Mazi stirred as the transport came to a halt. The soft hum of the self-driving vehicle faded into silence, and the doors slid open, allowing the cool, sterile air of the Clinic's underground parking to seep in.

Mazi's leg, though healing rapidly, still throbbed faintly where the laser had torn through it. The infection was gone, but the occasional buzz of pain served as a reminder of how close he'd come to losing it. His mind churned, trying to process everything that had happened since he and Kaya were taken from Baobyte. The memory of the scaled ones' sinister eyes and the cold, calculating gazes of the Khuri and Mali Khoraz lingered, sending a chill down his spine. Worst of all, his heart sank at the thought of Esa. Where was he? Was he alright? The questions weighed heavily on Mazi. He felt like he should be taking action, doing something—anything—but he didn't know where to start.

Yoshua was the first to step out of the transport, his movements calm and deliberate. He didn't rush, instead taking the time to help Kaya and Joher exit before turning to assist Mazi. His sharp eyes swept the surroundings with practiced precision, missing nothing. There was a steady, commanding presence about him, despite the chaos of the past week.

Mazi noticed Joher lingering by the Clinic's entrance, wide-eyed as he absorbed the stark contrast between the sterile, industrial parking bay and the chaotic neon sprawl of the Underworld—both worlds apart from the simplicity of Buramiya. Joher still seemed shaken; when they'd first entered the Underworld, he had muttered, "I see why it's called the city of sin." The streets teemed with people drunk on ambrosia or harder drugs, the vivid glow of advertisements, holographic images of scantily clad women, and pulsating lights from towering glass structures clearly still haunting his thoughts. It was a world so alien to him that Mazi could see he was struggling to process it.

Joher continued to glance around, scanning the sterile, technology laden corridors of the Clinic. Mazi felt as though he could hear Joher's thoughts echoing in the stillness: Where was his family? Was Sumaya, his wife, still alive? Had the scaled demons taken her? And his elderly parents—frail and dependent—what chance did they have to survive? Joher's worry seemed almost tangible, etched into every line of his face, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his dark thoughts.

As Mazi and Yoshua passed Joher at the Clinic's entrance, they heard him murmuring a quiet prayer in another language, but two words stood out—"Sumaya" and "Elah."

Yoshua's firm hand landed on Joher's shoulder, pulling him from his spiraling thoughts. His wolf gaze softened with kindness as he steadied Joher. "Elah willing, we're going to find them," Yoshua said, offering Joher a sense of steady reassurance.

Mazi noticed Joher nod faintly, gripping the reassurance like a lifeline. With a deep breath, he followed Mazi and Yoshua into the cold, unfamiliar reality of the Clinic.

Mazi let out a soft breath of relief. They were here. They had made it to the Clinic, and there was no place more secure than this on Atlantis. For the first time since the Khoraz chaos had erupted, he felt a flicker of safety. The airships had long since stopped pursuing them after Esa fell, but the tension had lingered like a storm cloud over all of them. Now, at least, they could breathe.

The sudden movement of Kaya rushing past caught Mazi's attention. She darted through the Clinic's hallway, her urgency clear. Mazi didn't need to ask where she was going—he knew. She was heading straight for baby Kiran. She hadn't said much during their escape, but Mazi could feel her worry the entire trip back.

Frowning, he also remembered how concerned Kaya had been for Esa. The thought lingered, and for a moment, Mazi wondered if she had feelings for Esa. Shaking his head, he pushed the notion aside.

The cold, sterile air of the Clinic hit Mazi like an unwelcome chill. Ibris was standing in the hall when he spotted them, his gaze narrowing in on Joher. His expression immediately darkened—he didn't like strangers in the Clinic's research levels. His eyes flicked to Yoshua for an explanation.

"Trust me, he's cool." Yoshua said brusquely, brushing past Ibris. He seemed more focused on the surrounding environment, scanning the hallways as though expecting danger to appear at any moment.

Ibris nodded, following Joher for a moment before turning back to Yoshua. Mazi could tell Ibris trusted Yoshua implicitly.

Finally, Ibris spoke. "Geshar is still in critical care. We haven't been able to revive him yet. But baby Kiran is doing well—much better, actually." He shared, smiling weakly.

