Voss's silver eyes, sharp and burning, locked onto hers. His voice, low and lethal:
"Then let's do it."
No hesitation. No second-guessing.
Leah's heart slammed against her ribs. Her body tensed—instinct screaming—but her voice, tight and cold, cut through the pounding rush:
"You're sure."
His gaze—pure icefire—didn't flinch.
"You're the one who said not to stop too soon."
A beat—just a breath—and then Leah's voice, tight and clipped:
"Fine. Then get in."
Voss was already moving—coat discarded, sleeves rolled, muscles taut beneath the black fabric. The scanner's glass chamber hissed open beside hers—another pod, sleek and cold. He stepped in without a flicker of doubt.
His voice, sharp and precise: "Parameters."
Leah's hands flew over the console, her voice crisp and quick:
"No suppressors. Direct transfer. I'll hold the line—" her throat worked, "—you hold through the break."
Voss's lips curled into something sharp, humorless. "You're the one who likes giving pointers."
Her voice dropped, cold and flat:
"Then here's one more—Don't lose consciousness."
His eyes flashed, something dangerous sparking beneath the silver. "Won't."
The connection initialized with a low hum, soft and almost deceptive. The needle ports extended from the side panels—sleek, surgical.
Voss's voice, low and sardonic, from his pod: "For something lethal, it's a quiet start."
Leah's eyes, burning and sharp, flicked to him.
"It's not the start that kills you."
Her hand hit the final command.
"It's the fall."
The system struck.
The needles pierced skin—both hers and his—slick and immediate, feeding blood, gene markers, and raw power into the exchange.
And then—
The BURN.
Leah's body arched, every cell igniting from the inside—
Heat—white-hot—consumed her—veins on fire, nerves screaming, her pulse—wild, erratic—
Her jaw locked, teeth grinding against the pure agony boiling through her body.
Through the haze—
A sound.
A ragged snarl—deep, raw—
Voss.
His body bowed, muscles cording under his skin—
A violent snap through his frame—fingers clawing into the restraints—
And then—
The rejection.
Both their bodies rebelled, cells colliding, gene markers grinding, tearing, trying to annihilate the other—
A storm behind her ribs—her heart slamming— too fast—
The console's alarms screamed—
INSTABILITY ALERT—
HEART RATE CRITICAL—
SYSTEM OVERLOAD—
Leah's vision—white. Her veins—lava.
The urge—to pull out, to STOP—
But her own words—
"Don't stop."
Her body—breaking—
But her mind—
HOLD.
Her lips—cracked and bloody—split with a snarl:
"VOSS—"
His *eyes—*wild, silver-bleeding to black—
His breath—ragged, animal—
"DON'T—" her voice, a shattered scream:
"—RUN."
His body—convulsed—
The burn— inside him—
But—
He didn't.
His voice— a raw, guttural snarl—
"NOT—"
"—GIVING—"
"IN."
Then—
THE SNAP.
The agony—hit—
And then—
It BROKE.
The heat—
The pain—
Flipped.
Her veins—cold.
His—hot.
Their systems—collided—
Then—
LOCKED.
The console—
ALERT:
RECALIBRATION IN PROGRESS—
GENETIC STABILIZATION: 65%— 72%— 89%—
Leah's body—shaking, but—whole.
Her heart—slowing, steady—
Her veins—no longer fire— but steel.
And Voss—
His breath—ragged, but his body—holding.
No collapse.
No failure.
The screen flashed:
COMPATIBILITY RECALIBRATED: 91.04%
The connection—
STABILIZED.
The hum of the lab dulled to a low thrum, the alarms falling silent one by one. The harsh green of the monitors softened, and the sterile air hung thick with the sharp tang of blood and ozone.
The pods hissed open.
Leah's body collapsed forward, her knees hitting the cold floor with a crack. Her breath—ragged, raw—scraped through her throat. Sweat slicked her skin, and her fingertips burned from where her nails had torn into her palms.
But she was alive.
Her heart—steady. Her veins—cold steel instead of fire. The phantom ache of the break still echoed beneath her ribs, but—she was still here.
Her eyes—blurry, burning—dragged upward.
Voss.
His pod opened in a slow, mechanical hiss. His body sagged forward slightly, his palms braced hard on the edges, white-knuckled.
