Chapter 23: Cell 7

Aadi snapped awake, the hum in his chest a searing jolt, his scars flaring as if etched anew. He wasn't in the misty woods of the east ridge—no pines, no dawn's chill, no echo of Manisha's pipe or Neha's notebook. Instead, he lay on a cold steel cot, wrists bound with zip ties that bit into his skin, the air sharp with antiseptic and rust. His calf pulsed, a fresh welt layered over older scars, blood crusted beneath rough bandages. The hum thrummed erratically, a desperate cry—wrong, this is wrong. He was in a cell—steel walls, no windows, a flickering bulb overhead casting jagged shadows across a bolted table and a locked door marked with a scratched "7."

The memory of east ridge surged—Manisha's fierce swing, Neha's desperate grab for the laptop, bullets ripping through the mist, his scream as the hum ignited, darkness clawing him under. He'd tried to reset, but this wasn't the dawn loop he knew. Axiom had him, and the hum's frantic wail screamed of a deeper trap. Where were Manisha and Neha? The thought twisted his gut, the hum urging—find them, fight, loop again.

The door clanged open, and a man stepped in—mid-30s, strikingly handsome, with short blond hair and clear blue eyes that held a quiet, almost gentle calm. His face was smooth, his voice a soft American drawl, warm like a steady heart despite the cell's cold. He wore a plain dark jacket, no Axiom markings, hands loose at his sides, exuding a disarming ease that clashed with the hum's warning flare. Aadi's scars tingled—danger, maybe—but the man's presence felt like a hand extended, not a blade drawn.

"Hey, you're up," the man said, his voice low and friendly, a faint smile curving his lips as he leaned against the table. "Had me worried, kid. You were out cold." His blue eyes softened, studying Aadi with concern, not calculation, though a shadow flickered in them—something haunted, broken.

Aadi yanked at the zip ties, pain sparking in his wrists, the hum roaring—Manisha, Neha, where? "Who are you?" he rasped, throat dry, voice rough. "Where am I? My friends—are they okay?"

The man raised a hand, palm open, his tone steadying. "Easy, Aadi. Name's Alex. You're in Cell 7—one of Axiom's holes, not the ridge you were gunning for. Your friends, Manisha and Neha? They're alive, locked up close by. I've seen 'em—tough as hell, those two." He smiled again, warmer now, like he admired their fight. "I'm not your enemy, I swear."

Aadi's pulse hammered, the hum flickering—alive, they're alive. But trust was a blade's edge. 

"You're Axiom," he spat, eyes narrowing. "Like Shade, like Kael. Why should I believe you?"

Alex's smile faded, a flicker of pain crossing his face, his calm voice dipping with something raw. 

"Axiom made me, yeah, but I'm not their dog. I'm an anomaly—born from their labs, engineered to be perfect." He tapped his chest, then his temple, his blue eyes clouding. "Except I'm not. My flaw's up here—my mind fractures, memories slip, whole days vanish. I'm a broken clock, Aadi, but I'm still ticking. And you…" He leaned closer, his voice soft, almost awed. "You're like me—a glitch they can't control. That reset trick of yours, right?"

Aadi froze, the hum screaming—he knows. His mind raced—Ramesh's notebook, the resets, scars piling with every loop. "I don't know what you're talking about," he lied, forcing his voice steady. "I'm just quick—reflexes, nothing else."

Alex chuckled, a warm sound that didn't mock, his eyes crinkling with understanding. "Come on, man. I've seen the footage—biscuit factory, east ridge. You dodge death like it's a dance. 

Ramesh's files called it—'temporal anomalies.' Your dad was onto something big, and it's you." He straightened, his voice earnest. "I'm not here to break you, Aadi. I want to help."

Aadi's chest tightened, the hum surging with grief and doubt—Ramesh knew? "Help? You're in their cell, wearing their gear. If you're a friend, get us out."

Alex's calm cracked, frustration flashing in his blue eyes, but his voice stayed gentle. "It's not that simple. Axiom's got eyes everywhere—cameras, guards. I'm slipping through cracks, same as you. My flaw… it messes with their control, gives me moments to think for myself. I saw what they did to Ramesh, what they're planning for you. They're scared, Aadi—your resets could unravel them."

The speaker in the corner crackled, a cold female voice slicing through—"Alex, report. Extract his intel—now."

Alex's jaw tightened, his eyes flicking to the speaker, then back to Aadi, a silent plea in them. 

"They're listening," he whispered, barely audible, his calm voice threading with urgency. "Play along, give me something small—I'll keep your friends safe, I swear. Truth for truth, okay?"

Aadi's mind spun, the hum a lifeline—he's different, but how far? "Why risk it?" he asked, voice low, testing. "What's in it for you?"

Alex leaned closer, his voice a fervent murmur. "Freedom. Axiom's rotting—cells fighting cells, trust crumbling. Ramesh saw it, wrote it— break them.' You're a spark, Aadi. You and your friends could burn them down. I want out, same as you." His eyes held Aadi's, raw and steady, a man caught in his own cage.

The hum pulsed, a spark of hope—he's an anomaly, like me. "Alright," Aadi said, voice steady but guarded. "Truth for truth. My… instincts kick in when it's bad—makes me faster, sharper. 

That's all I know. Now you—where's Manisha and Neha, exactly?"

Alex nodded, a flicker of relief in his eyes. "Fair. They're in Cell 4, two doors down—guarded, but alive, patched up. Manisha's pissed, Neha's plotting. Sounds right?" He flashed a small grin, like he admired their spirit.

Aadi's throat tightened, the hum steadying—they're fighting. "Yeah. Sounds right."

The speaker blared again—"Alex, enough chatter. Dose him."

Alex's hand moved to his jacket, pulling a syringe gun, but his fingers hesitated, his blue eyes locking on Aadi's. "I'm not dosing you," he whispered, tucking it away. "But I've got to play their game a bit longer. Hang tight—trouble's brewing out there." He nodded toward the door, where a faint clang echoed—metal on metal, a muffled shout.

Aadi's heart leapt, the hum flaring—Manisha. "What's that?"

Alex's grin returned, a spark of defiance in his calm. "Your friends, probably. They don't quit, do they?" He moved to the door, his voice low. "Stay sharp, Aadi. You're not alone in this." He slipped out, the lock clicking, leaving Aadi bound but burning with resolve.

The hum roared, scars pulsing—Manisha, Neha, Alex. Axiom's cage was cracking, and Alex's flaw, his fractured mind, was a mirror to Aadi's resets—a spark to ignite their fight. The hum vowed—loop if you must, but break them first.