CHAPTER 13 AXEL

The message kept flickering on the screen like it was mocking me.

"She's not done. HQ compromised. They're not who you think. TRUST NO ONE. —L"

I stared at it while El hunched over the console, jaw clenched, eyes unreadable. Her silence was louder than the message.

I felt sick.

SPECTRA HQ. The message had come from inside. Either Louis had lost his mind… or someone was wearing his face like a mask.

El didn't speak. Just leaned back in the rusted chair, arms crossed, calculating.

I recognized the look—it was the same one she wore when scanning battlefield terrain, looking for exits, traps, weaknesses.

I wondered, uneasily, if she was scanning him this time.

"You said she didn't have access to your memories," she finally said, voice low.

I swallowed hard. "She didn't. Not directly. I partitioned the data—encrypted everything. I swear."

She didn't respond. She didn't have to.

Because the truth was, i wasn't sure anymore.

I remembered working on the replica late at night, bleeding code and caffeine into a being that should've been nothing more than a shell.

But i hadn't just coded logic. I had poured in emotion—my emotion. Fragmented guilt. Longing. Memories of El in combat, in training, laughing once, long ago. Things i never meant to give her, but did. Accidentally.

Or maybe… not entirely by accident.

"If she got to Louis," El said, still watching the screen, "she can get to anyone."

Including me, i thought, but didn't dare say.

The rain outside was a steady drumbeat, like a clock ticking toward something inevitable.

I couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't a race to stop the replica anymore.

It was a race to figure out who was real.

---

Then she stood.

Abrupt. Controlled. Like a soldier receiving orders from a ghost.

"Pack everything. We leave in ten."

"Wait—where?"

"HQ."

She slung a pulse rifle over her shoulder like it weighed nothing. Her face was all sharp edges now.

"That's a suicide run, El. If she's in there—if they're compromised—"

"Then I need to burn it down before they erase what's left of me."

She looked at me then—and something in her eyes made his throat tighten.

"Unless that's what you want."

My breath caught. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You built her." Her voice didn't rise, but it landed like a strike. "You didn't mean to… maybe. But you did. And part of you… part of you wants to see what she becomes, don't you?"

My hands curled into fists at my sides. I wanted to argue, to deny it, to swear that wasn't true.

But what if it was?

What if some part of me—some broken, buried part—was curious?

What if i made her not just to mimic El... but to replace her?

El grabbed the comms unit, shoved it in the bag, and moved to the door without another word.

"You coming?" she said without looking back, "Or should I add you to my list too?"

I followed her.

And tried not to wonder which El he was walking beside.