INICIAR SESIÓNThe silver bracelet sat on my bedside table like an accusation.I had stared at its tiny engraved initials—A.W.—for nearly an hour while the settlement slept. Seven words on a scrap of paper had upended everything I thought I knew about my childhood.Your mother did not give birth to one girl.I remembered my mother's hands brushing my hair when I was little. I remembered her voice humming lullabies when nightmares woke me. I had grown up believing I was her only child, wondering why I never had a sister to share the weight of our quiet, sterile home.Had she lied to me every single day?A sharp knock broke the silence."Come in," I said, not turning from the table.Miller stepped into the room, his jaw set tight. "Daniel is conscious."I picked up the bracelet and slipped it into my tactical pocket. "Did he ask for me?""Repeatedly.""Good. Bring him to the subterranean holding cell."Miller studied my face in the dim light. "Clara, you need to sleep. You're running on fu
For several seconds, nobody spoke.The security monitor went dead, casting a dull gray reflection across our faces.I stared at the black screen, waiting for Anna’s face to reappear, waiting for her to tell me that what I had just seen was some sick, high-tech illusion engineered by Gabriel.Nothing happened. Only the low, rhythmic hum of the command center’s ventilation system."Did everyone see that?" I asked, my voice barely carrying over the quiet room.Miller nodded, his shotgun still held at a low-ready, his eyes fixed on the empty screen. Beside him, Jonah looked as though he had just seen his own grave dug."That was Anna Whitmore," Jonah whispered, his voice trembling.I spun on him. "You recognize her?""Not personally. But I’ve pulled her files from the Asterion legacy vaults," Jonah said, wiping a thin sheen of sweat from his forehead. "She was listed as a deceased subject. Died during the initial neural sync trials twenty years ago.""Then explain to me how a gi
The three knocks came again.Slow.Deliberate.Almost patient.I stood completely still, my sidearm trained on the floorboards beneath my desk.Jonah had stopped breathing beside me, his knuckles white around his frequency scanner. "Clara," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the hum of the emergency lanterns. "We need to clear the room."I snatched the radio off my belt without taking my eyes off the metal hatch. "Miller, seal every entrance to the command building. Nobody comes in or goes out without my personal sign-off.""Already done," Miller’s voice crackled back instantly. "Security teams are setting a perimeter around the block. What's happening in there?""Keep everyone away from the western shelter," I commanded, my jaw tight. "Lily stays under heavy guard. Do not move her.""Understood."I dropped the radio back into its holster. Another knock echoed from below—metal scraping against metal.Jonah stepped carefully toward the corner of my office, hauling
I didn't sleep that night.Every time I closed my eyes, the same harrowing sequence replayed behind my eyelids: the cold, rusted shelter gates; the snarling horde of infected closing in; Lily weeping against my chest; and Elias Voss standing silently behind Marcus, watching us like specimens under glass.But the memory wasn't the worst part.The worst part was knowing that someone living inside my fortress, breathing my air, eating my food, had watched it all happen—and had brought the nightmare back into our home.I stood by the tall glass window of my command office, watching the settlement wake beneath a pale, frosty sunrise. Down in the courtyard, children carried steaming buckets from the water station, and scouts repaired the outer wooden barricades. It looked peaceful. It looked safe.It looked like a lie.A light knock snapped me out of my trance."Come in," I said, without turning.Miller stepped into the room, his heavy boots sounding muffled against the rug. He hel
For several seconds, nobody moved.The man stood outside the medical bay doorway as if he had been waiting for us all along.His old military jacket was faded and torn at the shoulders. A jagged, pale scar crossed his left cheek, disappearing beneath his collar. He carried no visible weapon, but something about the quiet, balanced way he stood made my guards tighten their fingers around their triggers.I knew that face.Not because I had ever spoken to him. Because I had seen it on the worst day of my first life.He had stood in the shadows behind Marcus at the shelter gates. He had whispered into my husband's ear before the locks dropped. And moments later, the infected had turned away from the other vehicles and driven straight for Lily and me.I had spent five years wondering what he had said to Marcus in those final seconds. Now he was standing ten feet from my daughter."Move Lily behind me," I whispered.Miller stepped forward, raising his shotgun. "Identify yourself! H
"PURGE PROTOCOL: FIVE SECONDS."The digital readout pulsed a toxic, blinding red against the subterranean darkness.My hands shook so violently I nearly dropped my sidearm. Behind me, Gabriel struggled against Miller's iron grip, his low, breathy laughter echoing off the damp concrete. My mother was shouting, her words swallowed by the deafening roar of the facility's emergency sirens.On the junction box screen, Anna was crying—digital tears fracturing into pixelated lines of white noise."Clara, please," her child’s voice cracked over the speaker. "You have to choose. If you don't execute the purge, the system resets the whole timeline!"I stared at her small face. She had my eyes. My mother's soft, curved smile. And a lifetime of stolen memories I would never get to share with her.I had spent my entire life believing I was an only child. I had grown up without a sister to whisper secrets to beneath the blankets, without a sister to share the weight of a shattered family. I