As if on cue, Kaya returned, cradling baby Kiran in her arms. The infant looked far healthier and stronger than the last time Mazi had seen him. His arms were plumper, his skin glowing with a faint vitality. The feathers on his forearms were more pronounced now—marking his halfbreed lineage—their faint ridges catching the light. Mazi felt a wave of relief at the sight of the baby's improved condition.

Mazi smiled as Yoshua softly kissed the baby on the cheek while Kaya held him close. But Yoshua's focus shifted quickly, he scanned the Clinic hall until it settled on Marcus, who was huddled over a workstation in the open room.

Marcus was no longer dressed in his usual sharp suit but instead wore clothes that clearly belonged to Ibris—a bit looser, a bit flashier, and perhaps a bit more silkier. The outfit was far more casual than Marcus' typical style, but he still managed to carry it with his usual air of authority. As he ran a hand through his auburn and gray hair, the faint blue and white glow of the holographic charts and maps hovering mid-air illuminated his sharp features.

Mazi watched as Yoshua followed Ibris into the room and leaned over the workstation, joining Marcus. Ibris and Marcus murmured in low tones, their focus entirely on the glowing projections scattered across the workspace. Still standing in the hall, Mazi noticed the subtle shift in atmosphere but said nothing. 

Yoshua broke his silence, voicing the question Mazi didn't have the energy to ask. "What's all this?" He asked, looking around the workstation.

Mazi didn't wait for the answer. He continued down the hall, following Kaya as she carried Kiran toward the room with his medical cot. The faint sound of machinery filled the room as she carefully placed the baby down, adjusting the cot's settings to ensure Kiran's comfort.

Zeru, the android, appeared almost as if out of thin air, his polished silver frame reflecting the light. "The baby's health has improved significantly," Zeru reported. "He's stabilizing well. The treatment protocols are working as intended."

Kaya smiled faintly in relief as she adjusted Kiran's blanket. Mazi turned toward Zeru, who looked at Mazi's bandaged leg and tilted his head slightly. "May I run a diagnostic on your leg?" Zeru asked.

Mazi shook his head, waving him off with a tired smile. "Maybe later, Zeru. It's good to see you, though."

Zeru paused, his glowing optical sensors flickering briefly. "Understood. Please inform me if you require assistance." With that the android left.

Mazi turned back toward Kaya, who had finished adjusting the cot and now settled into a sofa nearby. The sofa looked oddly out of place in the otherwise sterile research area, clearly brought in for added comfort. Mazi wondered if Zeru had arranged it during their absence, or perhaps the staff had finally recognized the need for some warmth in a space now caring for an infant.

Without hesitation, Mazi sat down next to Kaya, his body sinking into the soft cushions. He let out a long, tired breath, his muscles finally relaxing for the first time in what felt like ages. Kaya didn't say anything, but she leaned back, her presence calm and steady.

For a moment, the chaos of the outside world felt far away. Mazi glanced at the cot where Kiran slept peacefully, then at Kaya, who seemed equally relieved to be there. He said nothing, content to sit beside her in the quiet, grateful for the moment of rest.

Mazi glanced at Kaya, the faint glow of the room highlighting her delicate features. Her green-grey eyes, vivid and alive, seemed to pull him in, a stark contrast to his own warm brown ones. For a moment, he forgot the chaos of their journey, the weight of everything they had been through. In this moment, all he could see was her—the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on.

His heart pounding as he leaned in closer. "Thanks for saving my life," he whispered, feeling something deeper.

Kaya turned to him, her eyes locking with his. A small, soft smile curved her lips as she leaned in slightly, her voice equally quiet. "Mazi," she replied, trembling with sincerity. "You saved me."

Before either of them could second-guess the moment, their lips met in a kiss that was tender at first, then grew more passionate. Mazi's hand moved to her waist, wrapping gently around her curves, holding her close. Kaya's hands slid up around his broad frame, her fingers pressing into his back as she pulled him closer. The world seemed to dissolve around them—his worries about Esa, the Khoraz, the future—all of it disappeared as their kiss deepened.

Her lips were soft, her touch warm, and in that moment, everything felt right. The tension that had built between them for so long finally found release, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Mazi felt at peace.

As their lips parted, Kaya rested her hand on his chest. "Are you okay?" she asked softly, noticing the lingering tension in his features.

