The Host Who Wouldn’t Die

Argus held his stance, back against the server rack, gun leveled toward the stairwell.

The voice echoed again calm, assured, no fear in it.

"Leave the files, Cutter. Walk out clean."

Chen stayed crouched beside the terminal, one eye on Derrick, who was slumped behind the console, still nursing his leg. Her gun was up. Steady.

"Three of them," she whispered. "One with a rifle. Other two are flanking."

Argus nodded once. Barely moved.

Then: "You're not MANTIS."

"No," the voice replied. "They stopped paying attention when this version of the program lost funding. We kept going."

"Who's we?"

The man stepped into view.

Black coat. No badge. Civilian gear. A sidearm with no serial marks. No insignia. His eyes didn't blink when they landed on Argus.

"We're the ones who didn't stop when Pandora said Theta failed," he said. "And we're here for what you just took."

Chen didn't lower her weapon. "The host logs?"

"They don't belong to you."

Argus kept his pistol raised. "And what belongs to you? The body? Or the ghost you shoved inside it?"

The man didn't flinch. "You think this is about morals? It's math. We mapped dead minds. You were supposed to collapse. So was Reyes. But he didn't."

"Reyes is fracturing," Argus said. "You built a broken identity engine and hoped no one noticed when it started to bleed."

"He's not bleeding. He's adapting. It's ugly, but he's learning how to keep them all."

Argus stepped forward. "That's not survival. That's viral."

The man shrugged. "Maybe that's what we need now."

He gestured toward the hard drive clipped to Argus's belt.

"Hand it over."

Argus reached into his pocket slowly.

Pulled out a burner phone.

Tossed it across the floor.

It clacked once and slid to a stop between them.

The man looked down.

"I already uploaded the files," Argus said. "Remote node. Touch me, and everything in that drive hits federal records in an hour."

One of the men flanking the stairs raised his weapon slightly.

The speaker held up a hand.

"Stand down," he said. "He's bluffing. But not stupid."

He looked back at Argus.

"You don't want Theta in the wild. Not like this."

"Then control it," Argus said. "Before someone else figures out how to trigger another one."

"You think we're the only ones who built off Pandora?" The man chuckled. "There are seven forks. Only two are still intact. Theta was just the first to escape containment."

Chen's voice cut in. "Then why are you here? If you still have a leash on him?"

The man's smile faded.

"We don't," he said.

Silence stretched too long.

Then he tossed something toward Argus. It slid across the floor a small black ID chip, worn at the edges.

Argus caught it, flipped it over.

THETA HOST: J. REYES

STATUS: BREACHED / COMPARTMENTALIZED

DANGER RATING: UNKNOWN

"You won't kill him," the man said. "You'll find him. Or he'll find you. That's the only way this ends."

"You really think I'm going to just walk out and let you clean up the rest?" Argus asked.

"No," the man replied. "That's why I'm giving you one hour."

He stepped back, fading into the stairwell shadow.

"One hour to disappear. After that, Theta doesn't care what name's in your head."

Chen exhaled, pistol still up. "He's serious."

Argus pocketed the chip, eyes scanning the stairwell one last time. No movement. No more words.

They were gone.

Only the buzzing of the server fans remained.

Derrick pushed himself up on the crate. "Theta's not just unstable. He's... splitting. When I was under, they used to talk about ghost leakage. Personalities left behind after an overwrite. Most vanish. A few stick. The ones that do... start talking."

Chen looked at Argus. "You think he's talking to himself?"

"No," Argus said. "I think he's listening."

She frowned.

"To who?"

Argus walked over to the terminal and tapped into the backup feed they copied earlier. Chen stepped beside him, watching the screen load.

Security footage. Midtown.

Detective Jonah Reyes walking into his precinct. Timestamp: three days ago.

Five minutes later, a second Reyes walks out a side entrance.

Then another through the lobby.

All had matching biometrics. Different behavior. Different clothes. Different expressions.

"Three fragments," Argus muttered. "Same shell. Different minds."

"Which one's real?" Chen asked.

Argus stared at the screen.

"None of them."

Chen's burner buzzed again. She looked down.

New Message: REYES 1: "You left something behind, Cutter."

REYES 2: "Let me give it back."

REYES 3: Live ping. One block away.

Argus leaned over Chen's shoulder as the burner buzzed again.

