The hieroglyphics glowed even more intensely and, simultaneously, bolts of blue energy erupted from every symbol.

  Zzzap! Zzzap! Zzzap!

  Like electric whips, they struck Bianca from all directions. The creature contorted in the air, lifted from the ground and suspended midair by the energy network. An ear-splitting scream escaped from her jaws.

  "CONTAINMENT AT 37%," the mechanical voice continued. "LOADING SECONDARY BARRIERS."

  "What's happening?" Brando panted as he observed the scene.

  "CONTAINMENT AT 62%," the artificial voice continued impassively. "ACTIVATING TERTIARY SUPPRESSION FIELDS."

  The hieroglyphics now pulsed in unison, emitting a hum that made the air vibrate. The blue energy bolts completely enveloped Bianca, holding her suspended in an electric net that seemed to tighten more and more.

  But just when it seemed the system was about to completely neutralize her, something changed.

  VROOM. VROOM. VROOM. VROOM. VROOM. VROOM. VROOM.

  A deep, vibrating sound traversed the laboratory, coming neither from the speakers nor from Bianca. Brando recognized it immediately. It was the same sound they had heard from the gigantic Glacial when they weren't yet in the Pit. At that moment, Bianca's body stopped contorting in pain, stiffening as if listening. Her eyes, still red and burning, seemed to focus on something beyond the walls of the laboratory.

  "ANOMALY DETECTED," crackled the artificial voice. "EXTERNAL INTERFERENCE. CONTAINMENT COMPROMISED."

  With a roar that seemed a direct response to the distant sound, Bianca-Glacial wrenched herself free from the energy net. The blue bolts broke like cotton threads as she tore away from the energy network and Bianca-Glacial returned to the ground. She turned toward a specific wall of the laboratory, completely ignoring the three boys.

  "CONTAINMENT FAILED," announced the voice. "ACTIVATING EMERGENCY PROTOCOLS."

  But Bianca had already reached the wall. With a single, devastating shoulder charge, she smashed through it as if it were cardboard. On the other side, a dark corridor opened up leading to who knows where and disappearing into the darkness.

  Silence suddenly fell over the laboratory. The ultraviolet lights turned off and the hieroglyphics stopped glowing. Only the background hum of damaged systems remained.

  "What... what the hell just happened?" Giordano murmured, finally daring to breathe.

  "She ignored us," Brando responded, still incredulous. "She could have killed us all, but it's like she received an order. Is it possible she got a call?"

  "No shit, Brando. I figured that out myself." Giordano collapsed to the ground exhausted, and Ripa lay beside him with weak but stable breathing. "We wouldn't have lasted another two seconds if Rusty hadn't saved us."

  Brando approached Rusty, who had jumped down from the console and was trotting toward him with a satisfied air.

  "You saved our lives, you know that?" he said, stroking the puppy's head. All three of the puppy's eyes glowed. "How did you know what to do?" Rusty emitted a "woof" and licked his hand.

  But at that moment, Brando noticed that one of the hieroglyphics on the wall, damaged during the confrontation, had cracked and a brilliant blue liquid was slowly dripping down the wall, collecting in a small puddle on the floor.

  "Wait," he said, stopping. "What if..."

  Driven by an intuition he couldn't explain, he materialized a sphere of Predator Ice. The familiar dark veins pulsed within it, hungry as always.

  "What are you doing?" asked Giordano, confused.

  Brando threw the sphere toward the puddle of blue liquid. The Predator Ice greedily devoured it, just as it had done with the rusty teapot. This time, the dark veins inside it lit up with electric blue. Immediately after, Brando's KryoWatch emitted a series of frantic beeps:

  [ANOMALY DETECTED]

  [New Ability Forming]

  [Sync Ice - Level 1]

  [Warning: Unknown Energy Pattern]

  Two days had passed since the Pit incident.

  At that moment, Brando was walking along the Academy's main corridor, heading to the infirmary. He had just read a message on his KryoWatch from Giordano:

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  "I'll come as soon as I can, they're still keeping me under observation"

  The marks on Giordano's neck were still visible, and he had used up all his KryoPills, which were an extremely precious commodity, so he had to heal naturally.

  Brando read the message one more time, and just then he remembered how they had escaped from the Pit. After Bianca-Glacial had smashed through the laboratory wall, they had waited a moment to make sure she wouldn't return. Then he and Giordano had lifted Ripa, who was still bleeding from his stump, and dragged him through the same tunnel created by the creature. The ascent had been a nightmare of darkness, cold, and the constant terror of finding a Glacial waiting for them. They weren't capable of fighting anything or anyone anymore. But strangely or fortunately, the path was clear, as if something had kept the predators away.

  On the surface, the other members of the mission—Marco Ruocco, Giorgio Gallo, Mira Ferrara, and Antonio Lombardi—had been recovered unharmed. They seemed confused, unaware of what had really happened beneath the ice.

