*Dr. Karen Dergors*
---
The email arrived at 4:47 AM.
Subject line: *We need to discuss your research.*
Karen almost deleted it as spam. But the sender's address caught her eye. Internal. From Prometheus Institute's server. An account she didn't recognize.
The message was brief:
*Dr. Dergors,*
*Your formula is no longer secure. Check the synthesis logs for Batch Beta-15. Security footage from Lab 3 has been edited. Your lab tech, Stevens, hasn't been seen in three days.*
*A friend.*
Karen's hands trembled as she pulled up the logs.
Everything looked normal at first glance. But she knew her data intimately. There—a two-second gap in the timestamp. Almost imperceptible.
Someone had accessed the synthesis protocol.
She cross-referenced with security footage. It showed her working alone that night. But the angles were wrong. Someone had spliced in older footage to cover their tracks.
Stevens.
The lab tech with the gambling problem. So eager to work overtime. Who'd had access to her key card when she'd asked him to grab supplies.
"Damn it," she whispered.
Then louder.
"Damn it!"
---
She grabbed her phone. Started to call security. Stopped.
If the email was right—if someone inside Prometheus was involved—who could she trust?
Instead, she dialed her husband.
"Karen?" David's voice was thick with sleep. "What's wrong?"
"I need you to take Melissa and go to your mother's. Today."
"What? Karen, what's happening?"
"Please. Just trust me. Someone's stolen part of my research. I don't know how far this goes, but I need to know you're both safe."
Silence stretched. Then David spoke again, fully awake.
"How bad is it?"
"Remember what I told you about Chance? About how it could be misused?"
She stared at her computer screen. Months of work that could revolutionize or destroy.
"Someone's trying to synthesize it outside the lab. Without safety protocols. Without purity standards..."
"It could kill people."
"Or worse. Create addicts. Destabilize everything we've worked toward with integration."
She thought of the protestors outside. The growing tensions.
"I'm going to Director Mitchell. This needs to be contained."
---
But Mitchell wasn't in his office at 7 AM.
His assistant claimed he was in meetings all day. Unreachable. Karen tried calling. Texting. Even showed up at the board meeting.
Security turned her away.
By noon, desperation drove her to break protocol. She couldn't wait for official channels while someone produced bootleg Chance.
She copied all her research onto encrypted drives. Documented every detail that could help identify counterfeit versions.
That's when she noticed them.
Two men in the parking lot. Watching the building. They'd been there when she arrived. Still there hours later.
Security guards didn't stand like that. Coiled. Ready.
She took the service elevator to the basement. Exited through the loading dock. Her car was two blocks away in the overflow lot.
She'd made it halfway when footsteps echoed behind her.
"Dr. Dergors?"
---
She turned.
A young man. Nervous. Sweating despite the cool air.
"Yes?"
"My employer would like to discuss a business proposition. Regarding your research."
"I don't discuss my work outside official channels."
She kept walking.
"He said you'd say that."
The man pulled out a phone. Showed her a video.
Security footage. But not from the lab.
From her house.
Melissa leaving for school that morning.
Ice flooded Karen's veins.
"You're threatening my daughter?"
"Protecting her. As long as you cooperate."
He handed her a card.
"Tonight. 9 PM. Come alone. Bring your complete research data. Not the partial formula Stevens stole. Everything."
The card had only an address. Southside. Gang territory.
"And if I refuse? If I go to the police?"
The man smiled sadly.
"Stevens thought he could handle things himself too. They found pieces of him in three different dumpsters."
---
After he left, Karen sat in her car, shaking.
Her life's work—meant to heal the divide between species—had become a weapon. And now her family was in danger.
She called David.
"Are you at your mother's?"
"Just arrived. Karen, you're scaring me."
"Good. Stay scared. Stay there. Don't tell anyone where you are."
She thought of the video. Melissa walking to school. Unaware she was being watched.
"I'm going to fix this."
"How?"
She looked at the card. The address that might be a meeting or a trap.
"By doing what I do best. Science."
---
Back in her lab, Karen worked with fevered intensity.
If they wanted her complete research, she'd give it to them. But she'd build in safeguards. Markers that would identify any batch made from her data. Molecular signatures that could be traced.
She prepared two versions.
One genuine.
One subtly flawed.
The flaw wouldn't be obvious. Wouldn't affect the initial high. But it would cause rapid degradation. Any Chance made from the flawed formula would lose potency within days. Become useless.
As she worked, she thought about the morning's email. Someone had warned her. Someone inside Prometheus knew what was happening.
But who? And why?
Her phone rang. Unknown number.
"Dr. Dergors? This is Detective Kathleen Hyatt. I'm investigating a series of murders that might connect to your research. We need to talk."
Karen almost laughed at the timing.
"Detective, I'm about to walk into what's probably a trap set by drug dealers who've threatened my family. Unless you can guarantee their safety, we have nothing to discuss."
"Drug dealers? Dr. Dergors, where are you? I can—"
"Goodbye, Detective."
---
She hung up. Gathered her materials.
Two briefcases. One with the real formula. One with the flawed version.
A decision she'd make when she saw who she was dealing with.
The sun was setting as she left Prometheus. Maybe for the last time. In her rearview mirror, the building shrank. Taking with it her dreams of scientific revolution.
But family came first.
Always.
The address led to a warehouse in the heart of Southside. As she parked, Karen wondered if she'd ever leave. If her daughter would grow up without a mother. If her work would be perverted into something that destroyed the fragile peace between humans and supernaturals.
Only one way to find out.
She picked up both briefcases.
Walked toward the warehouse.
Where shadows moved behind broken windows.
And the future of human enhancement waited in the hands of criminals.
---