Chapter 6 - The Man in the Blanket
Julian froze in the center of the vast, dimly lit library, his grip tightening instinctively around Lily’s small hand. The old man in the wheelchair looked frail, his skin pale and translucent under the amber reading lamp, yet his dark eyes held a sharp, piercing intelligence that mirrored Julian’s own.
“Grandfather?” Julian breathed out, the word tasting foreign and impossible on his tongue.
“Everyone said you died in the fire at the Swiss chalet twenty-five years ago. Your funeral was broadcast worldwide.”
The old man, Arthur Vance, let out a dry, rattling cough, waving a thin, blue-veined hand dismissively at the air.
“Funerals are wonderful public relations tools, Julian,” Arthur rasped, adjusting the plastic oxygen tubing beneath his nose.
“They allow powerful men to quietly retire from public scrutiny while the machinery of empire keeps turning in the dark. Come closer. Don't hide behind the bookshelves like a frightened boy.”
Lily pressed herself tightly against Julian’s leg, her blue inhaler clutched in her small fist.
“He smells like the bad medicine room,” Lily whispered softly, her voice trembling.
“He’s the one who gave the order.”
Julian’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at the child, then back up at the patriarch of the Vance dynasty. The realization hit him like a physical blow. The underground west wing, the engineered respiratory anomalies, the corporate cover-ups—it all traced back to the man sitting before them.
“You did this,” Julian said, his voice laced with venom and profound betrayal.
“You experimented on my brother, and when that failed, you started on the next generation. You locked a little girl in a concrete box just to preserve a bloodline of invalids.”
Arthur Vance tilted his head, a faint, melancholic smile touching his thin lips.
“Preservation, Julian, requires sacrifice. The Vance respiratory syndrome isn't a disease; it’s an evolutionary adaptation to the atmospheric collapse we knew was coming decades ago. Your brother was simply... imperfect. But Lily?” The old man’s eyes locked onto the blonde girl with unsettling intensity.
“Lily is the first successful integration.”
Clara stepped forward, her face flushed with rage, still gripping the gold-plated letter opener like a dagger.
“She’s a human being, you psychotic monster! She’s not an experiment or an asset. She’s a child who deserves to see the sun!”
Arthur chuckled, a sound that quickly dissolved into another hacking cough. He reached out and tapped a black remote control resting on the mahogany desk.
“The sun is overrated, my dear,” Arthur muttered.
Suddenly, all the heavy iron shutters across the library’s tall stained-glass windows slammed shut simultaneously, plunging the room into absolute darkness save for the amber desk lamp.
“Marcus,” Arthur called out smoothly as the heavy library doors clicked shut and locked from the outside.
May you like
“Cut the primary power. It’s time for Julian to see what happens when the prototype is removed from containment.”
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