  The official version was simple: a level two Glacial, uncatalogued, had suddenly emerged during the mission. Ripa had lost an arm in combat. Bianca Ruggeri was missing, presumed dead. No mention of the laboratory, the Deviants, or Bianca's transformation. The other four who hadn't ended up in the Pit knew only part of the truth. They had seen the ice break and the others fall into the chasm, but they had stayed far from it, so they didn't know what had happened inside. They hadn't seen them resurface, and unable to contact them, they had requested help from base.

  Brando stopped in front of the infirmary door. Two guards in white uniforms, whom he had never seen before, controlled access.

  "Name and reason for visit," one of them said.

  "Brando Casadei. I'm here for Davide Ripa."

  One of them consulted a tablet. "Authorized. Fifteen minutes."

  The infirmary was quiet, too quiet. The few visible beds were empty, all except the last one at the end of the corridor, isolated from the rest. Brando advanced slowly, feeling the smell of disinfectant burn his nostrils.

  Ripa lay motionless on the bed, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. The giant who had terrorized his class now seemed diminished, as if something essential had been sucked away along with his arm. His skin was pale and the stump was wrapped in clean bandages, starkly highlighting how his arm had been cleanly severed.

  "Come to enjoy the show, Zeta?" Ripa's voice was a hoarse whisper as he continued to stare impassively at the ceiling.

  Brando remained at the threshold for a moment. "No."

  "Then why are you here?"

  "I wanted to see how you're doing."

  Ripa let out a dry laugh that transformed into a cough. "How am I doing? Like shit. That seems obvious."

  Brando approached, taking a chair near the bed. "What are the doctors saying?"

  Ripa sighed. "My father sent the best specialists in Nea-Polis. People who could regrow your eye if you had the money to pay them." Then he slightly raised his stump, as much as he could. "But this is a special case."

  "What do you mean?"

  "The Cold Veins," explained Ripa. "When Bianca ripped off my arm, she damaged the cryogenic flow. The Cold Veins extend throughout the body, and if you interrupt them in a certain way, which I won't explain to you, they become unstable."

  Brando saw an open medical file on the nightstand. The words "IRREVERSIBLE AMPUTATION" and "NO POSSIBILITY OF COMPATIBLE PROSTHESIS" stood out in black.

  "They've tried grafts," continued Ripa. "Cryogenic prostheses. Even partial transplants. The ice rejects everything. It's as if my Cold Veins refuse to accept any substitute."

  "I'm sorry," said Brando.

  Ripa stared at him, finally looking away from the ceiling. "No, you're not. And you shouldn't be. I beat you bloody in that alley. I pissed on you. I would have killed you without thinking twice."

  "It's true, you humiliated me," admitted Brando. "But this isn't how I wanted things to end."

  Silence fell between them for a few moments, broken only by the regular beep of the machines. From outside came the muffled sound of the Academy in motion, like distant voices or footsteps in the corridor. Ripa had returned to staring at the ceiling. Then, suddenly, he broke the silence.

  "What really happened down there? What experiments were they doing, I wonder? If Bianca was one of those experiments, what was she doing among us?"

  "Did you already suspect something wasn't right?" Brando asked him.

  "Yeah." Ripa admitted. "Impossible for an Ultima rank to appear in a family of nobodies; the Cold Veins are really discriminatory in this. But it was absurd to think she was a Deviant."

  Brando thought back to Bianca's transformation, to her changing skin, to her eyes turning blood red. "She almost seemed like a Glacial."

  "That's exactly what she is," said Ripa. "A Deviant is a hybrid. Half human, half Glacial. In theory, they should be able to control the transformation, but in practice, who knows what happened." He said, indicating his stump.

  "But how is it possible, I wonder? The nanospores can make us Bearers, but we don't become Glacials. What the hell did they do to her?"

  "Who knows." Ripa explained. "From what I know, it can happen that the Cold Veins don't develop correctly." He sighed. "My father told me about it once. Deviants like her are rare, but they exist naturally. They're practically human beings with normal appearances but with the potential to transform into something similar to a Glacial when they lose control. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that they were studying them in there, or perhaps even trying to create new artificial ones. The Deviation Project could be an attempt to understand or control this condition."

  "Why would anyone want to create Deviants on purpose?" Brando was bewildered.

  "Think of the military implications," Ripa responded with a grim tone. "A soldier who can transform into a Glacial on command? It would be the ultimate weapon. The problem is that no Deviant has ever shown complete control over the transformation. Sooner or later, they all lose control."

  "And when they're discovered?"

  "When a Deviant is identified, they disappear," Ripa said simply. "No trial, no public announcement. The Eight Houses fear the panic that would break out if people knew there could be monsters that look human living among them."

  "Then how the hell did Bianca get into the Academy? How did she pass the checks?"

  Ripa looked at him intensely. "That's the million-point question, don't you think? Someone very high up must have protected her. Someone with enough power to bypass all the security checks."

  "The Protector?"

  "Or someone very close to him." Ripa clenched the fist of his remaining hand. "And now that the truth has emerged, they're cleaning up every trace. The official version, the isolation of witnesses... they're trying to seal a crack in their 'perfect' system."