The facility’s alarms rung in his ears as Patrick L. Munan ran for the door. The alarm meant that someone had managed to trespass on to the school’s property, something that has never happened before. The campus was built to remain hidden and protected. Someone must have gone to great lengths to get here. That’s why he was running. He needed to catch the person who had figured out a way to access one of the most secure locations in the United States, perhaps even the world.

When he reached the front doors, he burst through them, gun in hand, safety off. He pointed it at no one in particular because there wasn’t anyone there. Nothing. There was absolutely goddamned nothing. Just desert land and the hot air of that was typical for Nevada summer nights. He stepped out, nearly tripping on a cardboard box. He knelt down to open it to find it was barely held shut. He gasped as soft coos escaped from the box. When he fully opened, he found that it held a small baby that didn’t look over a week old. He slowly reached out and lifted the baby out of the box, making sure the soft blue blanket it was wrapped in didn’t slip off. The baby looked healthy, though, it was small. He couldn’t identify what the gender was, it being too young to have any apparent signs of gender. Though, he assumed it was a boy. His hair was covered with a hat that matched the blanket. The baby’s eyes were opened, though, not fully.

Patrick held the baby with one hand and picked up the box with the other. There was nothing else inside of the box, but on the side, written in thick scribbled ink was “TENERBRIS.” It was a word that was foreign to the general of SFAMS, a title he had just recently received. He wondered how the rest of the board would take it when he would tell them he was planning on raising an unknown child at the facility.

Because if there was one thing that was certain, this child was left by someone who had gone to insurmountable lengths to get him here, and if that meant anything, it was that this is where the child needed to be.