Todos los capítulos de Replaced by His First Love: Capítulo 361 - Capítulo 370

Silas’s hand is heavy on my shoulder, but his grip is wrong. It is loose, searching for a memory that isn’t there anymore."Who are you?" he repeats. The gravel in his voice is thinner now, eroded by the system’s format.The red light of the lockdown pulses against the white marble of the gala floor. It looks like wet ink. I do not look at Silas. I look at the Null-Drone descending from the rafters, its mechanical lens rotating with a wet, hydraulic click. It is searching for a heat signature. It is searching for a heart that shouldn't exist in this city’s register."Don't move," I say. My voice is flat. "The drone is slaved to the Citadel’s heartbeat. If yours spikes, it fires."Silas blinks. His cybernetic gray eyes flicker. He doesn't remember the drones. He doesn't remember the girl he once guarded in the basement. He only knows that the doors are red and the world is screaming."Subject identified," the drone’s speaker drones. It is a hollow, synthesized voice that lacks any huma

My boots left the marble a fraction of a second before the floor turned into a throat of gray static. I didn't look back to see the ottoman or the remnants of my life in the master suite vanish.Silas’s hand clamped onto my bicep mid-air, his grip a vice of scarred leather and cold cybernetics that nearly wrenched my shoulder from its socket. He swung me into the dark mouth of the service tunnel.Behind us, the red circle of light snapped shut, and the room where I had been rejected was simply gone—deleted from the Citadel’s local architecture."Go! Move your legs, Aria!" Silas rasped.His voice was a jagged wreck, stripped of its usual military rhythm. We scrambled into the service veins of the Citadel. The air here tasted of ozone and burnt copper, thick enough to coat the back of my throat like oil.This wasn't the polished luxury Kael had built for Serena; these were the city's intestines, narrow and vibrating with the low-frequency hum of failing machinery. Silas didn't let go of

I hit the key. The glass under my thumb didn’t click; it gave way like a bruised lung, and the world dissolved into a scream that didn't need air to travel.Kael was there, a jagged silhouette framed by the splintered sanctum doors, his mouth moving in a shape that might have been my name. I couldn’t hear him. The Moonstone Core beneath my feet had transitioned from a low hum to a bone-shredding frequency that vibrated the marrow in my shins.I didn't pull back. I couldn't. My palm was fused to the console, not by heat, but by a sudden, terrifying deletion of the space between my skin and the machine.Then came the fever.One hundred and four degrees. I didn't need a thermometer to know; the number flashed in the corner of my vision in stuttering amber script. The air in my lungs turned to steam, and the metallic tang of copper flooded my tongue as I bit through my lip to stay upright. The stone walls, the flickering Shadow-Feed, and the ashen ghost of Kael began to fragment into hexa

The white isn't light. It’s a pressurized void, a gap in the code where the Moonstone Citadel used to be. I press my palm against the basement wall, the stone grinding into my skin until the grit draws blood.Forty-two degrees. The biting cold is the only thing proving I haven't been deleted along with the rest of the room.Leo’s pulse thrums against my lower ribs. It’s a steady, rhythmic vibration, a low-frequency broadcast that anchors my weight to the floor. In this vacuum, his heartbeat is the only source of gravity I have left.The white fractures.The basement bleeds back into existence, but the rendering is staggered. The server racks are jagged, their edges pixelating into static. The air tastes like scorched copper and ozone.Rebirth City has stabilized for now, but the floor is buried under a layer of fine, gray ash—the incinerated remains of the code Serena tried to purge.I pull my hand from the wall. The

The white light from the drone’s discharge shears the air an inch above my ear, the heat singeing the frayed threads of my hood. I don’t flinch. My fingers are already buried past the knuckles in the terminal’s glass, the interface yielding like thick, electrified honey as I submerge my consciousness into the city’s Root layer."Move, Silas!" I bark.Silas is a blur of frayed iron and sparking steel. He slams into a support beam, using the momentum to swing upward, his heavy blade grinding through the lead drone’s ceramic casing with a screech that vibrates through my teeth. The machine sputters, trailing black pixels as it hits the floor."Terminal’s live," Silas grunts, his voice a gravelly rasp. He pivots, his cybernetic eye flickering between a dull gray and a frantic, dying amber. "Aria—tell me. Why are we in the dark? Did the Alpha... did Kael send these?"I don’t answer. I don’t have the breath