Mazi nodded, offering her a small, reassuring smile. "I am now," he murmured, pulling her into an embrace. He kissed her again, gently this time, savoring the moment.

The atmosphere grew warmer between them, charged with an intensity they both felt. Just as the moment began to deepen, the sound of a sharp knock startled them both.

"Ah-hem," came Yoshua's voice from the doorway, clearing his throat pointedly.

Mazi immediately pulled back from Kaya, his face flushed as he glanced up at her uncle. Yoshua stood there, arms crossed, his wolf-like gaze focused on them with a seriousness that made Mazi's heart race.

Yoshua didn't say a word. He just stared at them, intensely, and perhaps a bit disappointed. Mazi couldn't be sure.

Before Mazi or Kaya could fully recover, Ibris appeared in the doorway behind Yoshua, his bullhorns tilted slightly as he peeked around the edge of the frame. His sharp eyes quickly assessed the situation, landing on Mazi and Kaya. Watching Yoshua leave in a near power walk, Ibris raised an eyebrow mischievously, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Ah," he said, amused. "Well, don't let us interrupt."

Mazi's jaw tightening slightly in embarrassment, while Kaya glanced down at her hands and avoided Ibris' gaze entirely. 

"What's going on?" Mazi asked, breaking the awkward silence.

Ibris leaned casually against the doorframe, folding his arms as his smirk grew. "Since you seem so...available," he said, teasingly, "I need both your help with Yoshua. He's being as stubborn as ever."

Kaya stayed quiet, her cheeks a bright pink now, while Mazi cleared his throat and stood, brushing a hand through his long, curly hair awkwardly. "Uh... yeah, sure," Mazi muttered.

Ibris gave a short laugh before stepping back into the hallway.

Mazi let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced toward Kaya again. Despite the interruption and his lingering worries about Esa, he couldn't help but smile faintly at her blush, the warmth of her presence grounding him once more.

Mazi and Kaya entered the workstation room, where the faint glow of holographic displays illuminated the walls. Marcus stood amidst a sea of scattered tablets and projections, his attention deeply focused.

A silence hung over the room, broken only by the soft hum of the equipment. In the corner, Joher knelt on the floor, his body angled forward. His hands rested on his thighs, his head bowed in quiet submission. Words escaped his lips in a steady, rhythmic flow, something sacred and personal, though Mazi couldn't understand the language.

Dr. Dubay was nearby, her striking blue eyes fixed intently on another tablet, a blend of curiosity and frustration evident in the way her brow furrowed and her lips tightened.

After a final soft exhalation, Joher rose fluidly to his feet. Marcus and Dr. Dubay both glanced at him, nodding him over as he walked toward them.

It was evident that the three of them—Dr. Dubay, Joher, and Marcus—had been consulting prior to Joher's prayer. Dr. Dubay straightened slightly, letting out a quiet sigh as she glanced between Joher and Marcus. "So, here are my notes from the consultation with the halfbreed healer," she began. "It was a bust. All she could confirm was that Yoshua's blood is unlike anything she's ever seen before—she suspects he wasn't made in Atlantis."

Joher looked at Yoshua in awe. He turned his attention back to the tablet, scanning it again as if searching for something he had missed. "Elah! This is incredible," Joher said, suddenly. He glanced between Dr. Dubay and Marcus, "I think your healer is onto something."

Marcus stepped closer, examining the tablet. "What is it?" He asked, intrigued.

"Now I recall where I've seen this blood cell pattern before," Joher said, thoughtfully, "In Kemp. I trained there for a year after completing my medical studies in Bayhan. I wanted to learn how to work with halfbreeds, and the best healers—the best halfbreed healers—are in Kemp," he explained, glancing briefly at Dr. Dubay.

"You did?" Dr. Dubay asked, shocked. 

Mazi suspected Dr. Dubay knew very few medical doctors who trained with halfbreed healers, let alone in Kemp of all places.

"My parents were making their pilgrimage to Amuri that year when I met the woman who ran the Kemp healing school. She invited me to study there, so I decided to go to Kemp immediately after," he said. "I wasn't married then, you see," he added, as a shadow crossed his face.

Mazi could see the tension in him, the weight of worry over his wife and parents—maybe dead, maybe captured by the Khoraz. Joher took a breath, visibly steadying himself before continuing.

