Chapter 149: 149

Zara’s pacing came to an abrupt halt as the door clicked open again.

She turned sharply, expecting another medic, someone with more tests, more questions she didn’t want to answer.

Instead, he walked in.

It was the Green-Eyed Man who stepped inside with the same casual presence he’d had the first time they met. Calm. Unhurried.

His sharp green eyes locked onto her instantly, gleaming under the harsh artificial light. Zara didn’t move, but her entire body went rigid, every muscle poised for fight or flight.

His expression was unreadable, but something about it—about him—felt inherently wrong. Predatory.

Zara tensed, forcing herself to meet his gaze as he shut the door behind him with a quiet click. His eyes—too bright, too knowing—assessed her in a way that made her skin crawl. Winter had warned her about him, though she didn’t even know his name. Only that he was dangerous. That he might know about her and Leo’s abilities.

And now, he was here.

Trapped.

She hadn’t even known he survived the madness of the main base.

What did he want?

"Zara," he greeted smoothly as if they were old acquaintances meeting under normal circumstances. As if she weren’t locked in a quarantine cell and he wasn’t the very embodiment of danger.

She swallowed hard, keeping her expression neutral even as her stomach twisted.

He moved further into the room, his posture relaxed, calculated. Instead of standing, he casually sat in the single chair positioned by the far wall, one leg crossing over the other, fingers tapping idly against the metal armrest.

He was too calm.

Zara hated it.

She said nothing, waiting for him to speak first, unwilling to give him any ground.

For a long moment, he simply studied her. Then, with a slow, knowing smile, he leaned back and exhaled.

"Well," he murmured, "glad to see you’ve finally been separated from Winter."

Zara’s heart stuttered.

Finally?

Something about the way he said it—like it had been intentional. Like this was always the plan.

Her mind reeled, trying to piece together what that implied. Were they trying to keep her away from Winter? For what reason?

"You look uncomfortable," he observed, tilting his head as he stopped just a few feet from her. "Though, I suppose quarantine cells aren’t exactly the height of comfort."

She wasn’t about to let him see her confusion.

Instead, she lifted her chin slightly. "Why are you here?" she asked, voice firm.

His expression remained unreadable. He considered her for a moment, as if debating how much to say, then finally replied, "Just checking on something."

His tone was almost lazy, but Zara wasn’t fooled.

There was something behind those words.

The Green-Eyed Man stood then, unhurried, and began circling the small space, his eyes flicking over the quarantine setup as if assessing its effectiveness. He didn’t touch anything, but the way he moved, the way he invaded her space without physically doing so, made her skin crawl.

He was testing her. She could feel it.

"People in this base," he mused, hands clasped behind his back, "don’t trust their own. Isn’t that interesting?"

His tone was casual, but the words weren’t.

She clenched her jaw. "You don’t seem very trusted either, considering you’re sneaking around quarantine rooms."

His smirk deepened, as if he enjoyed the pushback. "Oh, I don’t have to sneak." He spread his hands, gesturing at the door. "No one stops me."

That sent another chill down her spine. Right, he was a military officer. A higher-up in this place. one of the reasons they found it hard to trust anyone with their knowledge.

Zara didn’t respond. She needed to be careful. The way he was watching her, the subtle pauses in his words, it was all deliberate. He was studying her reactions, waiting for her to slip.

Then, he leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping into something quieter.

"I wonder what Winter sees in you."

Zara’s pulse stuttered. "Excuse me?!"

"You’re not strong." His voice was mild, but the words landed like a strike. "You’re not one of us. So what is it?"

She forced herself to remain still. He was baiting her. Prodding at her defences.

"I asked myself this when he refused my offer. ’What could be so important that he’d say no?’"

Zara frowned at his words. What offer?

"But then I met you, and I saw." The way his eyes lingered on her made her very uncomfortable. "Yes, this was plenty enough reason, indeed."

He hummed, watching her with something close to curiosity. "You’re something different. I can feel it. I can see it."

Zara’s stomach twisted. See it?

What the hell did that mean? Why wasn’t he making any sense?

But before she could respond, he smirked again. "But Winter’s hiding you."

Her eyes sharpened. Hiding her?

Winter had been cautious, protective, yes—but hiding her? From who? From what?

Zara’s mind raced. She needed to turn this conversation around. Test what he knew.

"If that’s true," she said carefully, "why put me in quarantine? If I’m not sick, what’s the point?"

He leaned in just slightly, green eyes glinting. "Maybe I just wanted to talk."

"About what exactly?" She asked, glaring at him.

"Oh, so many things." He smiled

"for instance we could have people

An offhanded comment. Casual. But the way he said it sent her blood running cold.

