Sophia’s POVHome.That word cut through me sharper than any blade could.Not because it was true.But because it wasn’t.“I’m not yours,” I said, forcing steel into my voice. “And this place was never home.”Nyx tilted her head. That eerie, almost childlike curiosity bled through her expression again. “Aren’t you, though? Aren’t we the same? Made from the same ruin. Built to break the same world?”“No.”I stepped forward. Lena’s hand shot out to stop me, but I brushed past her.Not reckless. Not this time. Calculated.If Nyx wanted me alive, she wouldn’t kill me now. Not until she had what she thought she needed.“You’re what they made.” My voice stayed low, measured. “I’m what survived.”She smiled. “Survival’s a funny thing. It makes you think you’re free.”The girl behind her—the one they’d called sister, the one who’d whispered in the dark—watched us with hollow eyes. Her pulse blinked green on the monitors spliced into her skin. I recognized the tech. Old Echo code layered with
Sophia’s POVThe beacon in the dark pulsed again.Once. Twice.Like a heartbeat.Like mine.“Time to come home, sister.”The words curled in the night like smoke, wrapping around my ribs, tightening until I couldn’t breathe.I didn’t recognize the voice. But I knew it.Somewhere beneath the layers of who I was, beneath the wreckage of memory and the codes they buried beneath my skin, I knew it.Alex pulled me back, slow, steady. His hand on my arm the only thing anchoring me to now.“Inside,” he said.Not a suggestion. A command.I obeyed.The girls were upstairs. I heard the soft creak of footsteps, the quiet murmur of Lina soothing Liana back to sleep. They didn’t know the danger creeping closer. Not yet.They couldn’t know.Because if they did…They’d see the truth written all over my face.Inside the living room, Lena paced. Sharp, restless energy coiled in her shoulders. A gun in one hand, her blade still wet in the other.“She’s not done,” Lena said. “She’s not even started.”“S
Sophia’s POVHer words echoed long after she spoke them.You should run.But there was no running anymore.Not for me.Not for Alex.Not for the girls sleeping upstairs, safe only because I hadn’t let them see the worst of the world yet.She stood there, small, slight, a silhouette torn out of something worse than nightmares. The wind didn’t touch her. The cold didn’t bite her. Her eyes were too old for her face, and too knowing for her age.“What’s your name?” I asked.Because I needed to call her something besides the fear rising in my throat.She tilted her head again, like a machine parsing new input. “They called me Zero-Two.”Her lips curled, not quite a smile. “But you can call me… sister.”Ice slid down my spine. “You’re lying.”“Am I?” she asked sweetly. “You think Project Echo only made one mistake?”The house creaked behind me. I could feel Alex’s presence like a shadow pressed against my back, hovering, waiting. His gun was already in his hand—I knew him well enough not to
Sophia’s POVSome nights, I still wake up choking on smoke.Not from fire anymore, but from memory—the way it fills my lungs and burns even after you’ve run far enough to think you’re safe.Alex sleeps beside me, arm thrown heavy over my waist like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he lets go. I wonder if he dreams of the same things. Of ruined churches and broken bodies. Of my face blinking out in static on a monitor he couldn’t reach.I watch him breathe. Count each rise and fall of his chest until my own heartbeat stops racing.The sea hums low against the cliffs outside. A lullaby in another language. One I’m learning slowly. One without codes or bloodshed tucked between the notes.I get up without waking him. Barefoot, quiet. My ribs still ache if I move wrong. The scars itch beneath my skin like ghosts trapped there.I step outside. The night wraps around me like silk—cool and wide and empty in the way only freedom can be.Beneath us, the ocean churns against black rock.Above, the sta
Sophia’s POVThe fire should have killed us both.But monsters don’t burn the way people do.Pain bloomed sharp and immediate through my ribs, down my side, across my knuckles split open from hitting something too hard too many times. The heat sucked all the air from my lungs, left me gasping in the dark beneath what was left of the church.Echo’s hand closed around my throat like a promise.“You can’t kill what you are,” she whispered.Her eyes glowed faint in the embers. Not my eyes. Not really. Not anymore.They were brighter. Emptier. Full of algorithms and teeth.“You’re not me,” I rasped, clawing at her wrist.“I’m the version they perfected.”Her smile split wide. “You think you’re fighting for love. Family. Redemption.”Her grip tightened. “But all of it ends here.”I drove my knee into her ribs.Felt bone shift beneath the impact—hers or mine, I couldn’t tell.Didn’t care.She staggered. I rolled. Grabbed a shard of metal glowing hot from the blast.Drove it into her side wit
Sophia’s POVI should have known running wouldn’t be enough.The thing in the rearview mirror didn’t blink.It didn’t falter.It didn’t even breathe.It just kept moving—like hunger wrapped in skin.And the worst part?It wore my face perfectly.Same eyes.Same scars.Same smile I only used when I was lying.Alex’s hands tightened on the wheel, knuckles white with tension.Lena hadn’t said a word since we left Site Eleven in flames behind us.Silence pressed in thick, like fog with teeth.“What is that?” Alex asked, voice low. Controlled. On the edge of breaking.I couldn’t answer.Because I already knew.And knowing hurt more than I could say aloud.“It’s the contingency,” I said finally. “In case I failed. In case I ran.”“They cloned you?” Lena spat. “Jesus, Sophia—how many secrets are you hiding?”“Too many.”But this one… this was the worst.Project Nyx hadn’t just been about bioware weapons or neural mapping or unlocking doors to dimensions we couldn’t name.It had been about in