aeyawright

The war for freedom is far from over. But this time, the enemy isn’t just the government—it’s the ghosts of the past.

After escaping Arkadia-7, Myst is left with nothing but fragmented memories and a name that no longer feels like her own. The government may have lost their prized experiment, Blue Rose, but the damage has already been done. Struggling to recover from the mind control that nearly erased her humanity, Myst finds herself caught between the Clan’s growing resistance and the haunting truth of who—or what—she was created to be.

But she isn’t the only one changed by the war. As the Clan prepares to strike back against the government’s growing influence, an unsettling presence begins to rise from the shadows. A weapon perfected through pain. The government has never been one to waste a valuable experiment.

And some projects never truly end.

Codename: Midnight Thorn

Back at the hideout, the air was still heavy with the aftermath of the mission. Cipher was already at his workstation, decoding the files they had retrieved. The others dispersed, tending to their wounds or settling into their routines.

But Myst couldn't shake the weight pressing against her chest.

She found herself sitting alone near the edge of the hideout's main hall, absently turning a small gear between her fingers—a habit she hadn't realized she'd picked up until now.

For once, there was no mission, no immediate orders. Just silence.

Echo slid into the seat across from her, draping his arms over the backrest like he had all the time in the world. "You look like someone who's about three seconds away from punching a wall."

Myst let out a slow breath. "Not in the mood, Echo."

"Which is exactly why I'm here." He tilted his head, studying her. "You get like this when there's nothing to do. Too much quiet. Too much thinking."

She tapped the gear against the table, her grip tightening. "You ever feel like something's missing, even when everything's in place?"

Echo's usual smirk softened just a fraction. "Yeah. More times than I care to count."

Myst exhaled, eyes dropping to her hands. "It's like I keep waiting for something that isn't coming back."

Echo didn't need to ask who she meant. Instead, he leaned forward, voice quieter now. "Flux was a hell of a lot of things. A pain in the ass, for sure. But also…" He shrugged. "Hard to let go of."

She swallowed hard. "Yeah."

He let out a slow breath, his usual lightness absent. "You know, back when the Ascended took you, there was a moment when things got… complicated."

Myst frowned. "What do you mean?"

Echo hesitated before continuing. "Some of us—hell, even Razor—weren't sure if we could afford to go after you. It was a risk, a huge one. The Ascended had you locked down, and for a second, it felt like there was no way to get you back."

Myst stared at him, an uneasy weight settling in her chest. "You almost left me."

Echo shook his head. "He didn't let us."

"Flux lost it. I mean, really lost it. I thought he was gonna take everyone's heads off."

Echo let out a short laugh, but there was no humor in it. "He told us if we weren't going after you, he'd do it alone. Said we could keep pretending we don't need you, but he's not giving you up."

"He made us see what we'd lost. Who we'd lost." Echo's voice softened. "And we followed him. Because he was right. Because you were worth it."

She swallowed hard. "And now he's gone."

Echo was quiet for a moment. Then, "So what do you think he'd be saying now?"

Myst clenched her fists, her pulse hammering in her ears.

"Whatever it is," Echo continued, watching her carefully, "I doubt it's 'give up.'"

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, Echo let the silence settle before smirking. "Besides, if you start brooding too much, I'll be forced to do something drastic. Like force you to hear me sing. You really don't like that."

Despite herself, Myst huffed out a quiet laugh.

"There it is." Echo grinned. "And my job here is done."

Once Echo left, Myst remained where she was, arms resting on her knees as she gazed out at the skyline. The city stretched before her, distant and indifferent, as if it hadn't noticed everything she lost.

She rolled the small gear between her fingers again, lost in thought. The past wouldn't let go of her.

And maybe, deep down, she didn't want it to.

She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, feeling the cold bite of the night air against her skin. The memories of Flux weren't just painful—they were proof that he had been real.

That he had mattered. And that she had mattered to him.

Myst opened her eyes and tucked the gear into her pocket. Maybe she couldn't move forward just yet. But she could stand up. And for now, maybe that was enough.

SHOULD I BE HONEST?