Chapter 66: Into the Mind of a God

Evryn’s body was still. But inside, a storm had begun.

Her mindscape wasn’t one of light or clarity—it was a battlefield. Shattered reflections of her memories floated in a void, bleeding into one another. Childhood laughter twisted into screaming silence. Warmth, then fire. Joy, then drowning darkness.

And in the center of it all stood Seraphina—beautiful, infinite, and terrifying.

“I’ve waited for this, little spark,” Seraphina whispered, her voice carrying like wind through glass. “You and I… we were made for this union.”

Evryn, curled into herself, looked up from the ruins of her own thoughts. “I’m not yours.”

Seraphina’s smile was tragic. “But you are. You’re every bit my creation. They can’t protect you in here. And soon, you’ll see—love is weakness.”

Outside, Ivy held her daughter’s body as the clones closed in. Asher and Kira fired from behind cover, but it was like holding back the tide with pebbles.

“She’s slipping,” Ivy choked, pressing her forehead to Evryn’s. “She’s in there… but she’s not fighting.”

“You can’t reach her,” Jaxon warned, fear flickering in his voice. “Seraphina has complete control of the neural interface.”

“I can,” Ivy said, pulling a device from her vest.

Asher’s eyes widened. “No. That’s a direct sync injector—you go in, there’s no guarantee you’ll come back.”

“She’s my daughter.”

Ivy didn’t wait for permission. She slammed the injector into her own neck.

And everything went black.

When Ivy opened her eyes again, she was standing in a garden she hadn’t seen in years.

Her old home. Before the rebellion. Before the experiments. The air was thick with the scent of roses and burnt electricity.

“Where are you?” she called.

Then, a girl’s voice answered:

“Mom.”

Ivy turned—there stood Evryn, eight years old, holding a broken doll in her hands.

“You left me here,” she said, eyes glistening. “You said you’d protect me. You promised.”

“No,” Ivy whispered, walking closer. “I never meant to leave you. I tried to keep you safe.”

“But you let them take me,” Evryn said. “You let her in.”

Suddenly, the child’s form melted—becoming teenage Evryn again, shivering in the garden as thorns grew around her. And behind her loomed Seraphina, cloaked in a veil of light and shadow.

“She’s mine now,” Seraphina cooed. “This mind—this soul—is fertile ground. And you’ve already planted doubt.”

Ivy reached out, but vines shot up between her and Evryn. Flames erupted around them—each a memory corrupted: the night of Evryn’s birth twisted into a laboratory experiment; Ivy’s lullabies replaced with Seraphina’s orders.

“You see?” Seraphina whispered to Evryn. “She was never your mother. She was your handler.”

“That’s a lie!” Ivy shouted. “I sang to you. I held you when you cried. I bled for you.”

“But you hid the truth,” Seraphina hissed. “You lied about what she was… what she could become.”

Evryn’s face contorted in pain.

“Make her choose,” Seraphina said. “Me, or you. Light or shadow.”

Ivy dropped to her knees. “No. She doesn’t have to choose between monsters. I’ll bear the darkness if it means she gets the light.”

Seraphina’s smile faltered.

For the first time… Ivy’s love didn’t falter. It flared.

Suddenly, the world around them shook. Cracks spiderwebbed across the garden as memories peeled away—revealing the true mind core: a crystalline chamber, pulsing with fractured thoughts. At the center hovered a prism—and inside it, Evryn’s consciousness, flickering like a dying star.

“She’s fading,” Ivy gasped.

“No,” Seraphina said. “She’s ascending.”

The prism began to rotate, pulling Ivy closer.

“You can’t stop what’s been set in motion,” Seraphina growled. “Once her soul aligns with mine, we’ll become something new. Beyond flesh. Beyond weakness.”

Ivy looked into the prism, tears streaming.

“I’m sorry I hid the truth,” she whispered. “But I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.”

The prism flickered.

“I love you, Evryn. I love you more than air. More than light. Enough to die a thousand times if it meant you could live once.”

Inside the prism, Evryn heard it.

Not Seraphina’s commands. Not the false memories. But her mother’s voice—echoing like thunder in the silence.

And something cracked.

The prism shattered.

Evryn screamed—and a pulse of energy erupted, knocking Seraphina off her feet. Ivy caught her daughter’s hand just as they both collapsed into the swirling void.

“You can’t stop this!” Seraphina howled. “You think love can fix what you broke?!”

“No,” Ivy said. “But it can heal.”

The void shattered.

Ivy and Evryn both gasped awake inside Eden’s Vault. Asher rushed forward, grabbing them. Kira fired a shot that dropped a clone mid-run.

“She’s back!” Kira shouted. “But so are they!”

Evryn stood, eyes glowing—but not like Seraphina’s. Her power had changed.

“I remember everything now,” she said quietly.

Seraphina emerged from the Vault’s core, injured but alive.

“You may have stolen the girl,” she hissed, “but you’ve only delayed the inevitable.”

Evryn raised her hand—and for the first time, Seraphina took a step back.

“I’m not a weapon,” Evryn said. “And I’m not yours.”

And with a flash of light, she launched her power—

Straight at the Vault’s power core.

The entire facility trembled.

“RUN!” Jaxon shouted.

As the Vault crumbled, Evryn grabbed Ivy’s hand, her voice urgent:

“This isn’t the end, Mom. It’s the beginning.”