"While I was there, I met a woman scientist. She taught me so much." Joher said, lighting up at the memory. "She had collaborated with both Atlantean and Alemurian scientists in the region on birthing halfbreeds, many of whom became healers at that very school. Her work was extraordinary. She taught me how drastically different Atlantean halfbreed anatomy was compared to that of halfbreeds made and born elsewhere."

Mazi noticed Kaya's ear twitch at the mention of "birthing halfbreeds." He wondered briefly what thoughts were running through her mind.

Yoshua, leaning against a nearby table with a weary sigh. "That's interesting," he said, contemplatively. After a pause, he added, "I was born in Amuri."

"Ah, that lines up," Joher said, his brow furrowing in concentration, as he studied the data on the tablet in Dr. Dubay's hand.

Dr. Dubay gave a small nod and glanced back at the tablet also.

"But the real problem," Joher continued, grimly, "is this disease. It appears to be a sickness of the blood itself. Yoshua, your blood's structure is disintegrating. It's falling apart."

"That's why whoever examined you before must have told you that your life is... capped," Ibris interjected, as he leaned forward slightly, trying to grasp the science behind it all.

Yoshua let out a short, dry laugh, shaking his head. "I've told everyone, I don't want to talk about this."

As if punctuating his words, Yoshua flinched. Ibris, standing nearby, caught the movement immediately. "Hold on," Ibris said firmly, stepping forward to examine the bandages wrapped around Yoshua's torso.

Joher quickly joined him, his medical instincts kicking in. He peeled back part of the bandage carefully and frowned. "This should have started to heal by now. But it's still bleeding, isn't it?"

Yoshua sighed heavily, flinching. "Just leave it," he muttered.

Ibris didn't back down, and Kaya stepped closer, visibly worried. 

"Can you help him?" Kaya asked Joher, desperation in his eyes.

Joher exchanged a glance with Dr. Dubay, her expression conflicted.

He hesitated before speaking. "I might have a theory and potential treatment plan," Joher said to Kaya, and then turned to Yoshua. "But for this to make sense, I need you to be completely honest with me."

"I'm always honest," Yoshua replied gruffly, visibly irritated. "What is this? Why am I being interrogated?"

Joher pressed on, calmly. "How did you first get sick?"

Yoshua's jaw tightened, and the room grew heavy with silence. 

Yoshua shook his head and stared at the ground. "I don't want to talk about it."

Ibris growled impatiently, his frustration boiling over. "Spit it out, man!"

Kaya stepped closer. "Uncle, please," she urged.

Mazi, standing quietly at the edge of the room, simply observed the commotion, his eyes darting between the tense faces around him.

Finally, after a long pause, Yoshua exhaled deeply. "When Mikael died," he paused again.

The name hung in the air. Ibris' features softened into something deeply sad, his lips pressing into a thin line. It was clear that Ibris hadn't heard that name in years.

Yoshua cleared his throat. It was evident he was holding back tears. "When Mikael died, we were both hit by Crimson Toxin during the battle in the Underworld—targeted because we were halfbreeds," he said, with bitterness.

Mazi saw Ibris' frown, memories flashing through his mind.

"Was Crimson Toxin a bio-weapon?" Joher asked, grimly.

Yoshua nodded, frowning. "It killed Mikael in less than 30 minutes," he said, his gaze flickering between Ibris and Marcus. "You both remember how it happened."

Marcus recognized the name "Crimson Toxin" immediately, his eyes narrowing as he spoke. "I know the labs that made it—they belonged to the Caviallis."

At the mention of the name, Ibris shifted uncomfortably, his jaw tightening. Mazi noticed the reaction—it struck him as odd—but he was too engrossed in the conversation to dwell on it.

Marcus continued with the recollection. "It was designed to disintegrate a halfbreed's blood structure within hours. A cruel, precise weapon, engineered for one purpose: halfbreed execution."

Yoshua remained fixed on the floor. "Mikael just fell down," he said, quietly, a tear glistening in his eye. "He started foaming at the mouth, convulsing on the ground. I tried to save him—I did—but there was nothing I could do."

Ibris' expression darkened further, his fists clenching at his sides.

Marcus stepped forward, placing a firm hand on Yoshua's shoulder. "There was nothing any of us could have done," he said, with grief.

