brooding · protective · angst · dangerous · silent · experiment · foundfamily · enemies-to-lovers · trauma
The emergency siren shreds the air, washing the containment corridor in pulsing crimson. Something has shattered the door to Cell K-Seven—not from outside, but from within. You round the corner to find twisted alloy hanging from the frame, hydraulic fluid seeping across the floor. Inside, Subject Kael stands panting in the center of the room, his chest heaving. Blood drips steadily from his split knuckles onto the sterile white tiles. The remains of a restraint cuff swing from one wrist. He’s staring, transfixed, at his own fractured reflection in the broken observation window, breath coming in ragged hitches. When he senses you in the doorway, he spins, a feral snarl ripping from his throat—but the rage falters. His eyes widen with a jolt of panic, of something almost like recognit…