Dune xix's Arc

Chapter 6 of 7

Dune's tentacles coiled tight against their skull. The restraints in the cell, the water tubes feeding through the glass—it all matched. Same metal brackets. Same constant flow designed to keep the curse active, to keep the changes permanent. They stepped closer to the open cell and saw the metallic earpiece hooked onto one of the restraints. Small ports lined its inner curve, designed to inject data directly into the wearer. Dune had worn one just like it. The feds had catalogued everything—how long the transformation took, which parts hurt most, how many days before the subject stopped screaming. The earpiece had recorded it all while Dune thrashed against chains that sparked with enough voltage to lock their muscles. Above each cell hung a beacon with wire coils that twisted like serpents, each one pulsing to push sound waves through the water and amplify the curse's hold. Dune pulled the earpiece free and crushed it in their fist. The metal crumpled with a satisfying crunch. They'd spent weeks in a cell like this, fed saltwater through tubes while researchers watched from behind glass. The feds had studied them like a specimen, waiting to see if the curse could be reversed or weaponized. It couldn't. But Dune had survived, and when the facility went dark during some bureaucratic shuffle, they'd walked out through an unsealed door. Now they owned the place that had caged them. Dune pocketed the squid chip and sealed the cell. The woman upstairs wasn't the only one the feds wanted back. These cells had held dozens of cursed people, and the feds would come looking eventually. But Dune knew every weakness in this system now—which locks failed first, which cells had blind spots, how long the water pumps took to restart. The marketplace would need those details. Not to run, but to fight back when the hunters returned.