Page 31 of Dissection of Immortal Hearts
“Is it right for the reptilians to vanish? Antambazi’s resources are limited.”
Kathrine couldn’t help a twinge of excitement at the prospect of finally understanding the Queen’s plans. Until now, all she knew was that the Queen was working on something to aid their race’s adaptation to earthly conditions. Perhaps a means of enhancing their regeneration? So they wouldn’t need to cripple the abilities of other species, but instead could match theirresilience?
Petrov and his son edged forward with pale faces. Gone were the General’s swagger, as well as Vesel’s smug expression. Only an hour ago, he’d believed his father’s wealth and influence could tame even the devil. The devil, perhaps. But not the Queen.
Despite the pain Kathrine felt over the Chosen’s murder, she had to admit the Queen had played the situation with mastery.
“One day, you’ll see that it was all worth it, my love.”
But what would she stumble upon in the laboratory? Kathrine clung to the hope that it would bring salvation for the reptilians – and her. Confirmation that better days lay ahead, with less violence.
The Queen stopped before a heavy metal door and turned to Petrov. “You doubt the ability of reptilians to subjugate the other species?”
Petrov’s face was grave. “It’s hard not to doubt when your race is physically weaker and has shorter lives, even under the new conditions for other species.”
“I see…” The Queen tapped the door’s control panel.
Kathrine couldn’t spot the unlocking mechanism, but the door slid open, revealing a vast room. The Queen walked in first, followed by the humans. Something brushed Kathrine’s arm, and she realised with surprise it was Sevar’s fingers.
“One day, you’ll see that it was all worth it, my love.”
She nodded, as if to let him know she understood. And she did – because she’d heard him say the same words years before.
Together, they entered a hall filled with an unnatural, oppressive silence, interrupted only by the amplified sound of a heartbeat on a medical monitor.
A chill crept down Kathrine’s spine. Her gaze locked onto the single bed in the room. On it lay…
By the heavens!
“What the hell is that?!” the General exclaimed.
The Queen pivoted, holding up a finger to her lips. “Shhh… You don’t want to wake her.”
Silence fell as everyone stared at the figure on the bed. It appeared female, judging by the prominent curves beneath the hospital gown. Kathrine sought Sevar’s confirmation, but he was just as stunned. The younger Petrov, however, studied the strange being with open enthusiasm.
“I present to you the new immortal species – a harpy! Stronger, faster, and more ruthless than any other species.” The Queen approached the bed, stroking the creature’s forehead. “But there’s a slight problem. She regenerates like a human.”
***
Amelia
Back in her room, Amelia couldn’t shake the image of the sketches in the Queen’s notebook. Just thinking about them made her skin crawl. They felt vile – unclean, corrupt, steeped in something she didn’t want to touch.
The warning in Gea’s letter echoed in her mind: ‘Dark energy. I cannot see its outlines, but I feel its essence. There is something wrong with it, even perverse.’
A chill gripped her, as if she’d stepped into an icy, invisible current. Something vast was unfolding. She could feel it in her bones.
She sat on the bed and closed her eyes, forcing herself to take slow, deliberate breaths. Her heart pounded, fuelled by the fear that somehow, those sketches might be connected to Mikhail.
As she pictured the drawings once more, a buzzing filled her ears – a mechanical hum. The edges of the room dissolved into hazy black lines, merging into an impenetrable darkness.
Amelia rose, though she couldn’t see anything around her.This wasn’t a vision – not the kind she was used to, which was always accompanied by a white mist. Before her now, shadows danced. And that strange hum…
Her breath escaped in a sharp rush, her chest aflame. Something tight constricted her ribs, her skin burning beneath it. She tried to claw at her chest, desperate to free herself. But her hands were bound behind her back, immobilised.
“No!” she whimpered.
She’d been mistaken – thiswasa vision, but seen through the eyes of someone whose sight had been blocked. Before she could escape the pull of the foreign perception, she found herself thrust into another scene.
