children crying. Screaming. Some curled in corners. Some staring into nothing.
"This isn't just data," I said, backing away. "It's horror."
"They filmed everything," Vince muttered. "They studied grief like it was a science."
On another screen, I saw a log labeled Anika Grey – Session Review.
And then—
Footsteps.
Sebastian tensed. Vince held up a hand. The lab door creaked again.
And in walked Dr. Anika Grey.
She looked almost exactly like her ID photo. Cold eyes, tailored lab coat, and not even a trace of regret.
"Well," she said softly. "I see the rats found the nest."
I stepped forward. "You're the monster who designed this."
She smiled. "No. I was merely a surgeon carving away what didn't work."
"You tortured children," I snapped. "You turned us into experiments."
"Emotions are messy. Unreliable. You—especially you—were unpredictable, Olivia. But you gave us results no other subject could."
Sebastian moved in front of me as she approached. "Don't take another step."
Anika tilted her head, smiling faintly. "Still protective. Still reactive. A shame you don't realize how beautifully crafted you are."
I clenched my fists, heart racing.
She didn't flinch.
"I should let you break her jaw," Sebastian muttered to me. "But not yet."
Vince raised the tranquilizer gun. "You're coming with us."
"I won't make this easy," she warned.
"You already made it hard," Vince said. "Now it's our turn."
He fired. She slumped.
Sebastian caught her before she hit the floor.
"Cameras?" I asked.
"Looped for eight minutes," Luke's voice answered. "Go. Now."
We moved fast. Vince grabbed the hard drives. I took a second folder stuffed with signatures—contracts, authorizations, payments. Every one stamped with the names we'd seen on the board back at the safehouse.
Senator Halbrook. Director Langston. A former Secretary of Health.
They weren't just funding Project ECHO. They were protecting it.
Authorizing the trauma. Hiding the bodies.
And at the center of it all—
Jonathan Patterson.
I stared at his name on dozens of documents. On emails with subject lines like "Emotional Conditioning Update" and "Viability Forecasts." On schematics that mapped out "optimal trauma phases."
Sebastian didn't respond. He didn't need to.
We carried Anika through the escape tunnel Vince had mapped weeks ago. It smelled like old gas and wet stone. As we moved, I kept my eyes on the folders, on the evidence we now held.
They couldn't hide anymore.
Once we reached the van, Luke opened the back from his terminal. He was calm, focused, still guiding us from miles away.
"She's sedated," Vince said, laying Anika on the floor. "She'll wake up in a few hours. We'll be ready."
The moment I climbed in and the door shut, I felt the breakdown crawling up my spine.
"Liv," Sebastian whispered, his hand finding mine.
"I am Fine are you ?," I murmured.
"Yes me too, it's a long journey ahead of us we just have to wait Anika was simple but there would be harder for the next person"
I nodded "but we are ready to fight this" Together" I told him
"Together" he replied I gave him a smile
And turned toward the files again.
Photos. Emails. Surveillance videos.
They thought they were building something invincible.
They didn't know we'd survived it.
"They wanted us to feel pain," I said, tightening my grip. "Now they're going to feel it too."
Sebastian met my eyes. "We're not experiments anymore."
Vince turned back from the driver's seat, eyes fierce.
"We're the evidence that will destroy them."
After Reaching thje safe house
We had thrown her into one of the makeshift holding rooms Vince built—small, cold, stripped of any comfort. Sebastian locked the door, his eyes dark with fury and exhaustion.
I stood in the hallway of the underground safehouse, my breathing shallow. The weight of what we were doing was finally sinking in. My muscles ached. My mind was spinning. But there was one more thing I needed to do.
I turned to Sebastian. He was leaning against the wall, running a hand through his hair, the tension in his shoulders unbearable to look at.
"I want to see them," I said quietly.
He froze. "Liv…"
"I want to see my parents."
He looked at me like I'd asked him to open the gates of hell.
"No," he said firmly. "You don't need that. Not now."
"I do need that." My voice cracked. "I need to look them in the eye. I need to understand how they could do this to me. I want them to know I'm not their pawn anymore."
Sebastian stared at the ground for a long moment, jaw clenched. I could see the war in his eyes. The part of him that wanted to protect me. The part that didn't want me to face the poison that raised me. But I wasn't a child anymore. And this wasn't just about pain. It was about closure.
"They're not going to give you the answers you want," he said.
"I don't want answers," I whispered. "I want to tell them they mean nothing to me now."
He finally looked at me. "Then I'm going with you."
We walked down the dim hallway together in silence. Vince had already prepared a second room in the opposite wing of the underground structure—another cell. Just like the one Anika was in. He'd been building this place for ten years, preparing for a war only he saw coming. It was buried beneath layers of rock and concrete, powered by an off-grid generator, protected by codes, metal, steel, and secrets.
He'd given everything for this. His life, his love, his future. Now it was our last sanctuary.
The door to the room opened with a heavy clang.
Inside sat my parents—quiet, composed, detached. My father had his legs crossed like he was in a business meeting. My mother sat perfectly still, her eyes dead. I stepped in first, my pulse deafening in my ears.
They looked up at me.
My mother's lips curled faintly. "Well. Look who finally decided to act out."
"Sit down," my father said calmly. "We need to talk about this mess you've made."
I blinked slowly. "You really think this is my mess?"
"You let yourself get dragged into something bigger than you understand," he replied, as if I were a child again. "You always were a disappointment, Olivia."
My throat burned, but I didn't look away. "So it's true."
"What is?" he asked, completely void of remorse.
"That I was never wanted. That I was an accident. A mistake."
My mother didn't even blink. "Yes. You were."
I felt Sebastian flinch behind me, but I held up a hand.
"You never mattered to us," my father said, like he was commenting on the weather. "You were a means to an end. A way into the Project. A tool. We made a deal, and we benefited from it. That's life."
I swallowed the scream building in my chest. "You sold me. You let them use me."
"You were useful," he replied. "Now? You're just making things difficult."
I stepped forward slowly, until I was only a few feet from him. I could see the lines around his eyes, the lack of soul in them. I could smell the cold calculation.
"Well, don't worry," I said softly. "Once this is over, once we burn this whole thing to the ground... you'll never have to think of me again."
He smirked. "You think it's going to be that easy? You think Jonathan Patterson is someone you can just take down like a common criminal?"
I tilted my head. "He bleeds like everyone else. That's enough."
"You're a foolish little girl," he sneered. "You think you're strong now because you've got a few rebels and a safehouse? He's been planning this for decades. He's untouchable."
"No," I said, my voice calm, steel-edged. "He's terrified. That's why he's hunting us. That's why he's lashing out. Because the people he hurt are no longer afraid of him."
I leaned closer. "And neither am I."
My father stared at me, amused.
"You don't know the kind of man he is."
"No," I said, stepping back. "But he's about to know the kind of girl I am."
I turned and walked out of the room.
Sebastian was right behind me, quiet until the door slammed shut behind us.
He looked at me. "You okay?"
"No," I admitted. "But I will be."
He reached for my hand, squeezing it tightly.
We weren't just running anymore.
We were coming for them. One by one.
And no one—not Jonathan, not my parents, not the system—was going to silence us again.