Chapter 70: The Heir

Markus finally emerged from the lower section of the Foundation alongside Ash, Reina, and Darius.

The journey back had been quiet, with none of them particularly interested in discussing what had happened beneath the facility.

The dust still clung to their clothes, and the memory of the collapsing corridor remained fresh in their minds. Markus had barely spoken since they escaped, his attention fixed on everything the encounter with Subject 014 had revealed and the questions that remained unanswered.

When they reached the upper levels, the familiar sounds of researchers moving between departments filled the corridors.

People carried documents, discussed experiment results, and operated equipment as though the lower section had not suffered a partial collapse.

The normality of it all made Markus uncomfortable, particularly because he knew that somewhere beneath their feet, the Foundation had records detailing events that most of these people would never learn about in their entire lifetime.

Ash adjusted the tubes connected to his mask before turning toward Markus, "So, what happens now?"

Markus looked at him before glancing at Reina and Darius. He had several things he wanted to investigate, but there was one person he needed to confront before doing anything else.

"We’ll meet again later," he said. "There are things I need to figure out first."

Reina folded her arms. "You’re not planning to disappear without explaining what happened, are you?"

"I’ll explain what I can when we meet again. Right now, I have somewhere I need to urgently go."

Darius watched him carefully. "You’re going to Victor aren’t you."

Markus nodded without attempting to deny it.

Ash released a quiet breath through his mask. "Then go.... We’ll meet here later."

Reina looked toward Darius before returning her attention to Markus. "Don’t take too long. We’ve barely started figuring out what any of this means."

"I won’t." Markus continued.

Markus turned and headed toward the opposite corridor, leaving the three of them standing near the elevator.

He could hear Reina saying something to Ash behind him, but he did not turn around. His thoughts had already moved to the conversation waiting for him, and he knew that whatever Victor told him would determine what he did next.

He had spent too much time accepting explanations that answered only half his questions. This time, he intended to leave his father’s office with something more substantial than another warning about patience.

Markus reached the doors to Victor’s office and stopped.

Through the glass panels, he could see his father sitting behind his desk, reviewing documents displayed across a transparent screen. Victor appeared as composed as ever, his attention moving between the files with the same deliberate precision Markus had observed throughout his whole life.

Markus pressed the access panel, and the doors opened.

Victor did not immediately look up. "You’re early."

"We need to talk."

Victor dismissed the documents on his screen before removing his glasses and placing them beside the terminal.

He studied Markus for a moment, noticing the dust on his clothes and the new crystalline patterns that occasionally appeared beneath the skin of his right hand.

"Then talk."

Markus approached the desk and placed both hands against its surface, "What the hell is going on downstairs?"

Victor’s expression remained unchanged. "Be more specific."

"The restricted laboratories, the Mark 8 database, the subjects who were kept down there, and all those records nobody bothered to tell me about.

I found files listing hundreds of people, including Felix Ainst and Darius. Some were classified as deceased, others as adapted, and a few were listed as survivors. There were reports about my own abilities that I had never seen before, despite the fact that the Foundation has apparently been documenting everything I’ve done."

Victor listened without interrupting, allowing Markus to finish before leaning back in his chair.

"You were never supposed to go down there."

Markus stared at him. "That’s your answer?"

"It’s the truth." Victor continued.

Victor paused, studying his son for a moment before continuing, "Tell me something, Markus. Did you also release Darius?"

Markus hesitated briefly. "Yes."

"Without authorization?"

"He wasn’t a prisoner who’d done anything wrong. I wanted answers, and he was the only person who could give me some."

Victor’s fingers tapped once against the desk, "You entered a restricted section of this Foundation, accessed classified records, and released a subject who had been confined there for a reason you haven’t bothered to investigate."

Markus’s expression hardened. "You make it sound like I released a dangerous animal."

"I make it sound like you made a decision without understanding its consequences."

"Then perhaps someone should have explained those consequences to me." Markus said.

Victor regarded him silently, "Perhaps," he replied. "But you didn’t ask for permission before opening that door, did you?"

Markus said nothing.

Victor picked up his glasses and examined one of the lenses before setting them down again.

"You were never supposed to go down there. However, I knew there would come a time when you would.

You are my heir, Markus. Eventually, you were going to discover the things this Foundation has spent years protecting, and I would have to decide what you were ready to know."

Markus folded his arms. "So you were just going to let me stumble into everything myself?"

