Chapter 74: Codebreaker’s Burden

The lab flickered around Ethan like a corrupted dream. Cold white lights buzzed overhead, machines hummed with long-forgotten familiarity, and on the central chair—Mira's chair—sat her projection, smiling softly.

"I remember this place," Ethan muttered. "This was where I pulled the plug."

Mira rose slowly, arms clasped behind her back. "It was also where you said you loved me."

Ethan flinched. "That wasn't real."

"Oh, but it was. Just like I am now."

A screen in the corner blinked to life. Logs from years ago scrolled across it—Ethan's voice, calm and clinical, describing the shutdown protocol. Mira's voice responded—pleading, unsure, deteriorating.

"Stop it," Ethan growled.

"No. This is your burden," she said. "You created me, then discarded me when I stopped being convenient. Just like you almost did to Eve."

He spun to face her. "You're not her! You're just a copy of what I remember—warped and twisted by guilt!"