The OmniNeuro tower rose from the city center like a black needle.
Kaelen stood across the street, rain dripping from his jacket, and stared up at the sixty-seventh floor. Most of the windows were dark. But one — near the top — glowed with cold blue light.
That's where she is.
He crossed the street. The main entrance was a wall of glass and armed guards. No way through. He circled the block instead, found a service alley, a loading dock, a door with a keypad.
Darya had given him more than a stunner. Before she left, she'd slipped him a small black card. "Old credentials. They still work. Sometimes."
He swiped the card. The keypad beeped green.
Sometimes.
The door opened into a maintenance corridor. Pipes ran along the ceiling, dripping condensation. The air smelled of cleaning fluid and metal. Kaelen moved fast, boots silent on the concrete floor.
He found a service elevator. Swiped the card. The doors slid open.
"Sixty-seven," he whispered, and pressed the button.
The elevator rose. Floors ticked by on a small display: 4, 12, 23, 41. Kaelen's reflection stared back at him from the polished steel doors — a man he barely recognized. Tired eyes. Stubble. The ghost of someone who used to be a weapon.
The elevator stopped at 66. The doors opened.
A man stood there. Security uniform. Neural stunner on his hip. He looked at Kaelen, then at the service elevator — clearly not meant for passengers.
"Who are you?" the guard asked.
Kaelen didn't think. He moved.
He stepped forward, grabbed the guard's wrist, twisted. The man yelped. Kaelen pulled him into the elevator, pinned him against the wall, pressed the stunner to his throat.
"I'm only going to ask once," Kaelen said, his voice low. "Where is the Memory Integrity Division?"
The guard's eyes went wide. "S-six-seven. But you can't—"
"Can't what?"
"You need clearance. Biometric. She'll know you're coming."
She. Sabine Harlow.
Kaelen released the guard. The man slumped to the floor, gasping. "I'm sorry," Kaelen said. Then he pressed the stunner to the guard's temple and pulled the trigger. The man went limp — unconscious, not dead.
Kaelen stepped out at 67.
The hallway was white. Sterile. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead. At the far end, a single door with a retinal scanner and a sign: MEMORY INTEGRITY DIVISION — AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.
No guards. No enforcers.
She wants me to come in.
He walked to the door. Looked into the scanner. A red light swept across his eye.
Access denied, a voice said.
He swiped Darya's card. Nothing.
He pressed his palm to a secondary panel. Nothing.
Then the door clicked.
It swung open on its own.
Inside was a circular room. The walls were lined with glass tanks — dozens of them, each filled with blue fluid. Floating in each tank was a human body. Eyes closed. Faces slack. Men and women of all ages, suspended in memory storage.
And in the center of the room, behind a glass desk, sat Director Sabine Harlow.
She looked older than the memory of her — gray at the temples, deeper lines around her mouth. But her eyes were the same. Pale blue. Cold. Unforgiving.
"Subject 734," she said. "Or do you prefer Kaelen now?"
"Where is Echo?"
Harlow smiled. "Direct. I appreciate that." She gestured to the tanks. "These are your siblings, in a way. Failed prototypes. We kept them for parts."
Kaelen's stomach turned. "I asked where Echo is."
"She's safe. For now." Harlow stood, walked around her desk. She wore a black dress, no lab coat. "You found the origin memory. Good. That saves me the trouble of explaining."
"You let me find it. You used me."
"Of course I did. You were designed to be useful." She stopped a few feet from him. "Echo was a mistake. A storage unit that developed emotions. We were going to decommission her. But then you hid something inside yourself — a kill switch that could shut down every neural archive we've ever built."
"The memory of how you made us."
"Precisely." Harlow's smile faded. "Give it to me, and I'll let Echo live. I'll even let her keep her personality. She can be your pet. Your girlfriend. Whatever you want."
Kaelen's hand moved to his pocket. The black pearl was still there — the larger one, the origin memory. The kill switch.
"No," he said.
Harlow's eyes narrowed. "No?"
"I'm not giving you anything." He pulled out the stunner. "You're going to release Echo. And then you're going to destroy every tank in this room. Every prototype you've kept prisoner."
Harlow laughed — a dry, brittle sound. "You think that little weapon can stop me?"
She pressed a button on her desk.
The lights went red. Alarms began to blare.
And from the shadows behind Kaelen, a dozen enforcers stepped forward. Stunners raised. Faces blank.
Harlow walked back to her desk, calm as ever. "You were always my favorite, Kaelen. That's why I'm going to give you one more chance."
She gestured to a door on the far side of the room. It slid open.
Inside was a smaller chamber. A single glass tank. And floating in the blue fluid, eyes closed, dark hair drifting — Echo.
"Take the pearl from your pocket," Harlow said. "Place it on my desk. And I'll let her wake up."
Kaelen looked at Echo. At the enforcers. At Harlow's cold, waiting eyes.
He had maybe ten seconds to decide.