His chest heaved, each breath raw and jagged. Veins still dark under his skin, his frame taut from the aftershock.
But he was—standing.
No collapse.
No failure.
Alive.
Leah's lips cracked as she rasped, her voice shredded:
"Told you—" her breath broke, but her eyes burned into his— "It's just—" a swallow, raw, "—blood."
Voss's head lifted—slowly, silver eyes meeting hers—still dark at the edges, but cold. Sharp. Alive.
He moved. Not fast—heavy, deliberate. His boots hit the floor with a slow, steady rhythm, the tremor of his breath the only sound in the room.
And then he was in front of her—
Towering.
Heat. Weight. Alpha.
His voice—low, rough, burning from the inside out:
"That—" a slow inhale, sharp through his teeth, "—was the worst idea I've ever had."
Leah's lips—cracked, bloodied—twitched.
"Yeah." Her voice scraped through her throat. "Welcome to my life."
A breath—
And then—
Voss laughed.
It was low, rough, and raw, more like a growl cracking in his chest. Short. Sharp. Dark.
His eyes—still burning—pinned her. "You—" he bit out, voice still raw, "—are out of your mind."
Leah—
Grinned.
Sharp. Bloodied. Bruised.
"Yeah." Her voice rasped, "But you—" her eyes, fierce and burning, "—are still here."
Voss's gaze—cold and hot, silver and wildfire—searched hers. No pretense. No games.
Then—his voice—soft, lethal, absolute:
"91%."
Her chest hitched. The number branded itself in the space between them.
Her voice, a whisper: "You're—"
"Compatible," he finished, his voice a low burn. "With you."
The air—thick with the aftershock, raw and primal, electric and dangerous.
And Voss—
His head tilted slightly, his silver eyes—knowing, dangerous, something wild at the edges—
"You tricked me into living," his voice—dark and amused. "I'm impressed."
Leah's breath—shallow, her body wrecked—
But her eyes—sharp. Defiant. Unyielding.
"Someone's gotta keep you alive."
Voss straightened fully, the tension in his frame shifting—still taut, but with a different weight. His silver eyes, sharp and dissecting, pinned Leah where she knelt, every flicker of her expression filed and analyzed.
His voice came, low and cutting, stripped down to command:
"Everything." His chest heaved once, but his tone was cool, absolute. "You've had your turn. Now—" his eyes burned, "—I need to make a plan."
Leah's throat, raw and cracked, worked once. Her body felt shattered, her muscles still twitching from the aftershock of the exchange. But the heat in his eyes—focused, ruthless, and very much alive—ignited something steady in her chest.
She wiped blood from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, her lips curling faintly.
"Thought you'd never ask."
Voss's eyes narrowed slightly. "Then start talking."
Leah dragged herself to her feet, her body screaming, but she stood. Her palms braced against the cold edge of the console, her breath still rough. "You want everything? Fine. You'll get it. But let's start with the part that kills you."
His gaze—unblinking, relentless. "Go."
Her voice sharpened, the old edges of survival cutting through:
"The Ark 1 through 10 launches? You'll never make it." Her eyes burned. "You don't get on them. You never even try."
His jaw shifted slightly, but he didn't interrupt.
"Ark 1—" Leah's voice was cold, tight, "—is gone before it clears orbit. Sabotage. Internal." Her voice cracked on the word. "They'll never catch who did it."
Voss's eyes glinted, cold and calculating. "Motive?"
Her voice, bitter: "Same as always. Power." She didn't blink. "Too many elites. Someone decided to start trimming the competition early."
His voice stayed cold. "The rest?"
Her throat worked. "Ark 2 makes it. Ark 4 makes it." Her voice, flat and ironed clean of emotion: "But they're locked. Private factions. Entire ships reserved for their people. No one outside gets in. Not even you."
Voss's voice, soft and lethal: "And Ark 3?"
Leah's fingers curled against the console. "Ark 3 was supposed to survive. But the Alphas—" she stopped, her throat tight, "—they died. Before Year Three started." Her voice dropped, bitter and cold. "They were the backbone of the ship. When they collapsed, everything fell with them. The leadership. Security. Structure." Her eyes, dark and shadowed, lifted to his. "That's when the killing started."
