Semua Bab Surrogate for My Cold-Hearted Ex: Bab 51 - Bab 60

For a long time, Adrian just floated.No sound. No ground. No sky. Just the blackness stretching forever, carved with faint ribbons of gold that pulsed like distant heartbeat signals.He tried to speak, but his voice was swallowed by the emptiness. His chest ached, though he couldn’t tell if he was breathing at all.Then, faintly —“Adrian…”He twisted around, relief flooding through him. “Maya! Thank God—”“Don’t thank anyone yet,” she interrupted softly. “You’re not safe.”He blinked into the nothingness. “Where are we?”“Nowhere real,” she said. “You’re still inside the Continuum’s simulation.”Her voice trembled slightly — as if she wasn’t sure whether to pity him or herself.Adrian’s pulse quickened. “Then that double — the version of me I saw—”“He’s not your double,” she whispered. “He’s the Continuum’s anchor. They built him from your consciousness to stabilize the system.”He frowned. “Meaning?”“Meaning the simulation needs you to believe it’s real. That’s the only way it ho

At first, Adrian thought he was dreaming again.There was grass beneath his feet — soft, damp, too perfect. A warm breeze brushed past, carrying the faint scent of rain and sunlight mixed together. The sky was impossibly blue, stretching in every direction like a freshly painted dome.He blinked, his eyes adjusting. He was standing in a meadow — the kind of place that didn’t exist anymore. Wildflowers carpeted the ground, tall and bright. Birds fluttered overhead, their wings tracing symmetrical arcs. Everything was… too right.And that was what made it wrong.Adrian took a slow breath, his hands trembling slightly. They still glowed faintly beneath the skin, golden veins that pulsed with an almost organic rhythm.He whispered to himself, “What did I do?”The words echoed across the meadow like a ripple, and to his horror — the ripple became real. The grass swayed in waves, like the world itself had heard him speak and responded.He froze.“Okay,” he murmured carefully. “Think, Adrian

For a few seconds, there was nothing but white.Maya blinked, breath shallow, her ears ringing. The world around her had exploded into light—and then silence. The valley that once stretched endlessly beneath her was gone. In its place stood a vast plain of shifting mist, glowing faintly with gold and silver ripples.“Adrian?” she called, her voice cracking.Only her own echo answered her. “...rian… rian…”She spun around, heart pounding. “Adrian!”Still nothing. Just the slow hum of the Continuum’s core somewhere deep beneath the surface.Her knees gave out, and she sank to the ground, pressing a trembling hand against the grass—if it was still grass. It shimmered beneath her touch, turning translucent for a heartbeat, then solid again. The world felt thin, like the skin of a dream stretched too far.He was gone. Vanished in front of her.And she could still feel his energy fading, like a whisper just beyond reach.“No,” she muttered. “You’re not leaving me again.”Maya closed her eye

The first thing she felt was cold.A deep, biting kind of cold that didn’t just touch the skin — it sank right through her bones. The light that had surrounded her was gone, replaced by shadows and silence.Maya gasped as air — real air — filled her lungs for the first time in what felt like forever. It tasted stale, metallic, and dry, but it was real. She fell to her knees, palms hitting rough metal.“Adrian?” Her voice cracked, echoing faintly through what sounded like a massive, empty room. “Adrian, where are you?”No answer. Just a faint hum somewhere above her.Her eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light. The floor beneath her was made of steel, cracked and covered in dust. Cables snaked along the walls like dead vines. Broken glass crunched under her fingers as she pushed herself upright.Then she saw it — a row of pods.Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands.Each one translucent, glowing faintly from within. Human slhouettes floated inside — unmoving, eyes closed, suspended in pale b

Maya blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light.It wasn’t the metallic glare of the Continuum’s core anymore—it was sunlight. Real, golden, warm sunlight. The air was crisp and smelled faintly of rain. Grass brushed against her fingers as she reached down, and she felt actual earth beneath her palms.“Where…” she whispered, standing slowly. “Where am I?”She was standing in the middle of a vast, open meadow. Hills rolled softly in the distance, the sky wide and clear. Trees swayed gently on a summer breeze. It was almost perfect—too perfect.“Maya,” said Adrian’s voice.She turned, and there he was—smiling, alive, and just as she remembered him before everything fell apart. His hair ruffled slightly in the wind, his white coat glinting with sunlight. For a second, she almost wanted to run to him, to bury herself in that impossible reunion.But something in his eyes stopped her.They were kind. Familiar. But hollow. Like the reflection of kindness, not the real thing.“Adrian,” she bre