BLOW YOUR MIND

The world blurred as Myst was dragged down the stark, metallic hallway.

Her boots scraped against the floor, the strength in her legs barely holding. Nyx's grip on her arm was firm but not rough, guiding her forward with a silent urgency.

Around them, the facility pulsed with artificial light, sleek walls lined with embedded circuits that flickered in eerie, rhythmic patterns. The chill air laced with the scent of metal and something faintly synthetic.

She didn't know how long she had been unconscious, but her body told her enough—it had been too long. The ache in her limbs wasn't just from the fight. It was deeper, unnatural, like her very cells had been altered.

Her veins flowing with something foreign, her thoughts lagging behind as if her mind was syncing to something beyond herself.

Then, flashes hit her—restraints, machines humming, voices analyzing her, pushing her past her limits. The experiments. Her body jerked in response to the memory, a wave of nausea crashing over her.

Nyx had been there. Watching. Standing among them.

Her teeth clenched. "Traitor."

Nyx didn't respond. He kept his gaze forward, his expression unreadable, but she caught the stiffness in his posture. He was trying to act indifferent, but she knew him too well—or at least, she thought she had.

Myst yanked at his hold, but her movements were clumsy, her body still recovering from whatever they had done to her. "What, no smug remarks? No explanations?" she bit out. "You're just going to hand me over?"

His jaw tightened. "You shouldn't have been involved in this," he muttered.

Myst let out a sharp laugh, cold and bitter. "Right. Because I had a choice."

They passed several doors. Some sealed shut, others left open, revealing glimpses of the facility's inner workings.

In one, a massive screen displayed a network of data streams, symbols flashing in a language Myst didn't recognize but instinctively understood. Another room contained a surgical bed surrounded by mechanical arms, their tips glinting with precision instruments.

Electrodes, scanners, infusion devices—she had been in one of those rooms. She had been strapped down while they worked on her.

Her mind screamed at her to focus, to plan, to escape. But something else was happening beneath the surface.

She blinked, and for a split second, her vision shifted.

The walls disappeared, replaced by a web of glowing blue lines, a lattice of information stretching beyond what her mind could comprehend. The floor pulsed, not solid metal but an ever-changing data field, shifting beneath her like rippling code.

And beyond it all—

A cityscape. No, not a city. A feed.

It was real-time, scattered images pouring into her mind unbidden. The towering structures of the Sealed Enclaves, pristine and gleaming under artificial sunlight. The winding, overpopulated streets of the Outer Districts, shadows moving in alleyways, faces blurring past.

She was seeing them. All of them.

The sensation slammed into her like a shockwave. Her knees buckled, and Nyx barely caught her before she collapsed.

"Damn it," he hissed under his breath, adjusting his grip on her waist. "Come on, stay with me."

Myst gasped, squeezing her eyes shut. The visions didn't stop. The world continued to flicker between reality and the raw stream of data, overlapping, intertwining, until she could barely tell what was real. And then—

A reflection.

Her own face stared back at her from a polished metal panel as they passed. But it wasn't her face. Not entirely.

Strands of her hair, once dark, shimmered with an electric blue hue. Her irises, already unnaturally bright, pulsed with the same energy, shifting between her usual shade and something… artificial.

Panic seized her chest. "What—what did they do to me?"

Nyx remained silent.

Her pulse thundered in her ears. She tried to force the changes away, to push back whatever was creeping into her mind, but it was like trying to fight the tide. The more she resisted, the more it pressed in—whispers of code, foreign commands threading through her thoughts, waiting to be obeyed.

She wasn't just seeing data. She was becoming part of it.

Her breathing quickened, her fingers curling into fists. She couldn't let this happen. She couldn't lose herself.

But deep down, a terrifying realization clawed at her resolve.

She wasn't sure if she had a choice.

In a dimly lit hideout, far from the facility, a monitor flickered to life. Cipher's fingers froze over his keyboard as an alert flashed across his screen in stark, pulsing text.

SUBJECT: BLUE ROSE

STATUS: ONLINE

His breath hitched. His mind raced, calculations running wild. Myst was alive. But something had changed.

"…Shit."