𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚 | 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 (𝐎𝐂)

FOUR

Eight Years Later...

Julia, now eleven years old, has slowly become what Vought had feared: Her father.

Angry, and increasingly unstable.

The lab's sterile corridors echoed with a silence so profound it felt like a weight pressing on her chest. With Becca gone-the woman who had shown her kindness and compassion-Julia's powers began to spiral out of control.

The small, reinforced room where Julia was kept was devoid of any windows and was heavily guarded, an unsettling reflection of the labs distrust and fear. It was a dreary space, with nothing but a bed bolted to the floor and a table secured against the wall. Her only company was the constant hum of the machinery and the occasional voice of the guards outside, muffled and distant.

For years, Julia's temper had become increasingly volatile. Her strength-emerging and evolving with each passing day-seemed to react to her emotions, amplifying her anger into destructive force. The lab had no choice but to confine her to this small, windowless cell to prevent her from using her other abilities to mimic the other children's powers in the lab and to prevent any incidents. Vought had hoped isolation would temper her rage, but instead, it seemed to only fuel it.

Today was no different. Julia paced back and forth, her tiny frame a storm of restless energy. She clenched her fists, feeling the familiar tingling heat in her veins.

The door clicked, and Julia's gaze snapped to it. The soft hiss of the steel door gave way to a tall, thin woman stepping inside. A therapist. She wore the usual Vought uniform-a fitted blazer, clipboard tucked under her arm-and her heels clicked softy against the floor as she entered. Behind her, two guards stood at attention, their weapons holstered but ready. Their eyes never left Julia.

"Julia." The therapist said in a soft, practiced tone, closing the door behind her. "How are you feeling today?"

Julia glared at the woman, her brown eyes blazing with a mixture of confusion and anger. How am I feeling? The question was insulting. They had locked her away, from the others and including her best friend, and now they wanted to talk?

"Let me out." Julia said, her voice low but carrying the weight of a storm. "Let me out of here."

The therapist remained calm, her expression unreadable. "I know it's been difficult for you, but we want to help. We're concerned about how things have been going. You've shown a lot of strength, but-"

Julia's fist clenched tighter. She didn't need to hear this. Not from her. Not from any of them.

"You're afraid of me." Julia snapped, cutting the woman off. She stood, her heart pounding in her chest. Her strength-she could feel the power buzzing under her skin, ready to explode. "Let me out!"

The therapist took a small step back, the guards shifting nervously. "Julia, please. We're not afraid of you. We just need to understand how you're feeling. If you could talk to us-"

The sound hit her then, faint at first, but unmistakable. Laughter. Children's laughter. The other kids in the lab, free to roam, free to laugh. Julia's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening as the noise filled her ears. The echo of carefree joy sent a searing ache through her chest, twisting the growing storm inside her.

She felt her body lurch forward, the guards rushing to subdue her, but they were too slow. Julia's fist slammed into the wall, as it slowly crumbled under her strength. The guards were on her in an instant, trying to restrain her, but she threw them off like they were nothing.

"Let me out of here!" She screamed, her voice cracking. "Let me out!"

"Julia!" The therapist's voice was sharp now, but Julia couldn't hear her through the chaos in her mind. "Calm down! We can talk about this but you need to calm down!"

The girl lunged at the therapist, her muscles coiling with raw strength, but the guards reacted faster than before. They grabbed her arms, straining to hold her back. Julia snarled, fighting against them, her eyes wild.

The therapist stepped back, her face pale and drawn, eyes flicking to the guards as they shouted orders. Their voices were a blur of sound, blending into the chaos around her, but Julia barely registered them. All she could focus on was the tension in her body, the rage that burned hotter with each second. She wasn't done. She couldn't stop.

More Vought employees rushed in through the door-white coats, lab techs, more guards. The room felt tighter, suffocating, as they swarmed her. Julia roared, her body reacting on instinct as she flung the two guards restraining her across the room with a ferocious burst of strength. They hit the far wall with a thud, slumping to the ground as the others closed in.

For a brief moment, Julia stood in the center of the chaos, her breath ragged, her heart pounding. She was surrounded-dozens of hands reaching for her, shouts coming from every direction-and then it all stopped. The storm raging inside her stilled in an instant, her muscles going slack.

A sharp sting bit into her neck.

Her breath caught, and she blinked, confused. She reached up weakly, her fingers brushing the needle now lodged into her skin. Her vision blurred as the sedative spread through her veins.

The room quieted once more, the frantic voices fading as she sank to her knees, the cold floor pressing against her legs. Julia's hands trembled, the world around her spinning as consciousness slipped away. Her gaze landed on the door, but it was already too late. The walls closed in again, and she collapsed forward, her body going limp as everything went dark.

And somewhere in the depths of Vought's labyrinth, they were watching. Studying. Wondering if they had made a mistake.