Chapter 64: Between the Blade and the Bloodline

Asher’s blade shimmered with an otherworldly glow, its edge humming as it sliced through the air toward Ivy.

She barely ducked in time, her breath catching in her throat.

“Asher, don’t do this!” she screamed, scrambling to her feet. “This isn’t you!”

But his eyes were vacant—void of recognition, empathy, or warmth. He wasn’t the man she had loved. He was a weapon, activated by a betrayal buried deep within him.

Seraphina stood at the edge of the chamber, her hands folded, watching like a conductor before an orchestra.

“You always thought you were in control, Ivy,” she said calmly. “But you were just playing your part.”

Ivy dodged another strike and rolled behind a console, her mind racing. She couldn’t hurt Asher. Not only because she loved him—but because her child needed him.

“Override code,” Ivy muttered breathlessly. “There has to be a fail-safe.”

Jaxon shouted through the comms, his voice crackling. “We’re locked out! Seraphina’s AI is jamming every override sequence!”

Kira cursed as she fired a pulse shot that barely missed Asher. “We’ll have to put him down unless you stop him, Ivy!”

“No,” Ivy said firmly. “I will get through to him.”

She rose slowly, tears stinging her eyes as Asher stalked forward.

Clutching the pendant around her neck—the one Asher had given her when they first escaped the Syndicate—Ivy focused on the shared bloodline encoded in Project Gemini. She remembered the file: 87% genetic compatibility. Linked for survival. Bonded by design.

“Do you remember Paris?” she whispered, stepping into his path.

Asher hesitated.

“You kissed me on the bridge after we ran for our lives. You said you didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but if it brought me, you’d be okay.”

His grip faltered.

A flicker of confusion crossed his face.

“Protocol…” he muttered. “Override… malfunction…”

“You’re not a machine,” Ivy said softly. “You’re the man who promised to keep me and our daughter safe. Fight it.”

She stepped closer, pressing her hand against his chest.

“You love me, Asher Hale.”

His fingers trembled.

Then the blade clattered to the floor.

Seraphina’s expression soured. “So much sentiment. So predictable.”

She tapped her wristband, and the cocoon holding Ivy’s daughter began to glow brighter—crackling with unstable energy.

“No!” Ivy screamed, rushing toward the pod.

Seraphina extended her hand—and Ivy was hurled backward by a wave of kinetic force.

“Stay down,” Seraphina said coldly. “You don’t deserve her.”

Kira flanked her with precision, unloading a spray of magnetic rounds. Seraphina deflected them mid-air, retaliating with a psychic shockwave that sent Kira and two other rebels flying.

But in the chaos, Jaxon slipped behind the mainframe, planting a virus Ivy had programmed—a desperate contingency code labeled Revenant.

“Uploading now,” Jaxon whispered.

Seraphina turned too late.

The chamber lights flickered, alarms blared, and a robotic voice announced:

“System corruption detected. AI control… compromised.”

As the virus spread through the system, Seraphina clutched her head.

“Impossible… You can’t—”

Suddenly, her form began to shimmer.

Ivy’s eyes widened. “She’s… not real?”

The Seraphina standing before them glitched, revealing a flickering projection.

“She’s a neural echo,” Jaxon gasped. “A digital fragment controlling the facility—but the real Seraphina must still be out there!”

The illusion let out a shriek and began to disintegrate as the virus burned through her code.

Before it vanished completely, the AI’s voice rang out one last time.

“You think you’ve won? She’s coming. The true Seraphina. And she’s already one step ahead.”

The pod containing Ivy’s daughter began to malfunction, lights flashing red.

Ivy and Asher raced to her, working together to bypass the safeguards.

Kira stood guard while Jaxon monitored systems from a nearby console.

“Hurry!” he yelled. “The facility’s going into self-destruct! Five minutes!”

With trembling hands, Ivy entered the emergency release code and pulled open the pod.

Her daughter’s eyes fluttered open—pale silver, like stardust.

“Mommy…” she whispered.

Ivy held her tightly, tears spilling down her face. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

“Not for long,” Kira warned. “The backup generator just kicked in. We’ve got a swarm of mech-drones on the way.”

Asher picked up his weapon. “Then we fight our way out.”

But as they turned to flee, the child reached out and touched the control panel with one glowing finger.

Everything stopped.

The alarms fell silent. The drones froze mid-flight. The lights returned to a soft hum.

Even the trembling walls settled.

“She rewrote the system,” Jaxon breathed. “She just… controlled the entire Citadel.”

The child looked up at Ivy.

“I don’t know how I did it,” she said softly. “But I saw the codes. Like stars in my mind.”

Asher knelt before her. “You’re amazing.”

Kira raised an eyebrow. “She’s more than amazing. She’s dangerous. That level of power in a child? It’s unstable.”

Ivy turned sharply. “She’s not a weapon.”

“No,” Kira said. “But someone out there is still trying to use her as one.”

Back aboard the rebel warship, as the team evacuated the Citadel before it imploded, Ivy stared out the observation window, her daughter curled in her lap.

“She’s strong,” Asher said, joining her. “Stronger than we imagined.”

“She’s still a child,” Ivy murmured. “She deserves to be one.”

Before he could respond, an encrypted message came through the main channel.

From an unknown source.

Kira opened it, face turning pale.

“It’s her,” she said. “The real Seraphina. Alive. And she’s issued a global ultimatum.”

The screen displayed a countdown.

72 Hours.

Return the girl, or watch the world burn.

Ivy met Asher’s eyes.

“We’re out of time.”