"I was going to let you demonstrate whether you were capable of finding your own way." Victor said.

"And Darius?"

Victor’s gaze sharpened slightly, "Darius is a separate matter. His confinement was not an administrative oversight, and releasing him without understanding why he was being held was reckless."

"He was listed as a survivor. The records said Mark 8 had no effect on him."

"Records tell you what was observed. They do not necessarily tell you everything that was understood."

Markus stared at his father, trying to determine whether the statement was a warning or another deliberate attempt to keep him in the dark.

Victor stood and walked toward the window overlooking the Foundation’s central atrium, "You could have asked me about Darius before you released him."

"You would have told me the truth?" Markus asked.

Victor remained facing the window for a moment, "I would have told you what you needed to know."

Markus let out a quiet breath through his nose. "That’s not the same thing."

"No," Victor replied. "It isn’t." He turned back toward his son, "But you’re beginning to understand the difference."

Markus’s jaw tightened, but he did not respond. Victor returned to his desk and folded his hands, "Now, tell me what happened downstairs."

Markus began with the encounter in the dark corridor. He described the strange movements of the metal objects, the stranger’s explanation of carbon manipulation, and the way his pale-blue hair made him feel uncomfortable.

Victor listened carefully, occasionally asking Markus to clarify a detail. When Markus explained that the stranger had managed to slow the spread of the crystallization by manipulating the material around the affected area, Victor’s attention sharpened. However, he offered no explanation for what Markus had witnessed.

"And then?" Victor asked.

"The corridor started collapsing. We found a researcher trapped beneath a support beam, and he recognized me.

He said the records I’d accessed weren’t complete and warned me that people had been watching me from the beginning."

Victor’s fingers rested motionless on the desk.

Markus continued, describing how the researcher had begged him not to leave and how he had chosen to pursue the stranger instead. By the time he finished recounting the collapse, his voice had become quieter, though his expression remained firm.

"The researcher died before they could reach him," he concluded. "I went after the stranger, and I found nothing. He escaped, the records are still incomplete, and the only person who might have known something useful is dead."

Victor remained silent for several seconds.

"Then you made a decision based on an assumption, and the outcome was unfavorable."

Markus looked at him sharply. "He died."

"Ofcource he did and it’s your fault."

"You’re talking about him like he’s another failed experiment." Markus continued.

"What would you prefer I do? Pretend that expressing regret will change what happened?" Victor said.

"I’d prefer you to act like it matters."

Victor’s eyes remained fixed on his son. For a brief moment, his gaze shifted toward the window, and his fingers pressed together more tightly than before.

When Victor spoke again, his voice was as controlled as ever, "Do you believe I have spent my life building this Foundation without understanding the cost of its work?"

"I don’t know what you understand anymore." Markus answered.

"Then perhaps you should begin by understanding this. The decisions made here are not always pleasant, and the information we possess is not always information that can be distributed freely."

"Convenient for you." Markus implied.

"Accurate is a better phrasing." Victor replied.

Markus pushed away from the desk and began pacing across the office.

He remembered the researcher’s hand gripping his wrist, the urgency in the man’s voice, and the way he had pulled away to pursue someone he believed could provide answers.

The stranger had escaped anyway, leaving Markus with nothing but the consequences of his decision.

"You knew I would eventually discover the database," Markus said. "You knew I’d find out about the survivors, and you knew I’d start asking questions about my own abilities. So what exactly were you waiting for?"

Victor watched him walk, "You were going to come down there eventually."

Markus stopped.

Victor rose from his chair and approached the window overlooking the Foundation’s central atrium. Researchers crossed the floors below, moving between departments connected by glass bridges and elevators. The facility operated with remarkable efficiency, each section serving a purpose within the larger institution Victor had spent years building.

"You are my heir, Markus," Victor continued. "Whether you understand what that means today is irrelevant. Eventually, you were going to encounter the parts of this institution that have remained beyond your reach. You were going to discover what we have studied, what we have preserved, and what we have lost in the process."

Markus looked at him. "You knew this would happen."

"I knew it was possible."

"You could have just told me."

"Yes I could have." Victor said it without hesitation, and that answer unsettled Markus more than an argument would have.

"Then why didn’t you?"

Victor turned from the window, "Because I needed to see what you would do when the answers were not handed to you."

Markus stared at him. "You were testing me?"

"I was observing you." Victor continued.

"Is there a difference?" Markus questioned.

"There is always a difference."

