Subdue-X

A Burden

I was woken by the sound of pacing and hushed, intense whispers. The bedroom door was cracked open slightly, allowing me to hear fragments of a conversation. He must have come to bed only to have another visitor at this ungodly hour. I glanced at my phone. It was 3:40 a.m and a creeping anxiety stirred within me. Silently, I got out of bed, slipping closer to the door while staying hidden behind the thick black curtain covering the glass walls. The chill in the air reminded me of how much had changed. Christian had turned down the heat to cut costs, a sign of how tight things were becoming. We’d been cutting back on so much lately.

I peeked through the curtain. Pin stood by the entrance, drenched from the downpour outside. The rainstorm had been unrelenting, and even the short walk from the car to the building left him soaked. His lab coat clung to him, dripping onto the floor as his eyes focused on Chris, who was standing stiffly with arms crossed, visibly irritated. Pin’s expression was unreadable, his calm demeanor making the situation feel even more dangerous.

“We have to evacuate her,” Pin said, his voice sharp but eerily calm, as though he was discussing a minor inconvenience rather than an urgent threat.

Chris was tense, fists clenched at his sides. “Where, Pin? Where is safer than here? Nowhere out there is better.”

“They know she’s in the city. You can’t keep her hidden forever.”

“Then we keep her in the building.”

Pin’s brow furrowed slightly, and his voice grew colder. “And what happens when they breach this place? You think you can fend them off? You’re clinging to this illusion of control, Christian, but you need to stop grasping for the reins that have never been in your hands—and never will be.”

Christian’s jaw tightened, a muscle twitching at the side of his face. “I don’t need to hear this right now.”

“Well, you’re going to,” Pin replied bluntly. He stepped further into the room, peeling off his soaked lab coat and squeezing the excess water, draping it over the back of a chair. “Grey’s intention of taking over the procedure is getting closer. You know what that means.”

Chris’s eyes flickered with anger, but he said nothing, his silence filled with frustration.

“He’s going to make it his own. The drug, the research—it’ll all belong to him soon. We’re running out of time,” Pin continued, his voice cold and calculating. “If I’m going to use it—if we’re going to see if it can be salvaged—now is the only opportunity. You need to let me finish this.”

Chris’s response was immediate, his voice low but seething with barely controlled fury. “I don’t want her going through that again. Not after last time.”

Pin sighed, his irritation barely masked. “You don’t have a choice. Neither of us do. This procedure—it’s not just about her anymore. It’s about the future of the entire program. Grey will weaponize it, strip it of any ethical considerations—if you let him take control, there’ll be nothing left but a tool for destruction.”

“I don’t care about your program. I care about her.” Chris’s words were sharp, cutting through the air with a dangerous edge.

Pin’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You think that changes anything? Do you really believe you can stop what’s coming by pretending it doesn’t exist?” His voice was ice-cold, each word a calculated strike. “She’s part of this, whether you like it or not. If we don’t do this now, if we don’t prepare her—then Grey will. And when he does, you won’t have a say in what happens next.”

Chris shook his head, visibly struggling to maintain his composure. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of his desk, trying to steady himself. “There has to be another way.”