Patagonia wasn't a place people went to disappear.
It was where people went to never be found.
Ice-cloaked mountains towered above a forgotten facility hidden deep in the ravines of Río Negro. Trees leaned in like they held secrets. Even the wind whispered warnings.
And in the middle of that wilderness stood Herrera's heart—La Cuna.
The Cradle.
A biochemical fortress buried beneath the ground, guarded by ex-military mercs, motion sensors, and death.
But Valentina didn't come this far to turn back.
The team moved in before dawn, dressed like delivery contractors. Mateo drove a rusted supply truck tagged with forged clearance codes. Paloma sat in the passenger seat, her hair dyed raven-black and tucked under a cap. Elías was in the back with Valentina, checking the detonators.
"Thirty seconds, in and out," he said. "We split once we plant the charges. Rendezvous at the cliffside trail."
Valentina nodded, gripping the necklace under her shirt.
It had belonged to her brother.
He never lived to see the truth.
But she'd make sure he was there when the lies burned.
The truck rolled up to the guarded checkpoint. Two men with rifles and icy glares stepped out.
Paloma leaned out the window. "Shipment for Lab B. Herrera's orders."
The guard checked his clipboard. Scanned the ID chip on the crate.
Cleared.
The gate opened with a groan.
Inside, the air changed. The scent of chemicals and old blood hung heavy. Alarms were silent but ever-present. Surveillance eyes tracked every move.
They drove past armed patrols, genetic testing bays, and holding cells. It wasn't just a lab.
It was a factory of monsters.
They parked near a maintenance shaft.
Mateo gave the signal. Valentina, Elías, and Paloma slipped out, ducking into a side corridor.
Inside the shaft, they crawled twenty meters through dust and cables until they reached the heart of the beast: a glass vault holding barrels of Oro Negro—mutated, weaponized, and ready for deployment.
Elías started planting charges.
Paloma hacked the system, looping the camera feed.
Valentina stood guard—rifle in hand, breath low, heart steady.
Until she heard a voice.
A familiar one.
"...Valentina?"
She froze.
Turned.
And saw a ghost.
Luciano.
Her childhood friend. Her brother's best friend.
Presumed dead five years ago.
He stood in a lab coat, flanked by guards, eyes wide with shock.
"You shouldn't be here," he said.
Valentina raised her gun.
"Neither should you."
The alarms went off.
Someone had spotted them.
Explosions rocked the tunnel. Elías detonated the first wing.
"Abort!" Mateo's voice barked through the earpiece. "Fall back!"
Valentina didn't move.
Luciano grabbed her arm. "I can help! I've been working undercover—feeding info to foreign agencies. But I couldn't risk contact. Herrera has eyes everywhere."
She hesitated.
Then Paloma pulled her back. "We don't have time to test ghosts."
Valentina looked at Luciano. "If you're lying, I'll finish what the fire starts."
She tossed him a USB drive. "Download everything. Meet us at the cliff in 20 minutes."
And she ran.
Smoke filled the tunnels. Gunfire echoed behind them. One of the rebels—Luis—took a bullet and collapsed. Mateo dragged him out, swearing through clenched teeth.
They reached the trail as the final detonation shook the mountain.
La Cuna collapsed in flames.
But Valentina didn't smile.
Not yet.
Because as the smoke cleared...
Luciano didn't show.