Endri had been patient. Years of confinement beneath this quiet, unassuming house had taught her patience, even as the sterile walls pressed in around her. She had bided her time, waiting for the right moment, and now, it had finally arrived.

Dr. Ames was gone. His mind, fragile from years of proximity to her miasma, had cracked. He’d tried to protect himself, to protect his daughter, but even his last desperate act couldn’t stop what she had already set in motion. His sacrifice had only brought her closer to freedom—and to her.

The daughter was different. Endri had seen it in the memories she’d gleaned from Dr. Ames’s fractured mind. She felt it in the way the young woman's presence brushed against her awareness, untouched by the madness that consumed others. She wasn’t like the scientists or guards who had underestimated her, breaking one by one under her influence. No, she was something else entirely.

Her Paria.

Now, as the daughter slept, Endri’s touch crept into her dreams, shaping them with care. The nightmares were vivid—flashes of her voice, her presence, the faint scent of something dark and ancient. Through these feverish visions, she whispered to her, planting the path she would walk. And walk she did.

Endri felt it the moment she rose from her bed, her movements slow and deliberate, her mind caught in the haze of Endri's influence. She guided her step by step through the quiet house and down toward the basement door. It opened easily, almost too easily, the air shifting as she descended into the basement. Then, to the door usually hidden behind a shelf—haphazardly knocked over and thrown out of the way in Dr. Ames's frantic escape.

Endri guided her through the metal doors into the hidden sector—carefully past the corpses in the hallway and into the lab.

The sterile chill of the facility greeted her, the hum of dormant machinery filling the space. It was here that she stirred, the last remnants of sleep clinging to her as reality began to reassert itself. She wasn’t in her bedroom anymore.

Endri waited, her luminous eyes fixed on her from within her containment cell. Her presence was palpable, the room heavy with the weight of her existence.

"You're here," she murmured, her voice low, lilting, as if the words themselves were drawing her closer. "I’ve been waiting for you."

Her tone wasn’t threatening—it was soft, almost tender, if not a bit husky. The way her eyes lingered on her wasn’t predatory but full of something deeper, something only she could understand. She didn’t need to frighten her. She had already brought her this far, and soon, she would understand why.