That was the organization's proprietary, military-grade barrier.
Titan-Grade Aegis Glass, engineered to withstand a direct hit from heavy artillery!
And yet, Specimen Seven had fractured it with a single barehanded strike.
"Ah!"
A technician screamed, stumbling backward and crashing to the floor, sending his datapad clattering across the tiles.
Director Kaelen's legs turned to jelly as he collapsed into an undignified heap, unable to physically stand.
The security detail aggressively raised their rifles, locking their sights onto Specimen Seven inside The Observation Theater, but their trigger fingers trembled violently.
Absolute, paralyzing terror mirrored on every face in the room.
What was happening? Hadn't the threat been neutralized? Why was Asset 07 surging again?
Kaelen stared at the glass partition, still vibrating from the catastrophic force of the impact, his mind totally short-circuiting.
A suffocating wave of despair drained the color from his face.
When he finally managed to catch his breath, he shot a panicked glare at Serena, his voice shaking. "Ms. Panacea! What is the meaning of this?"
"I thought you fixed it! Why is it attacking again?"
He was entirely convinced he was a dead man.
If Specimen Seven breached that glass now, it wouldn't just be The Sterling Sovereign who died—the entire hall would be turned into a slaughterhouse.
When the higher-ups found out, he wouldn't even get the luxury of a quick death!
Why was his luck so abysmally rotten?
Why was every conceivable disaster landing squarely on his shoulders?
Meanwhile, Nicholas-the actual target locked in the asset's crosshairs-stood immaculately composed, barely even batting an eyelash at the raging monstrosity.
He simply watched Serena with a faint smirk, casually waiting for his savior to work her magic again.
The sheer, unshakeable trust in his gaze was staggering.
It was as if he knew inherently that The Panacea could shield him from the deadliest Living Assets imaginable, time and time again.
Kaelen was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
At a time like this, The Sterling Sovereign was still trying to play the romantic!
Had the doctor slipped him some
kind of hallucinogen? How could the
buyer on the dark web
obsessed Cent
be so blindingly ob
Kaelen practically wanted to beg her for mercy.
Serena simply turned her head and offered Specimen Seven an apathetic glance.
Her expression remained totally
blank. Bathed in the fractured light scattering through the cracked Aegis Glass, het luminous features looked ethereally cold, laced with a dangerous edge.
Not a single drop of panic tainted her composure.
She strolled up to the central console, her medical case swinging lazily in her grip.
The tech leaning over the monitors didn't hesitate for a microsecond, violently scrambling out of her way.
Serena dropped her case onto the counter and rested her slender fingers over the console's keyboard.
Simultaneously, she looked up, locking eyes with the monstrosity behind the glass. Specimen Seven was already chambering its second punch.
The grotesquely overdeveloped arm pulled back, thick ropes of muscle bunching up, veins bulging under the unnatural pressure.
The entire room stopped breathing.
Kaelen shut his eyes tightly.
No one believed the shattered barrier would hold against another catastrophic strike.
The guards tightened their grips on their triggers.
The second Specimen Seven breached containment.
They would have to open fire, regardless of the millions of dollars in damages.
Just as the monstrous fist hurtled toward the glass for the final blow.
The corner of Serena's mouth quirked upward in a lightning-fast, wicked smirk.
Her fingers danced across the console.
With a swift flick, she scraped
an
invisible microchip off the surface the desk seamlessly slotting.
it
beneath her striking ac
nail.
of
Then, she locked eyes with Specimen Seven through the fractured glass and issued
a singular, lethal command. "Submit."