REYES 3: Live ping. One block away.

The dot blinked on the map just northeast of their position. A side alley off 10th, behind a half-renovated laundry front. The kind of place that didn't get foot traffic unless you were selling something or hiding something.

Chen looked up. "That area's boxed by dead cameras. No street view. No police coverage."

"He wants it that way," Argus said.

Derrick dragged himself to his feet, voice hoarse. "He's not just sending pings. He's baiting. You step into his signal, you step into his pocket."

"We're already in it," Argus said. "We triggered Theta's surveillance node when we cracked the host logs. This isn't him tracking us anymore it's him showing off."

Chen checked the clip in her pistol. "So let's see what he wants."

Argus nodded once. "No split-up. We move together."

They crossed onto 10th in silence, feet crunching through broken glass and damp concrete. The rain had stopped, but the air was thick too still for this part of Brooklyn. No cars passed. No voices. The streetlights were on, but barely humming, casting more shadow than light.

Ahead, the alley entrance was half-covered by a plastic sheet hung from scaffolding. A flicker of neon reflected off puddles beneath it an old CLOSED FOR REPAIR sign, still blinking from a forgotten shop across the street.

Argus held up a hand. Chen slowed behind him, pistol drawn low. Derrick took cover near the building edge, watching the street.

Argus stepped inside.

The alley was narrow trash bins, shattered pallets, the smell of old bleach and something acidic underneath.

Halfway down, the ping shifted.

REYES 3: Location Locked.

His burner vibrated again.

A message popped up.

"ARGUS: Look left."

He did.

A mirror leaned against the wall salvaged from a storefront. Cracked. Bent at the edge.

Argus stepped closer.

His reflection looked back.

Except it wasn't him.

Not exactly.

Same coat. Same jawline. But younger. Leaner. A smirk he hadn't worn in over ten years.

The reflection moved but Argus hadn't.

Then it blinked.

Argus stepped back.

Chen turned the corner fast. "What is it?"

He didn't answer. He pointed at the mirror.

It was empty now.

Just his reflection again. Normal.

"Visual leak," he said. "Someone's syncing memory echoes with optical projection."

"That's not projection," Derrick called from the corner. "That's Theta feeding you a loop."

The burner buzzed again.

"You're not afraid of ghosts, are you, Argus?"

Chen lowered her voice. "He's copying your memories."

"No," Argus muttered. "He's testing them."

Behind them, a soft scrape.

They turned.

At the far end of the alley, a man stood half in shadow. Hoodie up. Shoulders hunched. No visible weapon.

Argus raised his gun.

The man didn't move.

"Jonah Reyes?" Argus called.

The man tilted his head.

Then his voice, soft and chilling:

"Which one?"

Chen flinched.

The man stepped forward, just enough to show half his face. It flickered in the alley's dim glow features pulling too sharply, then settling. Like the software running him couldn't keep up.

"Don't move," Argus said.

The man ignored it.

He reached into his coat, pulled something out, and dropped it on the ground.

A photo.

Chen stepped forward to see it. Froze mid-step.

It was her, maybe twenty, standing beside a man in a lab coat. Not staged. Not doctored. A real moment.

Her voice cracked. "That's my brother."

Argus's eyes narrowed. "That's not possible. Your brother's "

"Dead," Chen said. "He died in a hit-and-run."

The man Reyes, or whatever part of him this was smiled.

"It wasn't a hit-and-run," he said. "It was a requisition."

The words hit like a brick wall.

Argus moved first.

Reyes bolted.

Chen chased close behind. Argus followed.

They turned the alley corner

And stopped.

The street was empty.

No doors open. No vehicles. No sound.

Just the same flickering neon, and the photo still lying face up in the puddle behind them.

Chen stood there, breath frozen. Her hands trembled slightly.

"He knew things," she said. "Stuff no one knew."

Argus picked up the photo, flipped it.

Writing on the back.

"He's next."

Then another vibration in his coat.

Not the burner.

The Pandora drive.

The screen pulsed red.

WARNING: Host Profile Reyes – Fracture Level 4 Triggered

Secondary Identity: UNKNOWN

New Signal Active. Inbound.

Argus stared at the alert, then toward the street.

The fracture wasn't just splitting.

It was moving.

And something else was about to arrive wearing someone else's face.