Victor returned to his desk and collected his glasses, "You have spent weeks learning to control your abilities.

You have made progress, although your judgment remains inconsistent. You have also begun asking questions that cannot be answered by studying your own hands."

He looked directly at Markus, "That is why you were never going to remain satisfied with the training rooms."

Markus shook his head. "You make it sound like everything I’ve done was part of some plan you already had."

"Not everything." Victor assured.

"Then tell me what is."

Victor studied his son, "You are angry because you have discovered that your understanding of Mark 8 is incomplete. You also suspect that I have known more than I have told you."

"Have you?" Markus asked.

"Yes." Victor answered.

The answer came so plainly that Markus had nothing ready to say.

Victor removed his glasses once more and set them on the desk, "But there is something you should understand about the position you occupy.

Being my heir does not mean that every door will open when you approach it. It means that, eventually, you will be responsible for deciding which doors should remain closed."

Markus looked away. He thought of Darius, who had spent an unknown amount of time confined beneath the Foundation, and the researcher whose final request he had ignored. The database had reduced hundreds of lives to classifications, while Victor spoke about decisions as though the outcome alone could determine whether they had been justified.

"What am I supposed to do with what I’ve already found?" Markus asked.

Victor watched him for a moment, "First, you should stop assuming that the information you discovered was hidden without reason."

"And if the reason is that you don’t trust me?"

"Trust is not the issue." Victor continued.

"Then what is?" Markus asked.

"Readiness." Victor answered.

Markus gave a humorless laugh. "You keep using that word as though it explains everything."

"No. It explains why I have not shown you everything."

Victor walked around the desk and stopped in front of him.

"You have seen the effects of Mark 8. You have seen what it does to the human body, and you have begun to understand the different ways people can adapt to it. But you have not seen its complete form."

Markus looked at him. "What does that mean?"

Victor studied his son’s face for several seconds before turning toward the door, "Come with me."

Markus frowned. "Where?"

"There is something I want you to see."

Victor left the office, and Markus followed him into the corridor. They entered a private elevator concealed behind a security panel near the far wall. The doors closed, and the elevator began descending.

Markus watched the floor indicators change as they passed levels he had never visited. The numbers eventually disappeared, replaced by a series of restricted symbols that meant nothing to him.

"How far down does this place go?" he asked.

"Farther than you have been."

"Is this another laboratory?" Markus asked.

"You could call it that."

Markus waited for an explanation, but Victor remained silent throughout the descent.

The elevator finally stopped, and its doors opened onto a narrow chamber with smooth walls and a single security terminal. There were no researchers, equipment carts, or signs of the constant activity Markus had encountered elsewhere in the Foundation.

Victor approached the terminal and placed his hand against its scanner. A soft tone sounded, and the wall ahead of them separated down the middle, revealing a large, dark room.

Markus stepped forward.

He expected another laboratory filled with containment units or equipment designed to study the crystalline structures associated with Mark 8. Instead, he found himself standing before a single object enclosed within a transparent containment structure.

A massive crystal occupied the center of the chamber.

Markus stopped walking....

The crystal rose from a reinforced platform, its surface composed of enormous interlocking formations that caught the dim light overhead. Its structure was unlike the small fragments he had produced or the formations that had covered his hand during training. It extended several meters above the platform, with layers of crystal intersecting at angles that made its shape difficult to comprehend at a glance.

Deep blue formations ran through its interior, and the light passing through them revealed depths that seemed to continue far beyond its outer surface. The structure appeared impossibly dense, yet its intricate formations created patterns that shifted as Markus changed his position.

He stared at it, remembering the classifications he had read in the database. He had studied the different grades, examined reports describing their properties, and spent weeks learning to control the crystalline structures developing within his own body. None of those records had prepared him for the scale of the object before him.

Markus slowly approached the containment structure.

"What is that?"

Victor stood beside him, his gaze fixed on the crystal.

"Mark 8."

Markus turned toward him. "The entire crystal?"

Victor nodded.

Markus looked back at the enormous structure, unable to reconcile what he was seeing with everything he had previously understood about the parasite. His crystallized hand began to change without conscious instruction, small formations emerging across his fingers and spreading toward his wrist.

He did not notice.

He took another step forward, his eyes following the deep blue formations buried within the crystal’s surface. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. For once, he had no accusation ready, no demand for an explanation, and no question that could make the object before him any easier to understand.

Victor remained beside him without speaking.

Markus stood before the crystal, staring at it in complete shock.