SSS-Rank Corporate Predator System

The choice hung in the air, a shimmering, perfect poison.

Leo stared at the device in the scientist's hand.

The cure.

It was everything he had ever wanted, a ghost he had chased through a lifetime of self-deprecating jokes and the quiet, gnawing fear that he would never be enough.

He could be whole.

He could be strong.

He could finally, finally stop being the broken toy.

"Oh, this is awkward," Miles thought, his mind a frantic, buzzing hive of activity.

He was still trying to break Gideon out of his trance, the old man's eyes a million miles away, lost in some private, burning hell.

"Okay, so, on the one hand, a cure," his internal monologue whispered, a dry, panicked commentary on the unfolding disaster.

"On the other hand, a betrayal of everyone you've ever cared about."

"This feels like a pretty classic 'deal with the devil' scenario."

"I really hope Leo hasn't been skipping the 'moral philosophy' part of his education."

"I'm pretty sure 'don't sell your friends to an evil scientist for a magical brain upgrade' is, like, lesson one."

The scientist, the woman with the kind, reassuring face and the cold, dead eyes of a shark, just smiled.

"It's a simple transaction, Leo," she said, her voice a soft, seductive melody.

"Your friends for your future."

"A future where you are not a liability."

"A future where you are not a sidekick."

She took a small, deliberate step closer, holding the cure out like a holy relic.

"A future where you are the hero of your own story."

The words were a scalpel, perfectly aimed, cutting right to the heart of his deepest, most secret insecurities.

He was the sidekick.

He was the comic relief.

The lanky, funny kid with the broken system who tagged along with the chosen one and the secret ninja princess.

He looked over at the chaos on the other side of the room.

He saw Miles, a whirlwind of black and silver, his face a mask of furious concentration as he tried to protect a man who was not his father.

He saw Clara, a blur of focused, analytical grace, her every movement a calculated, efficient piece of a larger, brilliant strategy.

They were heroes.

What was he?

He was the guy who made jokes.

He was the guy who got captured.

The scientist's smile widened, sensing his hesitation.

"They don't need you, Leo," she whispered, her voice a sweet, poisonous honey in his ear.

"They have power."

"They have purpose."

"What do you have?"

"A collection of cheap gadgets and a system that is more likely to electrocute you than it is to save you."

"Join us."

"And we will give you the power you deserve."

Leo looked at her, at the clean, white perfection of the cure.

He could feel it.

The pull of it.

The promise of a life without the constant, humming fear of his own system backfiring.

A life where he wasn't the weakest link.

A life where he wasn't a burden.

His hand started to lift, his fingers trembling slightly.

It would be so easy.

Just one word.

Just one nod.

And all of this could be over.

He could be fixed.

Then, he saw her.

Clara.

She was in the middle of the fight, her back to him, but he could see the tension in her shoulders.

She was fighting, not just for Miles, not just for herself, but for him.

She was his sister.

Not by blood.

By something deeper.

By shared loss.

By a bond forged in the fires of a tragedy he had never spoken of.

He remembered her, a small, fierce girl with old, sad eyes, standing beside him in the smoking ruins of their home.

He remembered her holding his hand, her grip the only solid thing in a world that had just been burned to the ground.

She had never let him go.

She had never left him behind.

She had never once, not for a single second, made him feel like he was broken.

The scientist's voice was a distant, buzzing sound now, a meaningless distraction.

All he could see was his sister, fighting for him.

The hesitation in his hand vanished.

The tremor stopped.

His fingers curled, not into a gesture of acceptance, but into a tight, white knuckled fist.

He finally looked at the scientist, at her kind, smiling, monstrous face.

And he made his choice.

"She's my sister," he snarled, the words a low, venomous sound that was all the more shocking for its quiet intensity.

The scientist's smile faltered, a flicker of genuine surprise in her cold eyes.

"And you," Leo continued, his voice dropping to a whisper, a promise of pure, unadulterated, and deeply personal violence.

"Are going to regret ever messing with my family."

He lunged.

He didn't have a plan.

He didn't have a weapon.

He just had a sudden, glorious, and deeply satisfying burst of pure, reckless rage.

He rejected the offer.

He chose his family.

He chose his loyalty.

He chose himself.

He slammed his body into the scientist, a desperate, clumsy, and surprisingly effective tackle.

She stumbled backward, a surprised gasp escaping her lips, the precious, priceless cure flying from her hand to shatter into a million useless pieces on the hard, white floor.

"No!" she shrieked, her polite, academic mask shattering, revealing the furious, possessive monster beneath.

Leo didn't give her a chance to recover.

He drove his fist into her face, a messy, unprofessional, and deeply gratifying crunch of bone and cartilage.

It was the best punch of his life.

His decision came at a cost.

The scientist, in a final, desperate act of spite, slammed her hand down on a large, red button on a nearby console.

A klaxon began to blare, a high pitched scream that echoed through the entire facility.

Red lights began to flash, painting the white walls in bloody, pulsing strokes.

"Security breach in Sector Gamma!" a cold, digital voice announced from hidden speakers. "All units, converge!"

The entire facility was on high alert.

They were trapped.

The illusion around Gideon shattered, the scientist's concentration broken by the fist in her face.

Gideon stumbled, his eyes wide, his breath coming in ragged gasps, the ghosts of his past finally releasing their grip.

He saw the flashing lights.

He heard the alarms.

He saw Leo, standing over the unconscious form of the scientist, his knuckles bloody, a look of grim, triumphant satisfaction on his face.

He saw his daughter, her face a mixture of pride and terror.

He saw Miles, his eyes burning with a new, fierce, and deeply protective light.

He saw a team.

His team.

And they were in the heart of the lion's den, and the lion had just woken up.

Heavy, metal blast doors began to slam shut all around them, the sound a series of final, echoing thunderclaps that sealed them in.

They were cut off.

Surrounded.

Outnumbered.

"Well," Leo said, his voice a shaky, adrenaline-fueled whisper.

"That could have gone better."

He looked at his bloody knuckles, then at the unconscious scientist on the floor.

A slow, tired, and completely genuine smile spread across his face.

"But I'm not sure how."