Chapter 1099:

🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙

Hannah observed anxiously from behind a one-way glass, her breath held.

Xander was absorbed in the swirling patterns of brain activity on the screen, his hands moving deftly across a console as he muttered technical notations to his assistant.

Hannah had secured this place through quiet, behind-the-scenes contacts.

“Dr. Ward, what’s the assessment?” Hannah finally asked, her voice taut.

Xander didn’t turn, his focus locked on the neurological map. “The implant is deeply embedded,” he stated with clinical detachment. “It’s situated at the juncture of the amygdala and hippocampus, intertwined with vital neural pathways. The engineering is… sophisticated. It appears to be bio-integrative, designed to release neurochemical agents that continuously reinforce specific emotional directives.”

A chill spread through Hannah’s chest. “Can you remove it?”

Xander swiveled slowly to face her, his expression grave. “Ms. Scott, I’ll be direct. The procedural risk is extreme. Any attempt at physical extraction could cause catastrophic damage to the surrounding cortex. At best, we’re looking at profound, permanent memory loss. At worst, it would result in severe cognitive impairment—a complete degradation of higher brain function. I cannot, in good conscience, recommend surgical intervention.”

T𝗵𝖾 𝗯𝖾ѕ𝘵 𝗋𝖾a𝖽іո𝘨 e𝗑р𝖾𝘳𝘪eո𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝘯 𝗴а𝗅𝗇о𝗏е𝗹𝘴.𝖼оm

It felt like a physical blow. The hope that had been sustaining Hannah began to crumble. Her hands curled into fists at her sides, her knuckles white. “Then… is there any other path?” she asked, her voice sounding strained to her ears.

“There is,” Xander replied, opening another screen that revealed an intricate circuit layout alongside a biosignal simulation. “The core of the chip isn’t its hardware,” he explained, his voice focused. “It’s the command protocol—a set of instructions that hijacks and redirects neural impulses. If I can decode that protocol, I can locate the command to deactivate it entirely or force it into dormancy.”

He glanced up briefly, his expression serious. “The process won’t be quick, but if we succeed, the transmission will cease. The device will become inert—nothing more than silent, harmless metal lodged in his cortex. It would no longer influence his mind. The physical implant will remain, however. Chronic migraines are a likely, permanent consequence.”

“Deactivate it.” Hannah’s reply was instantaneous, devoid of hesitation. “How long will it take?”

“A minimum of forty minutes, and the procedure is fragile. Any disruption could corrupt the entire attempt,” Xander stated, turning back to his work, his concentration absolute.

Hannah’s unwavering attention shifted to Vincent, still and vulnerable within the treatment pod.

Nearby, Coen stood sentinel at the entrance, his posture rigid as he listened to the soft stream of reports from the security team in his earpiece.

“Perimeter is secure. No activity at the checkpoint.”

Hannah had positioned these operatives herself, creating layered defenses for this clandestine operation. The tense silence stretched for twenty long minutes. Beads of sweat traced lines down Xander’s temple as his manipulations grew more delicate, more precise.

Then Coen stiffened. A frantic, staticky voice burst in his ear. “Coen! Three hostile black SUVs are approaching fast from the eastern service road. Three klicks out! Positive ID on Vera—she’s leading them.”

.

.

.