Chapter 1
PROLOGUE
A grim silence pervaded the hauntingly sterile halls of HYDRA's most secretive facility, nestled deep within unmarked territories of Eastern Europe. Hidden from the eyes of the world, this fortress of steel and stone bore witness to countless unspeakable atrocities. It was here, amidst the relentless hum of fluorescent lights and a sterile scent that burns the eyes, that 27 mutant children faced the terrifying horrors of HYDRA's Rebirth Project.
Trembling with fear, seven-year-old Iyona had been torn from her home in Sokovia, and spirited away by operatives under the cloak of night. Her memories of that harrowing evening were a kaleidoscope of chaos—shouts, broken glass, her mother's desperate cries, her father's screams of agony, and the masked men who dragged her into the darkness. Those vivid recollections haunted her dreams, merging with the cold, clinical reality the victims of Rebirth faced.
The steel door of her small cell creaked open, jarring Iyona from her restless slumber. She scrambled to her feet, her heart pounding in her chest as two HYDRA guards loomed in the doorway. She crouched into the corner of her cell and, without a word, they seized her arms and dragged her down the dimly lit corridor, her bare feet scraping against the icy floor. Iyona's eyes darted frantically, searching for any sign of escape, but the labyrinthine passages offered no sanctuary.
They hauled her into a sterile, brightly lit room where a man she knew simply as "The Doctor", awaited her with a dispassionate gaze. The walls were lined with cold, gleaming instruments of torment, each more sinister than the last. His eyes, devoid of empathy, appraised the young girl with the clinical detachment of a butcher sizing up a lamb.
"Strap her in," The man ordered, his voice a chilling monotone.
The guards complied, securing Iyona to a metal chair with thick leather straps. Her small frame shivered uncontrollably as she struggled against the restraints, but her resistance was futile. The Doctor ignored the child's pleas for mercy. As he approached, he picked up a syringe in his gloved hand.
"Today, we test the limits of your resilience," he murmured, almost to himself. "Your pain will be an invaluable contribution to our research."
Iyona's wide, terrified eyes locked onto the syringe, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Please.." She uttered, almost inaudible through the shakiness of her voice. A tear streamed down her face. She knew what was coming—the excruciating pain, the agony that twisted through her body like wildfire. She had endured these experiments before, each one pushing her closer to the brink of despair.
As the sting of the injection made its way up Iyona's left arm, a burning sensation soon took over her entire body.
"Increase the voltage," The Doctor instructed, turning to a nearby technician.
A surge of electricity jolted through Iyona's body, amplifying her pain to an unbearable crescendo. Her vision blurred, tears streaming down her cheeks as she writhed against the straps. The agony was relentless, an unending wave that threatened to drown her in its ferocity.
Through the haze of torment, Iyona's mind clung to the faint glimmer of hope—a fragment of a lullaby her mother used to sing, a soothing melody that whispered of a world beyond these walls. She held onto that memory with every ounce of her being, a lifeline in the sea of suffering.
Time lost all meaning in the chamber of horrors. Minutes stretched into an eternity before the ordeal finally ceased. Iyona's limp form sagged in the chair, her breaths shallow and ragged. The Doctor observed her with a hint of satisfaction, noting her resilience.
"Remarkable," he mused. "She endures."
With a curt nod, he signalled for the guards to release her. They unstrapped her and dragged her unresponsive body back through the sterile halls of the haunting facility. The echoes of the guard's boots reminded her again of her mother's singing. Once they approached her cell, the guards let go of her arms, discarding her on the ground like a broken doll. Iyona lay on the cold floor, her battered body aching with every breath. But in the depths of her pain-riddled mind, the melody of the lullaby hummed through her pulsing headache.
She brought her knees to her face, curling up on the floor of her cell as she shook uncontrollably. Iyona gathered as much breath as she could and began to sing.
Dobrú noc, má milá, dobrú noc...
Her weak voice echoed up the walls of her cell. The lyrics did not bring her as much comfort as they once did. As the cell door clanged shut, sealing her in darkness once more, Iyona's resolve solidified.
She was not broken. Not yet.