The room was small, white, windowless. A table sat in the center, bolted to the floor. Two chairs faced each other across it. Wrong Eva sat in one, her wrists still wrapped in the restraints that hung loose now—unlocked, unnecessary. She wasn't going anywhere.
Eva sat across from her. Warden sat beside her, her visible eye fixed on the woman who wore her face. Maya stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, her scales still visible under her sleeves.
Wolfen and the others had returned an hour ago. He was in the medical bay now, getting patched up—bandages wrapped around his chest, his arms, his head. The others were scattered throughout the facility, waiting, watching, not knowing what to do with themselves.
Eva leaned forward. Her voice was soft.
"Are you okay?"
Wrong Eva didn't answer. She stared at the table, at the grain of the wood, at the scratches in the surface. Her eyes were empty.
"Why didn't you kill me?"
Eva's throat tightened. "I know you have DID. And I don't know what you've done, but it's not your fault."
Wrong Eva's head snapped up. "It is my fault. I—I did—it's my fault."
She was near crying. Her voice cracked. The words spilled out like water through a broken dam.
"In my world, there was no apocalypse. Not like here. The Architects were an organization—they promised immortality. My people didn't like it, but they got away with everything. They controlled the world."
Eva listened.
"I lived in an orphanage with Lily. I have DID—the one you fought is Jet. I'm Ava. Our legal name is Eva Rostova." She paused, her breath hitching. "We never stayed in a foster house for long. Jet was always unpredictable. Always violent."
Maya shifted in the doorway.
"When I turned eighteen, I moved out. Worked at a McDonald's. When Lily turned eighteen, she moved in with me. I wanted her to. I begged her. I didn't want to be away from her." Her voice dropped. "She agreed."
Warden's visible eye narrowed.
"The Architects were emerging as an organization. I thought... maybe they could help me. With Jet. I called them. They said they could help."
She stared at the table.
"When I got to the laboratory, they did things. I can't remember what. After I returned, Jet was more dominant. Slowly, I was losing my mind. It hurt so much." Her voice cracked. "One day, Jet was in control. And when I was me again..." She stopped.
Maya took a step forward. "Hey. It's okay. You don't have to—"
Wrong Eva flinched. Her whole body shook. Maya stepped back quickly, her hands raised.
Lily was in front of me. Her limbs were ripped apart. Her guts were spilled out. Her body looked like it had been torn and eaten. On the wall, there was something written in blood."
She was shaking now. Her hands trembled against the table.
She was delicious.
Wrong Eva's voice was barely a whisper. "I screamed. I cried. I stabbed myself. I thought it was a nightmare. And then the whole building exploded."
She looked up. Her eyes were wet, wild, desperate.
"The people the Architects experimented on were starting to show powers. I just... lost it. Jet was always in control. She teamed up with five others—Wolfen Welfric, Derek Strom, Leo Cross, Jordan Lee, and Maya Valerious. Jet told Maya that if I was ever in control, she should bully me. And she did. She would hit me. They all did. They destroyed so much. Killed so many. And I saw it all happen." Her voice broke completely. "And I didn't do a single thing to stop her."
She covered her face with her hands.
"I don't know how she got here. I don't know what's been going on. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."
Then she laughed.
It was a wet, broken sound, bubbling up from somewhere deep and damaged. She laughed and laughed, tears streaming down her face, her shoulders shaking.
Jet was in control.
Warden's jaw was clenched so tight her teeth ached. Eva's face was deadly—cold, still, murderous. Maya looked like she wanted to tear the woman apart with her bare hands.
Wrong Eva looked at them, at their faces, and laughed harder.
The door opened. Wolfen stepped in, bandages wrapped around his chest, his arms, his head. His golden eyes moved across the room—Eva, Warden, Maya, the laughing woman in the chair.
"Okay." His voice was calm. "Get out. All three of you. Before you destroy this place to the ground. Let me talk."
Eva didn't move. Warden grabbed her arm, pulled her up. Maya was the last to leave, her eyes fixed on Wrong Eva until the door closed between them.
Wolfen sat down across from her.
"Well, aren't you a psychopath?" He wasn't looking at her. He was looking at the door.
Wrong Eva's laughter faded. Her face shifted—the tears stopped, the shaking stopped, the vulnerability vanished. Jet was fully in control now.
"Says the guy who killed children."
Wolfen's jaw tightened. "Oh, so your Wolfen did that? I can assure you, I've done way worse things."
He leaned back in his chair. Crossed his arms.
Jet watched him. Her eyes were cold, calculating, nothing like the broken woman who had been there moments ago.
"You're not going to kill me," she said.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because killing you would be easy." Wolfen met her gaze. "And I don't do easy anymore."
Jet smiled. It was a sharp, hungry thing.
"We'll see," she said.
Wolfen didn't answer. He just sat there, watching her, waiting.