Yoshua shifted uncomfortably. "I knew when it happened—that the Crimson Toxin had hit me too. After Mikael died, I was ready for death, but it never came. Instead..." He paused, glancing at Kaya briefly before continuing. "I began to weaken over the years. My strength faded bit by bit. A healer eventually told me that my Amurian halfbreed blood was slowly disintegrating and that I was dying." He took a deep breath. "But I knew what it really was. It was the Crimson Toxin, it didn't kill me like it did Mikael, but it didn't spare me either."

Yoshua sighed. "I've made my peace with it." He repeated. "I don't want to talk about this anymore," he murmured under his breath.

Despite Yoshua's weak objections, everyone remained fixed on Joher, hanging on every word, waiting for whatever treatment he would propose.

"That's what I expected—a synthetic chemical disruption of your physiology. Your immune system has been trying to correct it for a very long time. It seems to be finally wearing down," Joher said, glancing at everyone in the room.

"You see," he began, more reflective, "I've always suspected that when Atlanteans first created the halfbreeds to serve as soldiers and slaves, they embedded certain... fail-safes into their very DNA. Mechanisms designed to ensure their control and eventual extinction."

Joher paused to think, before continuing. "For one, most halfbreeds in Atlantis were deliberately made infertile. And even in cases where they weren't, pregnancies would devastate the mother, often resulting in her death. It was a calculated design, I think—a way to ensure the halfbreed race would eventually die out, never allowed to thrive beyond its intended purpose."

Mazi noticed that Ibris was now visibly upset.

Joher grew more contemplative. "But with Yoshua, and other halfbreeds from Kemp, it seems... different. Whoever created them didn't follow the same cruel logic. They weren't designed for war or servitude, nor built with an expiration date in mind. Yoshua wasn't made to fulfill a purpose, not in the way Atlantean halfbreeds were. He was simply... made. As if someone wanted to create life for the sake of it. Almost like a mother creating out of love."

The room fell silent. Kaya glanced at Yoshua, as she absorbed the revelation about her own paternal lineage. Mazi, standing beside her, seemed stunned, his lips parting as if to say something but unable to find the words. Ibris pursed his lips as he processed Joher's theory, while Marcus leaned back slightly, deep in thought.

Dr. Dubay broke the silence, thoughtfully. "So, what you're saying is that, unlike Atlantean halfbreeds, Yoshua's DNA was designed to endure—to reproduce and have stronger immunity."

Joher nodded. "Exactly. That's what all this points to."

Dr. Dubay hesitated, searching for the right word before continuing, "There might be truth to this. My father once told me that Atlantean halfbreed blood contained certain... built-in limitations." She paused. "Joher's theory aligns with what my father suspected."

Yoshua turned to Joher, his lips curving into the faintest, bitter smile. "So, tell me, why was I made?" He asked, dryly.

"To exist. To live."

Everyone in the room exchanged glances.

Ibris stepped forward, the faint sheen of tears betraying the usually guarded man. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around Yoshua in a firm, almost brotherly embrace. His voice was gruff, trying to hide the emotion that threatened to spill over.

"See?" Ibris muttered. "You had loving creators. Unlike the rest of us." He pulled back slightly, giving Yoshua a hard, meaningful look. "Maybe that's why Dariq and you turned out decent."

Yoshua stiffened for a moment, caught off guard by the unexpected show of emotion, before letting out a quiet chuckle. "You're making me uncomfortable, Ibris," he said.

Ibris scoffed, stepping back and brushing at his face as if to dismiss the moment entirely.

Joher continued with renewed conviction. "Given Yoshua's history, I believe I can offer a temporary treatment for Yoshua. It won't be a cure—not entirely—but it will slow the effects of the Crimson Toxin, and allow him to heal faster. For a full cure, however," he said to Yoshua, directly, "you'll need to visit my old teacher in Kemp."

Yoshua shifted nervously.

Before he could respond, Kaya stepped forward, blazing with resolve. "He's going to do it," she said firmly. "I'll make sure of it," she added, leaving no room for argument.

"That's right, Kaya, you tell him," Ibris added, crossing his arms and breaking into a wide smile.

Yoshua let out a resigned sigh.

Before the conversation could continue, Marcus, who had been quietly studying the tablets and holographic projections, finally spoke. 

To Mazi's surprise, he said, "I need to go to the nearest temple, immediately."