Chapter 185: The Evaluation

DAMON’S POV

The evaluation began at dawn.

Three Phantom medical experts arrived at the palace under heavy security; Dr. Thalia Winters from the Pacific Northwest, Dr. Judah Kane from the Great Lakes territory, and Dr. Sienna Ortiz from the Southwest.

All three were specialists in Phantom genetics. All three had been vetted by both our faction and Drake's opposition as genuinely neutral.

They set up in a secure medical facility within the palace compound.

Maya looked small in the examination chair.

Elena stood beside her, holding her hand. Dr. Cross supervised from the corner, monitoring every procedure with sharp eyes.

"We'll start with basic blood work," Dr. Winters said gently. "Then move to genetic sequencing, ability assessment, and psychological evaluation. The entire process will take approximately three days."

Maya nodded but didn't speak.

I watched from the observation room with Ivy. Her anxiety matched my own. We were both terrified. This evaluation would determine Maya's future. Whether she stayed with us or got taken into Council custody. Whether she was treated as family or as a specimen.

The first day was mostly physical testing. Blood samples, tissue biopsies, full-body scans. Maya endured it stoically, only flinching when needles pierced her skin.

Elena never left her side. Whispered words of encouragement, wiped her tears, and held her through the worst moments.

She's being brave, my wolf observed. But terrified underneath.

"Who wound’t be?"

The second day focused on ability assessment.

Maya demonstrated her nullification in controlled conditions. The experts measured range, intensity, duration, recovery time.

"Remarkable," Dr. Kane murmured, reviewing the data. "Her abilities are significantly stronger than natural Null Phantoms. At least three times the effective range."

"Is that dangerous?" Drake demanded from his own observation position.

"No more dangerous than any powerful Phantom," Dr. Ortiz said. "She has excellent control for her age and training level."

Drake looked disappointed.

The third day was genetic sequencing and psychological evaluation.

Maya answered questions about her childhood, her time with Dr. Cross, her feelings about being a Project Nightshade subject.

"Do you feel anger toward those who experimented on you?" Dr. Winters asked.

"Yes," Maya said quietly. "But they're dead now. Most of them."

"Do you have violent thoughts toward others?"

"Sometimes. When people threaten my family."

"That's normal," Dr. Winters noted. "Age-appropriate protective instincts."

While Maya underwent psychological testing, the genetic results came back.

Dr. Cross reviewed them first. Her expression went carefully blank.

That's not good, my wolf said.

I entered the analysis room where the three experts were studying data.

"What did you find?" I asked.

Dr. Kane looked up. "Maya's genetic structure has been fundamentally altered. Her DNA contains markers that don't occur in natural Phantom bloodlines, some artificial insertions and deliberate modifications."

He pulled up a holographic display showing genetic sequences.

"These modifications enhanced her nullification abilities," Dr. Ortiz explained. "Strengthened the neural pathways responsible for power suppression, increased cellular energy production to fuel longer ability usage."

"But there's a problem," Dr. Winters said quietly.

She highlighted a different section of the genetic map.

"The modifications are unstable. Maya's cellular structure is degrading slowly but measurably. We're seeing accelerated telomere shortening, mitochondrial dysfunction, protein misfolding."

"In terms I understand?" I asked.

"She's aging at the molecular level," Dr. Kane said. "Whatever process enhanced her abilities is eating her body from the inside out."

My blood ran cold.

"How long does she have?"

The experts exchanged looks.

"Based on current degradation rates," Dr. Winters said carefully, "eight to twelve years before critical organ failure. Possibly longer with aggressive medical intervention."

Eight to twelve years.

Maya was fifteen. She might not live to see thirty.

This is what they did to children, my wolf said with quiet rage. Turned them into weapons with expiration dates.

"Can it be reversed?" I demanded.

"We don't know," Dr. Ortiz admitted. "We've never seen genetic damage like this before. Standard healing doesn't work on modifications this deep. We'd need to essentially rewrite her DNA, and that's…"

"It’s theoretically possible. But practically impossible with current medical technology," Dr. Kane finished.

