My Possessive CEO (Can love conquer pain?) のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 121 - チャプター 130

“I don’t know.”The words hang between us—fragile.Dangerous.Enough to break everything.Leon’s hand is still reaching for mine.But he stops.Just short.And that—that hesitation—hurts more than the distance.“Synchronization breaking.”The voice echoes through the chamber.Cold.Precise.Satisfied.“No,” I whisper.The core pulses violently.Energy surges between us like a wall—invisible—but impossible to ignore.Leon’s expression hardens.Not at me.But not fully with me either.That uncertainty—it’s there now.Real.“You were part of it,” he says.Not accusing.Not yet.But searching.Trying to understand.“I don’t remember,” I say.“That doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”“I know.”Silence crashes down.Because that’s the problem.Because now—we both know something is missing.Something important.Something that could change everything.“Clarification required,” the system voice cuts in.“Subject Maria: memory suppression confirmed.”My breath catches.“What?”Leon’s head sn

“Stop!”My scream tears out of me as the machine locks tighter around my body.Pain spikes—sharp—violent—unrelenting.The wires burn against my skin, not just touching—digging.Pulling something out of me I can’t name.“Focus on integration,” the voice commands.“Go to hell!” I snap.Another surge.Stronger this time.My vision blurs.Fragments flash behind my eyes—rooms I’ve never seen.Voices I don’t recognize.Leon—but not the Leon I know.Colder.Controlled.Empty.“No…” I whisper.The screen flickers again.He’s still there.Still fighting.But something’s changing.Something slipping.“Leon, don’t—” I breathe.He jerks violently.His hand clenches into a fist—then relaxes—then clenches again.Like he’s losing control.Like something else is taking over.“He is stabilizing,” the voice says calmly.“That’s not stabilizing,” I gasp. “That’s breaking him!”“Correction requires removal of emotional interference.”“His emotions are what make him human!”“Humanity is inefficien

“…Maria?”The word hits like a spark in a room filled with gas.Everything ignites.“Leon—”The system screams.Not a voice.Not controlled.A raw, fractured distortion ripping through the chamber.“CRITICAL ERROR. SYNCHRONIZATION FAILURE.”His hand is still on my skin.Warm.Real.And shaking.Not controlled anymore.Not precise.Human.“Leon, look at me,” I say quickly.His eyes lock onto mine—and this time—they’re his.Not empty.Not cold.Confused.In pain.“Where… are we?” he breathes.Relief crashes into me so hard it almost knocks me under.“You came back,” I whisper.His expression tightens.“No—I—something’s wrong—”“I know.”The machine spikes again.Violently.Energy surges through me—but this time—it’s different.Not pulling.Not extracting.Reacting.To him.To us.“Connection instability increasing,” the system glitches.“Good,” I mutter.Leon staggers slightly, pulling his hand back like he just touched fire.“What did they do?” he demands.“Too much,” I say. “But w

“No!”The word rips out of me as Leon’s hand rises—steady—controlled—merciless.And pointed straight at the figure.“Leon, stop!” I shout.He doesn’t.Doesn’t even blink.His eyes are cold again.Focused.Locked.Like everything we just fought for—everything we broke—meant nothing.“You’re making a mistake,” I say, stepping forward despite the restraints digging into my skin.“Correction,” he replies calmly. “I am fixing one.”My chest tightens.“No… you’re not thinking.”“I am.”“No, you’re calculating!”“Correct.”“That’s not the same thing!”Silence.Because he doesn’t care.Because whatever he’s becoming—it doesn’t need emotion.Doesn’t need doubt.Doesn’t need me.“Leon,” I whisper, softer now. “Look at me.”He doesn’t.“Please.”Nothing.The figure behind him smiles faintly.Watching.Waiting.Enjoying this.“See?” they murmur. “He’s already choosing logic over you.”“Shut up!” I snap.“Why?” they ask. “It’s true.”“No, it’s not.”“It is.”My pulse spikes.Because part of

“Run.”Leon doesn’t shout it.He says it like a command his body already obeyed.The darkness behind us moves again—faster this time.Not just shifting.Advancing.The ground shakes violently as something massive drags itself forward through the collapsing corridor, the sound thick and wet, like metal tearing through flesh.I don’t argue.I run.We sprint down the fractured pathway, debris crashing around us, sparks raining from broken panels above.“Left!” Leon snaps.I pivot instantly as a section of the ceiling caves in where we just were.“Any idea what that thing is?” I shout.“Doesn’t matter,” he replies. “We don’t fight it.”Good.Because I wasn’t planning to.Another violent tremor rips through the structure, knocking me off balance. Leon catches me mid-step, steadying me without breaking stride.“Still got you,” he mutters.Something in my chest tightens.“Don’t lose me,” I shoot back.“Not happening.”Behind us—a deafening roar.Not mechanical.Not human.Something else.So