Voss's voice was ice, but the fire underneath was blistering: "Why did they collapse?"
Her breath came shallow, her voice cold and cutting:
"Their bodies degraded. Gene instability. Their mods turned on them. No treatment, no warning—" her throat worked, "—they burned out."
Voss's eyes stayed on her, but his voice came—soft, dissecting: "You're lying. There was no instability in the Alpha trials."
Leah's gaze didn't waver.
"Then they lied to you."
The air between them cracked with it—raw and sharp.
Leah pressed on, her voice tight: "The survivors on Ark 3 tore each other apart. And by Year 8—" her throat burned, but her voice stayed cold, "—the food was gone. The guards hoarded what was left. The rest of us—" her voice cracked briefly, "—starved."
Her hand pressed against her ribs—phantom pain—and she whispered, "I died in the riots."
The cold that rolled off Voss was absolute. His voice, flat and dissecting:
"And then?"
Her chest heaved once, her eyes burning with something raw. "Then—" her voice was tight, "—I woke up. Here." Her jaw set. "Thirty days before the world ends."
The silence hung—thick, weighted, full of raw edges.
Then—Voss's voice, clipped, precise:
"How long until Ark 1 fails?"
Her answer—immediate, cold, and burning with certainty:
"Seventeen days."
His silver eyes—calculating fury. "The auction for Ark 0?"
Her jaw clenched. "Four days."
His voice, cutting through her breath: "And the trigger event?"
Leah's throat worked, her voice flat and bitter: "The Tectonic Stabilizer. It fails in twenty-three days. The world starts breaking apart. By Day 30—"
Her lips pressed into a thin line, her voice soft, final, and cold:
"Nothing's left."
The console's soft hum seemed too loud in the razor-wire silence.
Voss's eyes—cold silver, burning from beneath the ice—fixed her. His voice, clipped and surgical:
"Casualties?"
Leah's voice—stripped bare:
"Ninety percent."
His body—still. But the tension—fracturing the air—
And then—his voice, soft, precise, and cutting through the bone:
"Survivors."
Her eyes—burning:
"Ten percent—on the ships. And maybe—" her lips, thin, "—a few rats. But Earth's gone."
The air compressed, sharp and lethal, and his voice—low, flat, and absolute:
"No. Not yet."
His jaw—tight, his breath—even, but cold and burning:
"We need Ark 0."
Leah's lips pressed. "Exactly."
Voss's eyes—silver razors—cut through her:
"And you're sure it's real."
Her voice, sharp, iron-edged:
"It's real. It's the only one with a full biosphere. Independent systems. Small crew. And—" her voice clipped, "—it launches first."
A flicker of something cold and sharp passed through his eyes. "So that's why you came to me."
Her voice stayed flat and iron-edged: "You're the only one who can win it."
A beat. And then—
Voss's voice—soft and cutting:
"And what about your buddy?"
Leah froze.
The air—thin, her chest—tight.
"What." Her voice was flat.
Voss's eyes narrowed, sharp and knowing:
"The one who opened the door for you. Who cracked into Phoenix Tower's security—" his voice dropped slightly, dangerous, "—who's been in your ear this whole time."
His voice—soft, but laced with iron:
"Tell me about your friend."
Leah's pulse hit hard. Her throat worked once, but her eyes—steeled.
Her voice—tight and sharp:
"Her name's Ava Lyn."
Voss's eyes flickered. "Background?"
Leah's chin lifted slightly, her voice even:
"She's a Beta. Tech genius. Hacker. Systems expert. And—" her voice dropped, "—she's the reason I'm standing here."
Voss's head tilted slightly, his eyes—searching, cold and calculating: "And what's her play?"
Leah's lips pressed. "Her play—" she said, her voice low and edged, "—is getting us on that ship."
Voss's eyes stayed sharp, dissecting.
"Loyal?"
Her voice, flat and cold:
"To me."
A pulse of silence—
And then—
Voss's lips, a cold line, his voice—soft, lethal:
"Then bring her in."
Leah's eyes narrowed: "You want to meet her?"
Voss's voice—smooth as a blade:
"No." His silver eyes, sharp and merciless:
"I want to see if she can keep up."