"So she's dying."

"Slowly," Dr. Winters said. "But yes."

The experts presented their findings to the full Council that afternoon.

The chamber was packed. Every Alpha wanted to hear the results.

Dr. Winters delivered the report; Maya's abilities, her genetic modifications, her cellular degradation.

"Subject Maya Reed poses no danger to pack society beyond that of any powerful Phantom," Dr. Winters concluded. "Her abilities are well-controlled, her psychological profile is stable, and she demonstrates no violent tendencies beyond normal protective instincts."

"However," Dr. Kane added, "she does require extensive medical treatment to slow the degradation process. We recommend she remain under medical supervision with regular monitoring."

The room was silent.

Drake, who'd been pushing for Maya's containment all week, looked genuinely shaken. Which wa surprising.

"She's dying?" he asked quietly.

"Eventually," Dr. Ortiz confirmed. "Without intervention, yes."

Even Drake's political ambitions apparently didn't extend to condemning a fifteen-year-old to death.

"I withdraw my motion for Council custody," he said. "Let her stay with her family. She deserves that much."

Several other Alphas who'd supported containment echoed the sentiment.

The vote was called, Maya remains under Crescent City protection with medical supervision.

Unanimous approval.

It was bittersweet. We won the political battle. But lost the most important, the medical one.

Maya is still dying.

I found Ivy holding Maya in a private room after the session ended.

She was crying, Elena beside her also in tears.

"Eight years," Maya sobbed. "That's all I get. Maybe twelve if I'm lucky."

"We'll find a cure," Ivy promised fiercely. "Whatever it takes. We have the best medical minds, access to old Phantom knowledge. We'll figure this out."

But I felt her desperation. We were making promises we didn't know if we could keep.

Dr. Cross entered, her expression grim.

"If Maya is degrading, Lucas and Kira are too," she said quietly. "All three subjects received the same modifications. They're all dying at the same rate."

"Lucas was captured two months ago," Elena said. "He could already be symptomatic."

"And Kira's been missing for five years," Dr. Cross added. "She could be anywhere, possibly already showing signs of failure."

Maya looked up. "We need to find them. Not just to protect them, to save them. If there's any chance of developing treatment, we need all three subjects to study the degradation pattern."

"The Council just voted to commit resources to finding Project Nightshade subjects," Ivy said. "Unanimous approval, even from Drake."

"That's something," Dr. Cross acknowledged.

But we all knew time was limited. Eight to twelve years sounded like a lot. But in terms of developing entirely new genetic therapy?

It might not be enough.

The Council session had barely ended when Marcus found us.

His expression was urgent.

"We found Lucas," he said without preamble. "Or rather, what's left of him."

Ivy's hope spiked, then crashed at Marcus's tone.

"The Preservation Alliance has been holding him for two months," Marcus continued. "In a facility outside Portland. Our intelligence says they've been experimenting on him."

"Experimenting how?" I demanded.

"Trying to replicate the enhancement process," Marcus said grimly. "They want to create their own Project Nightshade subjects."

“Using a dying child as their test subject, my wolf snarled.”

"We have the facility location," Marcus said. "But it's heavily fortified. Twenty guards minimum, possibly more. Extracting Lucas means assaulting a defended position."

"Then we assault it," Ivy said immediately.

"It's risky," Marcus warned. "If we go in loud, they might kill Lucas rather than let us take him. If we go in quiet and get detected, we could lose people."

Ivy and I shared the same thought through the mindlink; we couldn't leave Lucas in enemy hands.

He was Maya's fellow survivor. Elena's nephew through blood. A fourteen-year-old boy being tortured by the same organization that wanted us dead.

"Mobilize a strike team," I ordered. "Best fighters we have. Phantom scouts for reconnaissance. We go in tonight, extract Lucas, and destroy that facility completely."

"The Council hasn't authorized…" Marcus started.

"I don't care," I interrupted. "Lucas is family. We're getting him out."

Maya looked up, hope and fear mixing in her expression.

"You'll save him?" she asked.

"We'll save him," Ivy promised. "Whatever it takes."