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
Sophia’s POVThe sky burned with the first fragile light of dawn.Alex hadn’t stopped driving. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel, his jaw locked in the kind of silence that felt louder than a scream.Lina slept fitfully in my arms. I could feel every shiver that wracked her small frame.In the rearview mirror, Damian sat bound and bloodied, his eyes fixed on the horizon with a look I couldn’t quite read. Not fear. Not regret.Something closer to satisfaction.“You should have killed me,” he said finally, voice raw from pain.Alex didn’t look at him. “We will. Just not today.”I met Damian’s gaze in the cracked mirror. “Why? Why her? Why Lina?”He smiled. “Because I never could break you, Sophia. But I could break her.”Something sharp twisted in my chest.Lina stirred, murmured something too soft to catch. I pressed my hand to her hair, grounding myself in the warmth of her, the proof that she was still here, still breathing.“You failed,” I said. “You lost.”“Did I?”
Sophia’s POVFor a moment, no one moved.Even Alex—rifle steady, breath controlled—stared like he wasn’t sure if he was seeing a ghost… or a monster.I couldn’t breathe.Because standing there, perfectly framed by the flickering emergency lights, was her.The second Lina. Older. Sharper. Eyes like coals burning in snow.She smiled like she knew something we didn’t. Like she had been waiting for this moment her entire existence.“Hello, Mother,” she said again.Her voice wasn’t Lina’s. Not quite. It was smoother, colder. No warmth, no hesitation.Alex’s grip on his rifle tightened.Lina whimpered against my chest, shaking like she was breaking in half.“That’s impossible,” I said. But even as the words left my mouth, I knew better. I knew Damian.Impossible was just another threshold for him to cross.“She’s… a clone?” Alex’s question felt like a statement of dread.“No.” Damian’s smile returned, slow and sharp. “She’s the perfected version. Not flesh. Not blood. Not even fully machine
Sophia’s POVLina’s eyes glowed red like something pulled straight out of my nightmares.Her small hand held the gun steady, aimed not at Damian… but at me.“Lina,” I said, my voice breaking before I could stop it. “It’s Mom. Baby, it’s me.”She didn’t blink.Didn’t hesitate.“I’m not your baby,” she whispered.Her voice wasn’t her own—it was layered, distorted, something else riding beneath the surface.Alex moved fast, stepping in front of me.“Lina, put the gun down,” he said, calm, steady.His hand hovered near his own weapon, but I could see the war in his eyes. He couldn’t shoot her. Neither could I.Nathan smiled from the shadows. “Told you… she’s not yours.”“You lied to me!” I snapped, my gaze cutting to him like a blade. “You said she was safe.”“She is,” he said simply. “Just not from you.”Lina took a step closer.Her fingers flexed on the trigger like she didn’t fully understand how fragile this moment was.“Project Nyx wasn’t about weapons or data,” Damian said, voice si
Sophia’s POVThe hum of the Omega transport line vibrated through my spine like a living pulse—quiet, underground, forgotten by most of the world.But not by me.Alex sat across from me in the transport pod, jaw locked, eyes forward. We hadn’t spoken much since the Rome message came through. Not because we didn’t have things to say—but because saying them would make it real.Lena lay strapped gently to the med-bed beside me, her wrists secured, her vitals stable. We had to sedate her again. Not because we didn’t trust her.Because she didn’t trust herself.“She’s waking up,” Alex murmured.I leaned over just as her eyes fluttered open.“Mom…” Her voice was barely there.“I’m here, baby,” I said, brushing a lock of hair from her forehead. “You’re okay.”“No, I’m not,” she whispered. “He’s… talking again.”I froze.“Who?”She looked me dead in the eyes.“Damian.”Alex stood instantly. “How?”“I don’t know,” she gasped. “He’s inside my head. I think… he implanted something. Years ago. Be