Halie Collins was the youngest daughter of the Collins Family, a family of biotech magnates who lived far above the chaos of the lower rings. She was born into wealth, security, and prestige—but not immunity. At ten, strange symptoms began to plague her: phantom pain, spasms, bleeding from her orfices, eyes that flickered gold under stress. Her condition was quietly diagnosed by off-the-record specialists as a result of exposure to the T:04 virus—a gene-forged sickness believed to be myth among the elite.
But it wasn't a myth.
She was taken in broad daylight during a family outing—along with five other children who shared the same affliction—by agents of the Blackwater company. Without public trace or ransom, Halie was erased from the world and delivered to the ORPHANAGE's hidden research center.
From that day forward, Halie lived her life in a pod. Suspended in artificial fluid, wired into observation systems, her body was subjected to endless trials. She was only let out for two things: to be tested—or to train. Years passed this way. Her muscles grew lean, her mind sharpened under pressure, and her senses adapted to inhuman thresholds. Of the six children taken, she alone survived. The researchers called her a biological miracle. To Halie, they were tormentors in white coats.
They named her "Prime Specimen." They called her lucky.
The facility fell into chaos the day the sky broke open. A radiant vortex—the arrival of the Oracles—split the atmosphere, and monsters poured through. The ORPHANAGE scrambled to protect their data and specimens. In a desperate move, they released Halie from stasis and ordered her to defend the facility.
She did.
She tore the invaders apart in a blur of light and blood—but when the last one fell, she didn't stop. Every researcher who had overseen her suffering, every scientist who turned a blind eye, was eliminated. Not in rage. Not in madness. With quiet, clinical precision.
In the blood-soaked silence that followed, Halie underwent her Trial—the system's judgment. And it changed her.
Ability – "Refraction Step"
She can bend light around her body, flickering in and out of sight. This allowed her to dodge attacks with uncanny timing.
Now empowered and unbound for the first time in eight years, Halie roamed the broken facility, only half-stable, paranoid and high-strung from years of confinement. So when she encountered Toni and Frieda—Jarad's crew—she didn't ask questions. She attacked, thinking they were part of a cleanup crew.
What followed was a blur of light, motion, and instinct—until Jarad and Leon arrived.
With overwhelming strength and calm, they subdued her. She fought like a phantom, but she was still disoriented. Tense minutes passed, weapons drawn, words cautious. But instead of execution or imprisonment, they listened.
For the first time since she was taken, someone treated her like a person—not a specimen.
And for the first time in years, Halie didn't feel alone.
---
The steam curled like ghosts in the dimly lit room.
Frieda sank deeper into the water, eyes half-closed, skin prickling from the heat. Beside her, Maya leaned back against the porcelain edge of the tub, a rare moment of stillness on her usually tight features. Evie, shoulders bare and relaxed for the first time in what felt like days, let herself drift.
There was silence, save for the occasional drip of water or the low hum of the damaged facility's power reserves humming through the walls. The bath had been scavenged from a ruined med-bay. Scorched tile. One flickering light above. Hardly paradise.
But after the chaos of infiltration and near-death, it felt like heaven.
Then—
A sound.
Subtle. Soft. Barely more than a whisper. A rustle, like cloth brushing against metal.
Frieda's eyes snapped open.
Instinct.
She surged up, water cascading off her like a wave. Her hand darted to the cloth tossed nearby—within its folds, a blade waited. Cold. Familiar. She was wrapped and armed before her breath could mist the air again.
Maya was next—grabbing her towel and a sharp piece of surgical steel she'd been using to clean beneath her nails. Evie scrambled, one hand on her robe, the other fumbling for the rusted pipe she saw stashed behind the basin.
They stood, robes clinging to damp skin. Weapons in hand. Hearts beating like war drums.
Silence.
But not peace.
Something had changed in the room. Something wrong. Like the air had turned too heavy. Like they were already being watched.
