Chapter 107

Rhea drove all night to the first Eden lab—abandoned, scorched from the inside out. She carried Kaia strapped close to her chest, her daughter alert and silent. When they reached the underground level, Rhea heard it: Lex's voice, echoing down the hall. But when she reached the room, he was standing in front of a mirror, speaking to himself—or rather, to the reflection that answered him in sync, then half a beat out of sync. "You don't have to fight," the reflection said. "You're tired. I'm not." Lex's real self shook. "You're not me." But the reflection smiled with his face. "I'm the version of you that was always capable. I'm what Muri made you." Rhea stepped into the room. "Let him go." Lex turned, slowly. His expression was blank, but his eyes—his eyes were glowing violet again. Not just once. Constant. "You shouldn't have come," he said. But it wasn't his voice. It was hers—Nine's. Cool. Female. Wearing Lex like a coat. Kaia stared at him and then reached out a hand. "Daddy's not gone," she whispered. "He's inside." For the first time, Lex's body trembled. A flicker of resistance. "Don't let her win," Rhea said urgently. "Lex, fight her!" But the man in front of them only tilted his head and smiled coldly. "Why would I fight myself?"

Then Kaia did something no one expected. She blinked. Once. Slowly. And the symbols from the Eden network burst across the mirror's surface—runes only she could make. The reflection screamed. The light in Lex's eyes pulsed—then shattered into flickering white static. Lex dropped to his knees, hands clutching his head. "She's… she's still inside." Rhea ran forward, cradling him as Kaia stepped back, exhausted but awake. The violet light faded. Lex looked up, eyes wet, voice his again. "She's not gone. She's deeper now. She's waiting." Kaia curled against Rhea's chest, eyes already fluttering shut. "She's dreaming through him," the baby whispered. "And she's not alone."