42. The Blood Thread

Elara couldn't breathe.

Subject Nine stared at her with eyes she knew too well. Not just in color, but in how they held a storm behind their calm. The kind of storm she had seen in her own reflection for years.

Damien's voice was low but sharp. "We're surrounded. Four, no, five, Replicants. Armed. Watching."

Nova lifted her rifle slowly, her eyes not leaving the flickering shadows. "This is a trap."

Subject Nine looked horrified. "No! I didn't bring them, I swear! They just… follow. They always follow."

Elara stepped closer, her voice trembling but firm. "Why do you look like me?"

His lips parted, confusion overtaking fear. "Because I was made from you."

Behind them, a cold mechanical voice sliced through the air like a knife:

"Target Elara-Prime located. Orders updated: Extraction and elimination of rogue units."