Victor's blue eyes snapped open, his heart jackhammering away in his ribcage.

Breathing heavily, he whipped his head around to see the frantic pulsing of the alarm connected to his computer set up in the corner of his bedroom. Sweat trickled down his warm skin as he carefully climbed out of the sheets.

With his brows furrowed and his lips pulled into a tight sneer, he made his way over to the array of screens ahead of him. He pressed a button on his broken keyboard. One of the screens hummed to life, presenting a grainy image of the security cameras he had posted around his quarters.

The security system wasn't supposed to be going off. There was no reason for it to be.

No one knew he was here—except for Bella. But Bella was still sleeping in their bed, oblivious to whatever was happening outside.

For the past year, he had been running from Atlas. Sometime during his exile, he met Bella. In fact, she had saved him.

Had it not been for her, he would've been captured by Atlas and thrown in The Vault for the rest of his miserable life. Had it not been for her, he would have ended it before they got the chance to.

She made the shame, loneliness, and pain he carried on his shoulders a little more bearable.

Apart from his late mother, she was the only person who saw him for who he was and not as the monster everyone portrayed him to be. He wasn't Apex—the ex-bioterrorist who helped ruin the world. He wasn't Victor Shaw—the prodigal son of Pearce Shaw, the Director of Atlas.

To her, he was still the little boy who loved the beach and the sunsets along the coast of California.

She saw him for him. She accepted all of his flaws. She loved him.

When they decided to run off together, hopping from state to state and motel to motel, he vowed to keep her safe. No matter the cost. His jaw clenched as he redirected his attention back to the fuzzy security cam footage on the desk near his bed.

The camera that set off his alarm was the one stationed out front. Squinting, he spotted someone in a dark blue Atlas hoodie with their hands in their pockets standing on his doorstep. A white van was parked on the dirt road behind them.

Victor blanched. The blood in his veins turned to ice.

How did they find us?

His fingers flew across his keyboard as he initiated the lockdown protocol on the house—which was really just a glorified shack one earthquake away from sliding into the Pacific Ocean. But it was cheap; and the previous owner was a conspiracy theorist—hence the lockdown protocol.

It was also in the same town he grew up in.

As the doors began to lock themselves and the metal shudders guarded the windows, Victor heard Bella stirring in the bed.

He paid her no mind, as his eyes were still glued to the security cam footage.

Atlas shouldn't have been able to find them there. They had been laying low for months, living the shadows and keeping their exposure to the outside world as limited as possible. Not paper trails, no internet presence. They didn't even have cable TV in the house. The only time he left his shack and the secluded area it was built in was to get groceries and supplies.

How had they found him?

Exhaling slowly, he urged himself to calm down. Getting worked up would only make things worse. If things popped off, he needed to have a clear head. He had to keep Bella and himself safe.

He peered at the camera footage again. The person outside jumped back, startled.

"What's going on?" Bella slurred from behind him. "Are we under attack?"

"Shh," he ordered, his eyes never leaving the display screen.

The stranger stared directly at the camera. Seconds later, they dropped their hood.

Victor froze.

His first thought was to grab the red sword hidden beneath his bed. He could've teleported outside and delivered a quick strike to the man outside. Alas, he knew it wouldn't work. Blades were useless against the skin of the Sentinel.

Victor's eyebrows scrunched together as he studied the blond's face on the screen.

Why did they send him?

It didn't make any sense. Surely Atlas would've sent a larger party to bring him in. He immediately searched the footage for more vehicles hiding but couldn't find any. He shook his head.

Something was off.

"Victor?" Chase's voice crackled through a speaker mounted in the corner. "I know you're in there."

"Who is that, Victor?" Bella whispered.

He pressed his finger against his lips.

"I just want to talk," Chase continued.

Victor narrowed his stare at the blond. His golden hair had grown out a bit from the last time he saw him and the beginnings of a beard were visible on his jaw. Bags hung beneath his eyes. His shoulder's, once high and proud, were weighed down with defeat.

"C'mon, man, just open the door."

Victor turned to Bella. She immediately shook her head at him.

She was right. He shouldn't open the door.

But he was going to anyway.

Something was off here. And he was determined to figure out what it was. Deep down, he had a feeling Chase wasn't sent by Atlas. By the looks of things, they probably didn't even know their golden boy was even there.

He cursed.

"I'll be right back. You know what to do if things go left."

"What? Victor, don't—"

He didn't get to hear her finish, as he had already teleported outside.

The air was cold against his clammy skin. A fleeting sensation of motion sickness assaulted his body. He hadn't jumped in a few weeks. Grimacing, he was forced to hold onto the chipped banister to his right for support.

Teleporting without eating breakfast was never a good idea.

Once he had regained his wits, Victor straightened his posture and glared at the tall boy ahead of him. The two of them eyed each other silently, neither of them daring to break the tension filling the air around them.

The black-haired Prime took a glance at the van. He could see a few people inside. They all were peering back at him.

He sneered.

Victor lifted an eyebrow at Chase.

"What're you doing here?"

"I owe your old man a favor."

He crossed his arms, his jaw clenched. "What are you talking about?"

"Look, I know you've got a ton of questions or whatever," Chase began, "but we need to get going. Atlas won't be far behind. I don't want to be around when they eventually close us down.

"What?"

"Get your stuff and let's go."

Victor blinked once. Then twice.

"I need you to tell me what the hell is going on. Right now."

Chase sighed and ran a hand through his golden locks. "Let's just say you're not the only one Atlas is looking for."

He studied the blond. A thousand questions swam through his brain like schools of spooked fish. What the hell had happened at Atlas during the past year?

He still couldn't believe he was face-to-face with a man he once considered his enemy. The two of them had almost killed each other multiple times. He was half expecting Chase to just reach out and snap his neck for the sake of revenge.

Or a caravan of Atlas vehicles to come pouring out of the forest around them.

But neither happened. And it didn't seem like they were going to.

Victor shook his head, grumbling under his breath. He hoped he wouldn't regret this.

"We'll explain everything later," Chase told him. "But we need to go. Now."

He took one last look at him. He couldn't explain it, but something was telling him to trust the boy. His previous comment, the one about owing his father a favor, had particularly piqued his interest.

If Chase and the others stowed away in that van were on the run from Atlas too, then something big must have happened.

Then again, it could've been another ploy from Atlas to finally capture him. All of their other approaches had been unsuccessful so far. Perhaps this was a new strategy of theirs...

He shook his head. No, he knew something was different at the Atlas headquarters.

His expression relaxed slightly as he peered at his door. Bella always told him to trust his gut.

And his gut was telling him to trust Chase.

A nervous breath left his lips.

"Alright, Sentinel," Victor finally said. "Let's go."