Chapter 83

Chapter 83

Because nobody had ever sounded afraid to lose him before.

The realization hit Cassian harder than the overload burning through his nervous system.

For a second

Just one second

He forgot the pain.

Luca’s voice still echoed in his head.

“I can’t lose him.”

Not we.

Not he’s useful.

Not we need him alive.

Him.

Cassian stared at Luca through blurred vision while electricity cracked violently around the synchronization chair.

The neural ports behind his neck burned like molten metal inside his spine.

His heartbeat had become dangerously uneven.

And somehow

That sentence scared him more than dying.

Because wanting to survive was already terrifying.

Being wanted?

That was worse.

Cassian laughed weakly despite the blood in his throat.

“Well,” he rasped painfully, “that seems emotionally unhealthy.”

Luca looked furious immediately.

“You’re literally dying and still joking.”

“I cope beautifully under pressure.”

Another violent surge ripped through the chair.

Cassian cried out sharply as his entire body arched against the restraints.

The monitors above him flashed red.

SECONDARY ANCHOR STABILITY: 21%

Damon cursed under his breath.

“He’s crashing.”

Hale’s fingers moved rapidly across the console.

“The neural overload is consuming motor function.”

Seraphine looked horrified.

“You say everything like a serial killer scientist.”

Hale didn’t respond.

Mostly because she wasn’t wrong.

Luca moved closer to Cassian instinctively.

Too close to the active neural field.

The core reacted immediately.

White light surged around him violently.

ACCESS RECOGNIZED.

PRIMARY SUBJECT DETECTED.

Luca flinched hard.

The old conditioning still buried deep inside his nervous system reacting automatically.

Cassian noticed instantly despite the pain.

“…you okay?”

The question sounded strange coming from him.

Careful.

Gentle.

Luca swallowed hard.

“It still recognizes me.”

The neural core pulsed brighter at his voice.

Almost eager.

Cassian’s expression darkened slightly.

“Of course it does.”

For years the system revolved around Luca.

Not because he was the strongest.

Not because he was the most obedient.

Because he survived everything they put inside him.

Hale looked toward Luca carefully.

“The architecture still prioritizes your imprint.”

Luca laughed once.

A hollow sound.

“Great.”

Damon moved immediately beside him again.

Close.

Steady.

“Hey.”

Luca looked toward him.

“You’re not the system.”

Simple words.

But they landed deep.

Because the hardest thing about trauma wasn’t surviving it.

It was separating yourself from what it made you believe.

And Luca still didn’t know where the conditioning ended and he began.

The chamber shook violently again.

The ceiling above them cracking wider now.

“REACTOR FAILURE IN THREE MINUTES.”

Seraphine looked upward sharply.

“We are absolutely not making it out at this rate.”

Mira suddenly stumbled near the neural core.

Damon caught her before she hit the floor.

“Mira.”

She looked dazed.

Disoriented.

“The voices are louder.”

Luca knelt beside her immediately.

“What are they saying?”

Mira’s breathing trembled unevenly.

“They don’t want to stay here anymore.”

The archived projections flickered violently around the room again.

Faces appearing clearer now.

Children.

Teenagers.

Operatives lost to the system.

And Luca noticed something horrifying.

Some of them were staring directly at Cassian.

Not blankly.

Not randomly.

Like they recognized him.

Cassian saw it too.

“Oh no.”

Damon frowned.

“What?”

Cassian stared weakly toward the projections surrounding the chamber.

“I think I’m becoming their emotional support disaster.”

Despite the situation

Seraphine snorted.

“That’s unfortunately accurate.”

Another wave of pain tore through Cassian before anyone could continue.

He gasped sharply, fingers twitching violently against Luca’s hand.

The synchronization chair sparked again.

SECONDARY ANCHOR INTEGRITY FAILING.

Hale’s expression sharpened.

“The system is trying to preserve him.”

Silence.

Damon blinked once.

“I’m sorry?”

Hale turned toward the neural core.

Watching the unstable energy pulses.

“The network is redistributing overload patterns.”

Seraphine stared at him.

“Still not English.”

Cassian weakly raised a trembling hand.

“The haunted torture machine doesn’t want me dead.”

“…Oh.”

That silence afterward felt enormous.

Because somehow

Somehow

Cassian had become important to the system itself.

Not as a weapon.

Not as a disposable shield.

As an anchor.

And Luca hated the thought instantly.

Because the last thing Cassian deserved was another cage.

Even if this one suddenly cared whether he lived.

Mira looked toward the neural core with frightened eyes.

“It’s lonely.”

Everyone turned toward her immediately.

“What is?” Damon asked carefully.

“The network.”

The chamber lights dimmed briefly around them.

The projections flickering softer now.

Mira’s voice trembled.

“It was made from pain.”

A pause.

“So it doesn’t know what to do with kindness.”

The sentence hollowed the room out.

Because suddenly the entire system made horrifying sense.

The neural architecture wasn’t becoming human.

It was responding to humanity for the first time.

Vale’s voice cut through the speakers sharply.

“Emotional contamination is corrupting core functionality.”

Cassian laughed weakly.

“She says corruption like it’s a bad thing.”

Vale ignored him.

“Arthur, restore control immediately.”

Hale stared silently at the monitors.

Then quietly asked:

“Why?”

The room went still.

Vale sounded genuinely shocked.

“…what?”

“Why preserve the network?”

Her answer came instantly.

Cold.

Absolute.

“Because it is perfection.”

Luca physically recoiled hearing that.

Perfection?

Children screaming inside archived neural prisons.

Cassian dying in a chair.

Mira hearing voices that never stopped crying.

That was perfection to her.

Damon looked disgusted.

“You are insane.”

Vale’s voice sharpened dangerously.

“No. I evolved beyond sentiment.”

“No,” Cassian whispered weakly.

“You just forgot what being human felt like.”

Silence followed.

Heavy.

Uncomfortable.

Because deep down

Everyone knew he was right.

Another violent tremor shook the chamber.

The far wall cracking open as smoke poured into the room.

“REACTOR MELTDOWN IMMINENT.”

Seraphine stepped backward sharply.

“That sounds bad.”

“It is bad,” Hale answered calmly.

“Your emotional range is exhausting,” Seraphine snapped.

Cassian suddenly coughed violently again.

Blood spilling harder now.

Luca’s panic returned instantly.

“Cassian— hey, stay with me.”

Cassian blinked slowly toward him.

Vision clearly fading.

“You know,” he whispered weakly, “you’re very intense when you care about people.”

Luca’s eyes burned.

“You should’ve figured that out years ago.”

Cassian smiled faintly.

“Yeah.”

A rough breath.

“I should’ve.”