Ch.60: The Arrest

The sirens weren't distant anymore. They were a screaming, blue-and-red tidal wave crashing against the Glass Fortress. From the sub-basement, I heard the thunder of the reinforced front doors being kicked in—not by Thorne’s private guards, but by the state police. The live broadcast had done more than spark a ballroom scream; it had forced the hand of every officer who hadn't been bought.

"Police! Drop the weapon!" The command echoed down the service elevator shaft, followed by the heavy, rhythmic beat of tactical boots.

Julian Thorne snarled, the sound a wet, gurgling vibration. He didn't drop the scalpel. Instead, he lunged for the bassinet, his rotting arm sweeping Daisy upward. He retreated toward the corner of the lab, pinning my daughter against his chest, the diamond blade trembling inches from her pulsing throat.

"Stay back!" Julian shrieked at the laboratory doors. "I’ll drain her right here! I’ll open every vein!"

The heavy steel lab doors shuddered under a battering ram. Through the observation port, I saw the tactical team, but they hesitated. The sight of the celebrity surgeon holding a child as a human shield turned the air into ice. Julian’s grip was frantic, his blackened fingers digging into Daisy’s swaddling clothes, his lidless eye darting toward the vents.

Then, the ceiling groaned.

The air duct above Julian’s head didn't just rattle—it exploded. A massive, grime-streaked figure tore through the metal housing like it was tinfoil. Leo dropped from the darkness of the vents, a coiled spring of pure, fatherly rage.

He didn't hit the floor first. He hit Julian.

Leo’s weight slammed into Thorne’s back, driving the monster’s face into the primary centrifuge. The scalpel skittered across the floor. Leo didn't wait for a second chance. He wrapped his arm around Thorne’s throat and delivered a single, bone-shattering blow to the doctor’s temple. Julian’s head snapped back, his milky eye rolling into his skull before he slumped into a heap of rotting meat and discarded pride.

Leo caught Daisy before she could hit the epoxy, pulling her into his chest with a sob that broke the silence.

The tactical team swarmed the room, their flashlights dicing the dark. They didn't find a savior or a god. They found a crime scene and a monster in the mud. I watched as two officers hauled Julian up, his limbs dangling like a broken puppet's.

It's over. The cuffs are on.