The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven novel Chapter 191

Chapter 191: The Underground Lab II

(Third Person).

The hum of the ventilation system droned through Section Nine, a low, steady whisper above the darker sounds: the occasional groan from a cell, the metallic rasp of chains shifting, the drip... drip... drip... of unseen leaks.

In the central corridor, under the flickering glow of overhead lights, two senior researchers stood, their clipboards pressed to their chests.

Their coats were clean this morning, but under the crisp linen, the weight of months of failure hung around them like a funeral shroud.

"Numbers are dropping too fast," murmured the taller one, Dr. Halvors, voice rough from too many late nights. "We’ve lost four in the last cycle — organ failure before the second phase."

"And now the Mayor has forbidden fresh captures without approval," added his colleague, Dr. Nera, fingers tightening around her pen until the knuckles blanched.

Halvors let out a dry, humourless chuckle. "Approval, we will never get. Brackham wants results but keeps our leash short."

Nera turned, her gaze sweeping toward the reinforced doors that hid the tanks. "We still have the hybrids," she offered, though her tone lacked conviction.

"The hybrids are unstable," Halvors snapped, quieter this time, but sharp. "They die. They always die. We need living wolves to refine the serum."

His eyes drifted to the corridor leading to the holding cells.

"Which means," he continued, "we start making choices."

They walked slowly toward the cells, the echo of their footsteps sharp against stone.

"Which ones?" Nera asked, almost softly.

Halvors flipped open his clipboard. "The older ones. The ones who resist the worst."

Nera’s lips pressed into a thin line. "They will fight. They always fight."

"Then sedate them harder," Halvors replied, unblinking. "They can’t help us if they die fighting. But if they live long enough for tissue samples, marrow draws, and neural mapping—"

He trailed off, and they both knew what he meant: then maybe, just maybe, the hybrid program would produce something stable. Something marketable.

They stopped before Cell 12 once again.

Inside, the young male who had attacked the doctor earlier lay curled on the cold floor. His breath was ragged, shoulders trembling from exhaustion, but his eyes... his eyes still burned with defiance.

"He nearly clawed my assistant’s face off," Halvors muttered, scanning his notes.

Nera studied the prisoner. "He’s strong. Rage like that can damage organs we need intact."

"We don’t have the luxury to wait," Halvors countered. "And it’s not as if he’ll get gentler with time."

He tapped the clipboard, voice flat. "Put him on tomorrow’s list."

Nera’s mouth tightened, but she nodded.

They moved on, peering through barred windows into the other cells. Two captives lay almost motionless, chests barely rising. Another — an older female — sat hunched in the corner, golden eyes dull but not empty.

Halvors raised an eyebrow. "And her?"

Nera hesitated. "She’s quieter. Might survive longer."

"Which makes her more useful. Not tomorrow — but soon," Halvors decided. He made a mark beside her number. "Use the loudest first."

Behind them, one of the junior lab assistants, a boy who couldn’t have been older than twenty-two, lingered with a tray of vials.

His face was pale, eyes fixed on the caged wolves. Sweat trickled from his hairline.

"Problem, Levik?" Halvors asked without turning.

Levik swallowed. "N-no, doctor."

Genetic Bridge: Lupine-Human Prototype (HB-7) 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

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