THE ANATOMY OF SILENCE

7:51 PM – Rothwood Institute, Surgical Wing 2138-B

Max held the scalpel in a gloved hand. Cold. Precise. Familiar.

Across from him stood Julian West — blood-spattered apron, eyes glowing with conviction, the eerie calm of a man who thought he was already dead.

"Do it," Julian whispered. "You've dissected hundreds of corpses, Max. Why not try one while it's still breathing?"

Max didn't move. The room was lined with their shared history — photos, case files, surgical diagrams, and at the center of it all, Elise's death certificate, altered in Max's handwriting.

Julian stepped closer.

"You remember how warm she was, don't you?" he murmured. "Still twitching under the scalpel. I held her lungs in my hands and waited for you to stop me. But you didn't."

Max's jaw tightened.

"Because you were curious."

FLASHBACK – 2008, The Night Elise Died

Julian had tied her down. Calm. Experimental. Her sobs muffled.

Max had watched from the doorway, frozen, nauseous — and strangely transfixed.

"Elise wanted to be immortal," Julian said gently. "I'm just preserving her brilliance."

Max had crossed the room, stopped at the table.

"She trusted you," he'd whispered.

"And so do you," Julian replied.

Present – Rothwood Basement

Julian turned his back to Max.

Completely vulnerable.

"One cut, Max. End it. Make the pain go away. You're good at that."

The scalpel felt like it belonged to someone else in Max's hand.

Julian whispered without turning:"I'm not the monster."

Max raised the blade.

7:52 PM – Police Above Ground

Lena stormed through the dust-choked hallway, armed officers behind her.

A voice cut through the radio.

"We've got movement in the sub-levels! Two life signals. Close proximity."

Lena's heart pounded.

"Max, answer me! Where are you?"

Static.

Then…

"He's got the scalpel."

7:53 PM – 2138-B

Julian turned to face Max, bare-chested, a red marker drawn in a vertical line down his torso — from throat to navel.

An invitation.

A target.

He smiled. "Come on. The Y-incision is your signature. Give me your final masterpiece."

Max's hand trembled.

"You think I won't?"

Julian's voice softened. "I think you will. Because you've always wanted to know what made me. What makes you."

Max moved forward. Steel brushed skin.

But his other hand—

slipped into Julian's pocket.

And retrieved a flash drive.

Julian's eyes flicked down. "Clever boy."

FLASHBACK – Two Years Ago, Anonymous Tip

A package arrived at Max's apartment.

Inside: a single photo of Elise on the dissection table — from above, surgical light glaring.

No sender.

No note.

No return address.

Just a name scribbled on the back:Julian West.

That was when Max knew he was still alive.

Present – Julian laughed. "Go on, Max. Cut me. Or… are you afraid of what you'll find?"

Max dropped the scalpel.

And punched him.

Julian crumpled. Blood spilled from his nose, glistening on the cold floor.

Max grabbed a syringe from the table and jabbed it into his neck — full of propofol.

Julian twitched.

Collapsed.

Still breathing.

7:54 PM – Tactical Entry

The basement doors blew open with a thunderous crack.

Lena stormed in, gun raised. Her eyes darted between Max and Julian's unconscious body.

Max stood over him.

Hands shaking.

Eyes hollow.

"It's over," he said.

But Lena's gun didn't lower.

7:57 PM – Police HQ, Evidence Room

The flash drive was loaded into the forensics computer.

Video files.

Photos.

Voice recordings.

All cataloged.

Julian's experiments.

His killings.

His diaries.

But buried in the final folder — one labeled "Project Lazarus" — were documents Max never expected.

And one, most horrifying of all:

A video of Max's father.

Dr. Edward Hamilton.

Alive.

Older.

Speaking directly to the camera.

"My son will be the perfect vessel. I've taught him how to cut. Julian taught him how to forget. Between us, he'll transcend."

Lena gasped.

Max's knees buckled.

8:04 PM – Interrogation Chamber

Julian, now restrained and sedated, whispered through cracked lips.

"You still don't get it, do you?"

Max leaned in.

"I never wanted to be you," Julian rasped. "I just wanted to wake you up. You're the final autopsy, Max. Not them."

He smiled.

"Dissect yourself."

Later That Night – Max's Apartment

Max stood in front of the mirror again.

No messages this time.

Just his reflection.

Staring back like a stranger.

His phone vibrated.

Blocked Number.

He answered.

A voice, not Julian's this time.

Older.

Familiar.

"I'm proud of you, Max. The silence is almost gone."

Max's blood ran cold.

He whispered: "Dad?"

The line went dead.

End of Chapter 8