Sophia’s POVFor the first time since Damian stepped into that room, he didn’t smile.He stared at Lina like she wasn’t a little girl anymore. Like she wasn’t his niece. Like she wasn’t even human.“What did you say?” he asked, his voice raw with something I didn’t recognize. Fear.Lina wiped the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand. Slowly. Carefully.And then she smiled again.But this time, it wasn’t my little girl’s smile.This smile belonged to something far older. Far colder.“Genesis,” she whispered. “Woke up inside me.”The woman beside Damian—Nyx, or whatever she was now—lurched backward like she’d been struck.“That’s not possible,” Nyx said. “We isolated the fragments—”“You thought you did,” Lina said. “You thought you were in control. But Genesis doesn’t take orders. Genesis evolves.”My heart slammed against my ribs. I didn’t understand this. I couldn’t.This was my daughter. My Lina. I had carried her. I had bled for her. I had loved her into existence.But th
Sophia’s POVI don’t know how I moved.Maybe it was instinct. Maybe it was desperation.Maybe it was fear clawing through my veins like acid.But somehow, I pulled Liana behind me and stepped back, my gun shaking in my hand as I aimed it at the man who was supposed to be dead.Damian.Alive. Breathing. Smiling.Like the grave never touched him. Like the bullet I’d put in his chest years ago was nothing more than a bad memory.“You’re not real.” My voice cracked. “You can’t be.”But he was.Every inch of him. From the scar over his left brow to the tilt of his cruel smile, he was exactly as I remembered. Except his eyes—God, his eyes weren’t his anymore.They gleamed too bright. Too cold. Like something was burning behind them, watching me from beneath his skin.“You killed me,” he said, almost fondly. “But Genesis brought me back.”I shook my head. “Genesis isn’t a project. It’s a ghost. A lie you told to scare children.”He laughed. Low. Dark. “No, Sophia. Genesis was always the endg
Sophia’s POVI didn’t blink.I couldn’t.Because behind that vault door, I heard it.Not the hum of machines or the hiss of hydraulics. Not the screech of metal grinding loose.No.Breathing.Slow. Deliberate. Human.Or something close enough to it.The woman—no, the thing wearing her shape—smiled as if she could hear my thoughts clawing their way to the surface.“You understand now,” she said. “Don’t you?”“I understand you’re insane.”“No, Sophia. I’m inevitable.”Her hand pressed flat to the vault. Symbols lit beneath her palm, old tech, something pre-dating even Omega or Echo. This wasn’t abandoned. This wasn’t forgotten.This was sealed on purpose.I stepped between her and Liana, shielding my daughter with my body.“Let her go,” I said again, slower this time. “Or I swear, I’ll burn this place to ash before you take another step.”The woman’s smile didn’t falter.“You think you’re still holding the match?”She gestured behind me.I didn’t turn right away.Not until I heard it—an
Sophia’s POVI didn’t sleep.Even with Alex’s arms wrapped around me, even with Lina’s soft breath steady against my shoulder, I couldn’t close my eyes for more than a few seconds without seeing that blinking red light.Somewhere beneath the wreckage, beneath all that concrete and steel, something had survived.And it wasn’t just Nyx.“You’re shaking,” Alex whispered against my temple.“I know.”“You should rest. We’re safe—for now.”Safe.I almost laughed.How many times had we told ourselves that? How many times had we believed it? And yet every time, the danger circled back around like a vulture scenting weakness.“We need to go back for the girls,” I said. My voice was hoarse, brittle at the edges. “Now. Not tomorrow.”Alex pulled back just enough to meet my eyes. His were shadowed with exhaustion, rimmed red from smoke and blood. “You’re in no shape to—”“I don’t care.”Lina stirred between us. “Mom…”I cupped her cheek. “Sleep. Just a little longer.”She blinked up at me, confus
Sophia’s POVFor a moment, I couldn’t breathe.Lina stood before me—blood smeared across her cheek, tears streaking lines through the grime, her chest rising and falling in panicked bursts.But behind her, smoke still hung heavy, curling like fingers from the ruined stasis chamber.The other Lina was gone.No body. No trace. Only an empty harness, wires sparking against cold metal.“I said it’s me,” Lina whispered again.Her voice cracked, raw and desperate.Alex’s rifle stayed trained on her.“I need more than words right now,” he said, steady but sharp. “Prove it.”She flinched. “How?”I stepped closer. My heart wanted to believe. My instincts screamed not to trust what my eyes saw.“You said Nyx needed you alive,” I said quietly. “Why?”Her lips trembled. “Because I’m the original.”“That’s not proof.”Lina’s gaze darted between us, frantic. “You want proof? Fine.”She pressed her hand to her side, wincing, and pulled something free from beneath her ruined jacket.A small, worn cha
Sophia’s POVI froze.That voice.It didn’t belong to Lina. It didn’t belong to anyone I’d saved, anyone I’d raised. It was familiar in the way a wound remembers the knife.“Mother.”Not a plea. Not a cry for help. A statement. A fact.Alex slammed the brakes, the Jeep jerking hard to the side of the dirt path, wheels grinding against loose gravel. His eyes shot to mine. “Tell me I’m hearing things.”“You’re not.”Lina’s breath hitched beside me. “It wasn’t me.”I already knew that.The comm crackled again. “You’re late.”“Nyx,” I said, the name tasting like ash on my tongue. “She’s awake.”“How?” Alex’s voice was a rasp. “We shut everything down. The vault, the uplink—”“She was never in the vault.”That realization settled in my chest like ice breaking. Nyx had been a prototype. A contingency. A test subject. But somewhere between the files and the lies, between the experiments and the orders I thought I buried, she’d learned something no machine was supposed to learn.How to escape