Later that evening, Selene sat alone in the sanctuary of her quarters, staring out at the city beyond. Sanctum had become a beacon of hope, a symbol of defiance against the Consortium's tyranny. But it was also a target, and she could feel the weight of that responsibility pressing down on her. The city's lights flickered in the distance, a fragile reminder of the lives they were fighting to protect.

Her thoughts were a tangled web, each one pulling her in a different direction. The day's events had left her drained, but sleep felt impossible. There was too much to do, too much at stake. She leaned back in her chair, her fingers absently tracing the edge of the data pad on the table in front of her. The reports from the command center were still fresh in her mind, the red markers on the map flashing like warning signs.

A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. She turned, her heart skipping a beat as Daniel stepped inside. His expression was unreadable, but there was a tension in his posture that set her on edge. He closed the door behind him and crossed the room, sitting down across from her.

"You should get some rest," he said, his voice soft but firm. "You've been pushing yourself too hard."

Selene shook her head, her gaze drifting back to the window. "There's too much to do," she said. "I can't afford to rest. Not now."

Daniel studied her for a moment, his eyes searching hers. "Selene," he said, his tone shifting, "we need to talk about the past."

Her breath caught in her throat, and she turned to face him fully. "What about it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitated, his jaw tightening as if he were weighing his words carefully. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small data chip. Without a word, he inserted it into the console on the table. A file appeared on the screen, its title stark and ominous: Project Dawn.

Selene's heart pounded as she leaned forward, her eyes scanning the first few lines of the dossier. Her hands trembled, and she felt a cold knot of dread forming in her stomach. "This? this can't be real," she said, her voice shaking.

Daniel's expression was grim. "It's real," he said. "The Consortium wasn't just hunting the gifted. They were creating them."

A cold chill ran down her spine, and she felt as though the ground had been ripped out from under her. "Then that means?" she began, her voice trailing off as the implications began to sink in.

"You weren't just born with your abilities," Daniel confirmed, his voice heavy with the weight of the truth. "You were made."

The words hung in the air like a storm cloud, dark and suffocating. Selene felt as though the walls of the room were closing in around her. The truth was a storm, and it threatened to consume everything she thought she knew about herself, about her past, about the very nature of her existence. She stared at the screen, her mind reeling, as the shadows of the past reached out to claim her.