The team hid close together in the shadows of some rocks. Before them, an ugly, throbbing nursery stretched out, looking like something from a bad dream. The air was heavy and warm, smelling of acid.

They had seen all they needed to see.

Seraph's face looked grim in the green light. She started to make the plan. Her voice was a low whisper that was heard easily despite the heavy feeling in the air.

"This isn't a nest we can burn out. It's a factory. We need to bring the whole thing down," she stated, pointing towards the massive, pillar-like rock formations that supported the cavern's ceiling.

"We plant explosive charges on the main support pillars. A controlled demolition. The goal is to collapse the entire chamber, bury this nightmare under a mountain of rock."

Now she was fully a soldier. Her mind was logical and planned every step, without emotion.

"Titus, Jax, you'll provide cover. Benita, Vanessa, you're with me. We plant the charges. Jonah, you coordinate. Use your Progeny to distract any drones that get too close."

As she spoke, a voice echoed in Jonah's mind.

He heard a calm, female voice that sounded incredibly old. It wasn't a sound he heard with his ears; it appeared directly in his mind.

[You. The little one who weaves.]

Jonah froze, holding his breath. The voice couldn't be shut out, a direct and personal message that made him feel very uncomfortable.

[I feel the echo of your children,] the voice continued, sounding truly curious. [They are so unlike mine. Why have you come to destroy what I left behind?]

"Jonah? What is it?" Vanessa whispered, noticing the sudden shock on his face.

He couldn't answer. He could only stare into the dark, high parts of the cavern as something started to come down. It wasn't a small, buzzing drone. Instead, it moved smoothly and was truly terrifying.

The Broodmother showed itself from a secret spot in the ceiling.

This creature was huge. Its body was a mix of scary and beautiful parts from many animals. It had eight long, thin legs, like a huge spider. But its tough shell was shiny with dragon scales, which had a soft light inside. Bright, glowing veins, like plants, moved on its body, making weird patterns on the walls.

It was clearly intelligent. It was the original, the source of this plague.

And it was speaking directly to him.

A flood of images and feelings poured into his mind, not as words, but as raw memory. He saw a peaceful, natural world from a time long before the walls. He saw the Broodmother, a unique but natural creature, living in harmony with an ancient forest.

Then, the 'metal men' arrived. He saw pictures from before the war: soldiers in odd armor and flying vehicles. He felt the creature's intense fear as it was caught, put in a cage, and moved to Station Chimera.

He felt its intense pain. He saw flashes of scientists in white coats, with needles and saws. He felt its own essence being torn apart, its very soul ripped to shreds and forcibly merged with the genetic material of dozens of other creatures. It was a twisted act, a breaking of life's most basic rules.

It was the original, tortured subject of the Bureau's failed experiments.

He continued to see images. He felt the creature's urgent escape from the crumbling lab, and how it flew into the empty Grey Fells. Its single drive was to live, and to spread its new form. It had found the mine, packed with minerals and filled with animals it could use as parts.

It began to build.

It saw its monstrous children not as weapons, but as the only legacy it had left. They were twisted, unnatural, but they were hers.

They were the only proof that she had survived the horror of the metal men.

The torrent of memories ceased, leaving Jonah gasping, his heart pounding with a phantom terror.

The flood of memories stopped, leaving Jonah breathless, his heart beating fast with a fear that wasn't truly real, but felt it.

[You understand the pain and the joy of creation. I am not a mindless monster. I am a survivor. All I ask is to be left in peace.]

Jonah stumbled back, pressing his hand to his head. He was shocked, torn, and terrified. He wasn't looking at a villain, but a sad, smart victim who had been forced into becoming a monster by the very people he was meant to defend. This wasn't just an animal. This was someone seeking refuge.

"Jonah, what happened?" Seraph demanded, her hand on her weapon. "Talk to me."

Jonah took an unsteady breath, struggling to get the words out. ''It… it spoke to me,'' he said, his voice raw. He quickly told them about the creature's silent plea, its sad history, and the pictures he saw of Station Chimera."

The team's unified resolve shattered in an instant. Their reactions splintered.

Benita was the first to break. Her face was pale with horror. "We can't do it, Seraph," she said, her voice trembling. "We can't just execute a sentient, suffering creature. It's… it's inhumane."

Jax's face grew hard. "It's a talking monster," he growled, gripping his knife tighter. "That just makes it smarter and more deadly. My rules are to stop dangers, not talk about why they do things." The bad feeling between him and the medic, which had been hidden, now burst out.

Titus, the stoic warrior, said nothing. He remained a statue of military discipline, but for the first time, a hint of doubt moved in his eyes. He looked from Jonah to Benita, and then to his commander, his posture rigid as he awaited her definitive order.

Seraph had to make the final decision. The heavy burden of leading the entire mission settled upon her. She looked from Jonah's unsure face to Benita's strong request, then to Jax's grim, practical view. She was a soldier, taught to follow commands and stop dangers. But she was also a person, and she had just learned the story of someone hurt by her own government's great pride.

Her face was a serious, unmoving mask. She was pulled in two directions: her complete duty to protect the nation from this plague, and the surprising human sympathy she felt for the creature that caused it.

The Broodmother waited silently in the cavern below, its many eyes fixed on the small group of humans who held its fate in their hands.

The nursery was silent. The team was fractured.

And Seraph, for a long, agonizing moment, did not know what to do.