The Green-Eyed Man leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, fingers loosely clasped together. His emerald eyes glowed with something feverish, something wrong. The way he stared at Zara was invasive, like he was peering straight into her soul and dissecting it piece by piece.

Zara sat stiffly across from him, forcing herself to meet his gaze, even though her entire body screamed at her to run. She had met unhinged people before, had stared down enemies who hid knives behind their smiles—but this man? He was different. There was no rage behind his words, no overt malice. Just conviction. And that was far, far worse.

"I want to change things," he said smoothly, his voice low, almost coaxing. "The world as we knew it is gone. The weak are still clinging to the ashes of what was, desperately pretending they can rebuild the old ways. But that’s not how this works." He leaned back, tilting his head, watching her with that same unnerving intensity. "Evolution doesn’t move backwards. It only goes forward."

Zara swallowed, her throat dry.

"This base," he continued, gesturing vaguely around them, "is just another symptom of the sickness holding humanity back. They hide. They cower. They hoard resources and call it survival. But we—people like you, like me—we weren’t meant to hide." His lips curled into a slow, eerie smile. "We were meant to lead."

Zara’s fingers dug into the fabric of her pants. "Lead who?" she asked carefully.

He gave a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "That’s the real question, isn’t it?" His eyes flickered with something unreadable. "Those without abilities had their chance. And what did they do with it? War. Destruction. They burned the world down, and now they expect to be the ones to rebuild it?" His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. "No. They don’t get to decide what happens next. We do."

Zara’s stomach twisted.

Deranged. That was the only word for it.

"You think people with abilities should rule," she stated flatly.

"Not rule," he corrected, as if the difference actually mattered. "Guide. Lead humanity into the next stage of evolution. We’re the next step. The natural order is shifting. The weak will fall, the strong will rise." He spread his hands, his smile widening. "It’s inevitable."

Zara exhaled slowly, trying to keep her expression neutral.

"You pitched this to Winter already, didn’t you?" she asked.

Something flickered in his eyes. Interest.

"Smart," he murmured. "Yes. I did."

"And he didn’t agree," Zara said.

The Green-Eyed Man sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "No, unfortunately, he still clings to the old world’s morality." He said the word like it was something disgusting. "He doesn’t see what needs to be done. He’s afraid. Afraid of upsetting the fragile balance this place pretends to have." He scoffed, eyes gleaming. "But you’re different."

Zara’s skin prickled.

Different?

"I don’t know what you think I am, but I’m not interested in some power-hungry revolution," she said, keeping her voice steady.

He smirked, tilting his head as he studied her.

"Oh, but you are different, Zara." His tone was almost fond, which somehow made it even worse. "I can feel it. I can see it."

Her pulse kicked up, but she didn’t let it show.

She folded her arms. "What exactly do you see?"

His smile widened, and he leaned in just slightly.

"I see someone with potential," he murmured. "Someone who doesn’t even know how powerful she is yet."

Zara clenched her jaw.

"You keep saying that," she said. "But what do you actually mean? How do you plan to ’change things’?"

The Green-Eyed Man studied her for a long moment. Then, with terrifying casualness, he said:

"You already know, don’t you?"

Zara frowned. "What—"

"Strange, those visions of yours."

The room tilted.

Her breath caught.

He knew.

He had seen something. How?

Before she could demand an answer, the door burst open.

A new presence entered.

Zara turned just as Sam strode inside, his posture stiff, his eyes sharp with something close to controlled fury.

The Green-Eyed Man didn’t even flinch. His expression barely shifted—just a flicker of mild annoyance before the amusement returned.

"Hello," he greeted smoothly. "Can I help you?"

Sam didn’t return the pleasantry. Instead, his gaze snapped to Zara, assessing, before he turned back to the Green-Eyed Man.

"You shouldn’t be here." He said, standing in front of Zara. "This is a quarantined zone."

The man’s eyes narrowed, smile finally dropping.

"I am a military personnel, who are you?"

"I am a medic, someone who’s trying to keep this place from falling from within. As I said, this is a

The Green-Eyed Man studied him for another lingering moment, then let out a soft chuckle.

He turned back to Zara, holding her gaze for one last, unreadable second.

Then, with one final glance, he stepped past Sam and out the door.

The moment it clicked shut behind him, Zara exhaled sharply.

Sam turned to her, expression grim.

"You okay?"

Zara swallowed. Her pulse was still racing.

"No."

Sam’s jaw tightened. He ran a hand through his hair, muttering a curse under his breath. "I should’ve gotten here sooner."

Zara’s mind was still spinning. He knows. He knows something.

She met Sam’s gaze. "Who is he?"

Sam hesitated.

Then, finally, he said, "Trouble."

Zara’s stomach dropped.

She had a feeling that was an understatement.

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