GEMINI VENUS's Arc

Chapter 6 of 9

Halfway through the scan, an alarm cut the lab in half. Gemini Venus left Aries strapped to the chair and pulled up the containment feed. The creature stood in the center of its cell, holding a red mask it had built from its own shed plates. Black flame shapes streaked across the glossy surface. Two curved horns rose from the sides. The mask was singing — a thin, steady frequency pushing through the walls. Gemini Venus grabbed the handheld transmitter from the shelf and tuned it to the creature's band. Lights bloomed across the device in tight hexagonal rings. The screen filled with replies. Something far outside the facility was answering — a winged shape rendered in cyan and violet static, perched over a bank of old monitors. Each ping from the mask pulled a longer response back. The creature was not broadcasting into the dark. It was having a conversation. Gemini Venus had one clean choice. They could cut the signal by shattering the mask, or they could let it keep talking and learn what was on the other end. Their hand hovered over the kill switch. Aries stirred in the chair behind them, neural map still streaming. The data was already the cleanest fracture pattern they had ever captured. They did not need the mask alive to finish his scan. They needed it dead to keep the work hidden. They triggered the containment pulse. The feed showed the mask crack down the middle and go dark. The handheld went silent — except for one last reply from the winged receiver, a single coordinate string burned into the log before the channel closed. Gemini Venus saved the file and sealed it. The creature was quiet again, but someone outside now knew the lab existed.