"I already know this is a bad idea," Aegon muttered as he crouched beside the entrance.

"We..." Eli gestured round the room, "are not going down there. We have no reason to."

"Aegon, he's right," Cara concurred. "We came for the laptop, and in just a few minutes we'll have what we came for."

Quinn folded her arms. "And what are the chances that something even better is down there?"

Like clockwork, all their eyes fell back onto Aegon, the reluctant leader and the north star of problems.

But Aegon redirected; he pointed a finger at Mira, quiet in the corner as she stared at them. "Mira, what do you think we do?"

They all glanced over their shoulders; they had seemingly forgotten that there was another person in the room.

"I think we should find out what's going on," Mira finally said.

"Cara, do you have eyes down there?" Aegon asked.

"I don't have eyes anywhere." She sat back down in the chair. "The power's out, and unfortunately the cameras work on electricity."

Quinn answered, "But there's power in there—"

"It's an underground base." Cara didn't let her finish. "I'm pretty sure it's gonna be a lot harder to get into than security cameras."

Aegon pushed a hand between them before things could go any further. "How long do you need to get into the system?"

Cara raised a hand to her chin before responding. "About ten minutes."

"We don't have that long," Eli pointed out. "The school's supposed to open in three days, which means this place could be crawling with officials at any minute."

"He's right." Aegon waited a bit. "How 'bout we go down while you're still trying to get into the system," his eyes shifting between them all. "So that way we can save time, and you can still get into the system."

There was no answer.

"Alright." Aegon took the first step down the staircase, hesitant but moving. The others followed close behind him, leaving Cara at the top.

The corridor that followed the stairs was white—so white it echoed emptiness. The lights weren't hung above but were somehow fixed within the walls.

A taste of dread crawled like bile up their throats and lingered like a bad aftertaste in the back of their mouths. But they kept moving.

Finally reaching the end of the corridor that split into two opposite passages.

They stopped and looked between themselves, unsure of where to go.

"How 'bout we split up?" Eli suggested.

"Alright, who with whom?" Quinn answered.

Aegon replied almost immediately, "Me and Mira. You and Eli."

His directness made them pause for a second before they continued. They nodded lightly in response as they went in opposite directions.

Aegon and Mira continued in silence down the hall for about a minute before they heard Cara's voice from the speakers.

[ Guys, I finally got into the speakers, but I'm gonna need a minute to get into the cameras. ]

They turned the corner to a single door at the end of the hall. As white as the walls and as plain as they come.

Aegon grabbed the handle, pushed the doors open.

Inside was much like the other rooms, except for the rhythmic beeping of the EKG beside a hyperbaric chamber—almost coffin-like.

He inched closer and closer towards the hatch to see who was floating within.

The face came into view—the short beard, the brown hair that was slowly greying at the sides, and that face; it was unmistakably Extraordinary.

Even with the tubes that were connected into his nostrils and mouth, and how he was floating in some kind of viscous liquid—it was definitely the leader of the Vanguard.

Aegon froze; he dragged his hair back with his hands, trying to remember if he missed the detail where Nightwalker ripped out his heart.

He placed his hands on the incubator, trying to confirm if his heart was still there. Just a mesh of scarred skin remained.

"Why would they even keep him here?" he muttered under his breath.

Mira was still standing by the door but eventually started to walk up to him. Her voice tiny. "Wh- what's in there?"

He rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. Way too much was going on to keep up the charades.

"Haa!" He let out a low chuckle, his hands firm against the chamber. He didn't even turn back to her. "Could you drop the act for one second?"

She froze for a second, then took a cautious step back, trying to force the innocence back into her voice. "What are you talking about?"

He finally turned back to her. "You know I caught you on the phone during Claire's party." He moved a step closer. "I have no idea who you were on the phone with, but it sure as hell didn't sound so innocent."

She scurried back until her back hit the wall. She glanced once at the wall before locking eyes with Aegon. "I- I don't know what you're talking about, but you're scaring me, Aegon."

His eyes widened to a cartoonish amount, his mouth hung open in disbelief before his mind snapped back. "Is that really your plan, to ride this wave to the end? What's your endgame here?"

He took another step closer until shadow swallowed her, close enough for him to feel her body heat. "Were you the one who ordered the attack on the school?!"

Her eyes were doe and tear-filled, her lower lip quivered slightly, but she held his gaze, thinking he'd soften.

But he didn't. Aegon knew what he'd seen, so he wasn't backing down without answers.

Her face froze. She downcast her gaze for a second. "And just like that you think you have the upper hand?"

Her tone startled him a bit. He'd known, but just hearing the change in tone—from the child-innocent girl to now this voice that practically oozed disdain—was shocking.

"Did you orchestrate the attack?" he said dryly.

Mira slowly lifted her face back to him. The tears were gone like they'd evaporated with her pretence. "But you gotta admit, I played a hell of a good part."

His upper lip twitched. He slammed his palm against the wall inches away from her head. "Answer the question."

She didn't quail under his stare. She sighed. "It'd been a lot easier if you just played dumb."

She moved quickly, pushing him back in one swift motion until his back was against the chamber, and something else—something cold—was pressed against his crotch.

His eyes slowly trailed down, as if scared to check, then he saw it.

A dagger made from ice—yet as sharp as a butcher's blade—pressed so hard against him he could feel the cold ooze from the ice.

He swallowed hard; trying not to make any sudden movements, he lifted his eyes back to her. "It's my birthday?"

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