All Chapters of ECHOES OF THE PAST : Chapter 191 - Chapter 200

"Because it is reasonable," I replied. "You've been told integration means weakness, that accepting support means surrendering superiorit that's false dichotomy. You can be enhanced AND integrated. Powerful AND connected to broader human community. Those aren't contradictory." "They're beyond human," Konstantin repeated, but his voice carried desperation now. Losing ideological battle in front of people who'd followed him based on that ideology. "They're human with enhancement," I corrected firmly. "And humanity is defined by how we treat each other, not what consciousness capabilities we possess. You're teaching them superiority means separation. I'm teaching them capability means responsibility. Which philosophy actually helps them build meaningful lives?" The silence that followed was heavy with reconsideration. Konstantin's followers looking at each other, at him, at me, processing whether extremism they'd committed to was actually serving their needs. "If you won't stop cor

Guardian facility interrogation room was sterile and monitored—multiple cameras, consciousness dampening fields preventing manipulation, armed guards visible through observation window. Konstantin Volkov sat restrained, but his posture carried defeat rather than defiance. "Dr. Cole," he said when I entered. "Thank you for seeing me. I know this is unconventional." "Most things about my practice are unconventional," I replied, settling across from him with careful distance. "Why did you request this meeting?" "Because I can't unfeel what your daughter made me experience," Konstantin said bluntly. "Her empathic projection—that pure terror and vulnerability—it broke something fundamental in my ideology. I believed enhanced consciousness meant superiority. But experiencing four-year-old's fear proved we're as vulnerable as any baseline human. Maybe more so, because we feel everything so intensely." "And that realization troubles you," I observed. "It destroys everything I've

The letter from Geneva sat on my desk for three days before I opened it properly. Not because I was afraid of what it contained, but because part of me knew that once I engaged seriously with the opportunity, my carefully constructed life would shift again. "European Supernatural Research Institute," I read aloud to Damian over breakfast. "They want to collaborate on consciousness trauma research. They've been following my work with Consilient rehabilitation." "That's ESRI," Damian said, his tactical awareness engaging immediately. "UN-adjacent organization. Legitimate research credentials. But..." "But?" I prompted. "But any organization studying supernatural consciousness has agendas beyond pure research. I'll have Veena run background check." I continued reading. "They're specifically interested in how baseline counseling approaches work for enhanced populations. Want my expertise consulting on study design and ethical protocols." "That's international validation," Dami

ESRI wasn't just studying consciousness trauma. They were developing technology to manipulate it. To suppress memories. To alter emotional responses. To fundamentally change consciousness itself. Not maliciously. Not obviously unethically but parallel to everything Richard Grayson had started before his research became obviously monstrous. I'd walked into exactly the kind of operation I'd been trying to prevent. And they'd been seducing me with legitimate research and professional opportunity while hiding the questionable applications in the basement. I returned to my quarters, pulled out my phone, and called Damian despite the late hour in the US. "I need to come home," I said when he answered. "I need to come home right now." "What happened?" Damian asked, tactical awareness engaging immediately. "They're doing consciousness manipulation research. Suppression technology. Everything we fought against with Richard, just packaged as therapeutic intervention." "Get o

"You seem troubled, Dr. Cole," Dr. Vogel observed during my final day at the facility. "I'd hoped observing our protocols would address your concerns." "They've clarified my concerns," I replied carefully. "Your process is more ethical than I initially thought but the fundamental approach still troubles me. You're offering permanent solutions to temporary crises. People make irreversible decisions about consciousness modification when they're least equipped to evaluate long-term consequences." "And your alternative?" Dr. Vogel challenged. "Tell desperate people to keep suffering while they try integration therapy that might never work? That's not compassion, Dr. Cole. That's ideological purity at the expense of relief." "It's respect for autonomy," I countered. "For people's right to feel their own emotions, even painful ones. For the possibility that they might heal through processing rather than suppression." "Possibility isn't certainty," Dr. Vogel replied. "We offer certa