Maya moved first, drifting toward the table covered in scorched documents and stray research logs. Her fingers, wet and trembling, peeled back a half-burned file.
"Girls," she murmured. "This… this is an experiment. One I wasn't told about."
Frieda stepped closer, blade reversed in her grip. "Must be major if even you didn't get the memo."
Maya's eyes scanned the page. "Strength output—triple Jarad's baseline. Neuro-sync levels... perfect. No signs of decay. Whoever she is... she's something new."
Evie edged toward them, eyes flicking to the shadows.
"She's not just stronger," Maya whispered. "She's—refined. Precise. More advanced than anything the ORPHANAGE has put into the field."
Frieda didn't smirk. Her voice was low. Measured.
"That kind of power... if she's hostile, we put her down. Fast."
"Or," Maya countered, "she helps us. We just need to find her before she decides we're the enemy."
Evie pointed toward a notation on one of the files. Coordinates. A marker.
Maya followed the lead—steps slow—until her hands reached for a tarp near the far corner of another room. She pulled it away with a slow breath.
A pod.
Seven feet tall. Cylindrical. Coated in dried fluid and frost residue.
It was open.
And empty.
"Move!" Frieda shouted.
A blur of silver.
Daggers erupted from the ceiling like fangs. One slammed into the wall near Maya's face. Another skimmed Evie's shoulder as she twisted out of the way.
The figure landed behind them in a flicker of bent light, clothes shifting as her bare feet hit the tile without sound.
Refraction Step.
Frieda lunged, blade sweeping low. Too slow. The girl was already gone—sliding across the wall like a broken reflection.
Evie raised her pipe, eyes wild. "We're not here to hurt you!"
"You shouldn't be here." The girl's voice cracked. Young. Hollow. It echoed as though her words were split across a dozen flickering versions of herself.
Light shimmered around her again. Her form rippled, then vanished.
"Left!" Maya cried.
Frieda pivoted and slammed her shoulder into the spot where air twisted unnaturally. She hit something—briefly. The figure gasped.
But she phased, slipping through Frieda's grasp like water, reappearing behind them near the pod. Her hand raised, another blade already drawn.
Evie stepped forward. "Wait. Please—we're not with the doctors. We're trying to destroy this place!"
The girl hesitated.
---
"Hey bro, we've been walking for a while now and we still ain't seen the girls, one would wonder where they ran off to" In desperation Leon rang out.
"Calm down big boy, were gonna find them okay? The facility ain't too big that we won't be able to find three girls" Tapping Leon's shoulder to reassure him Jarad said.
"Yeah, you may be right-" Leon's word were cut short by a feminine shout they hadn't heard before.
"You shouldn't be here, nobody else is supposed to be here" the owner of the voice seemed to be screaming.
Jarad and Leon exchanged a glance and ran in the direction of where the noise was coming from.
Then Jarad arrived and Leon followed right behind him.
The wall behind Halie caved inward, warped by gravitational pressure. Jarad stepped through the collapsing steel door him and Leon smashed through to get to the girls, his new suit of black liquid armor glistened with light. His eyes landed on the flickering girl like iron finding a blade.
Leon appeared a moment later, slower, quieter, but just as dangerous.
The girl turned—reflexive, sharp—but Jarad was already there.
One step. One strike.
A pressure wave snapped through the room, warping the air. Her flicker ability activated, but he'd predicted it.
He caught her by the wrist, and for the first time—she didn't vanish.
A null-field crackled to life around her body. She fought—fast, vicious, erratic—but his grip never loosened.
Her voice cracked.
"Don't put me back in the pod."
She wasn't snarling anymore.
She was begging.
Jarad's voice was low. Absolute.
"You're not going back."
The girl stared at him. Trembling.
And then—
She collapsed to her knees.
Not in defeat.
But as if the air had finally let her breathe.
"You okay Jarad?" Leon asked after a few moments of pure silence to which Jarad replied him positively with a nod.