Chapter 28: Breach Pulse

Ava sat beside Rian again, tracing the scorched pattern on the bunker wall—blackened metal veins where the resonance had burned through.

Across the room, Elliot cursed softly under his breath, coaxing half-melted circuits to cough up data from a handheld reader. "Half the circuits are fried," he muttered. "But I got fragments. Echoes. He's not leaking—he's resonating backward."

Elren returned from perimeter sweep—his boots dusted gray, the collar of his coat turned up. He walked quietly, then settled down just across from Ava without a word. She looked up.

Their eyes met.

Neither said anything, but the air felt heavier between them.

Something had shifted.

And neither of them quite knew what to do with it.

—---

Rian remained unconscious, his brow slick with fever-sweat. They took turns watching him—four-hour shifts, no argument.

When it was Elren's turn, the bunker was quiet except for the hum of the backup generator.

Rian stirred. Twitched.

Then whispered, low and ragged:

 "You hated the rain. Not because it's wet. Because it made you remember him."

Elren froze.

He didn't breathe for a second. Didn't move.

The boy's eyes were closed. Still dreaming. Still somewhere else.

But the words were precise.

Too precise.

Elren sat back slowly, hands curling into fists, his throat tight.

Rian had reached into a corner of him no one was supposed to know.

—--

During Ava's shift, Rian mumbled again. His voice cracked.

"Please… don't put me back in the tank. Please—don't make me forget again."

Ava swallowed hard.

She reached out, brushed damp hair from his forehead, and whispered,

 "You're not in a tank. You're safe. I'm here."

Her fingers lingered. And for a moment, she looked like she might cry.

But she didn't.

—--

Flashback Echo — Fragmented Memory

The next time Rian stirred, the resonance flared.

Brief, chaotic flashes surged from him—and for a second, Elliot caught it on the scanner.

A memory, or something close.

A chamber flooded with liquid. Cold restraints across small limbs. A voice:

 "Stabilize him or we reset."

A child screaming—then silence.

More than one scream.

Only one survived.

—--

He came slowly, blinking under a haze of pain. His voice was hoarse.

"My name's Rian. That's all I remember, that's mine."

Ava sat close. Calm. Steady. "That's enough."

He looked at her, guilt etched deep. "Am I still dangerous?"

She didn't flinch. "You're still healing. That's not the same thing."

Elren stood in the shadows behind her—watching. Protective. Haunted.

—--

Later, when the fever eased, Rian whispered, "I could feel everything. Even when I wasn't awake."

Ava sat cross-legged across from him, elbows on knees. "What did you feel?"

"Fear," he said. "So much fear. But yours wasn't for yourself."

She hesitated. Then told him, quietly, about the brother she once had.

How fear took him away before the system ever could.

Rian asked, "You still believe in people?"

She shrugged. "Not all of them. Just enough to make the risk worth it."

—--

Nightfall

Outside, under the shattered canopy of an old supply hall, Ava sat alone—knees hugged to her chest.

She heard Elren approach before he spoke. He sat beside her.

"You shouldn't keep carrying it alone," he said.

She smiled faintly. "Neither should you."

For a while, they just breathed in silence.

Then Elren spoke, voice low. "I stood by the system once. I buried someone because of it."

Ava turned toward him, gaze steady. "But you're still here. Still part of us."

He didn't look away. "Because I found someone I couldn't watch break the same way."

Her breath caught—but she didn't respond right away.

They sat close. Shoulders almost touching.

Almost.

But not yet.

—--

Inside, Elliot finally managed to stabilize part of the memory fragment.

His voice carried into the corridor. "There's something buried in his data stream. Codename: Ghost Key."

Ava walked back in, brows furrowed. "Sounds made up."

"It's not. It was tied to Grave-class anomalies. Deep-classified project. Wiped from the system twenty-one cycles ago."

He turned the scanner toward them.

"This kid isn't just a subject. He's the fail-safe to something they tried to erase."

Ava looked at Rian, asleep again in the corner.

For the first time, her fear wasn't for him.

It was for what might be following him.

-----

A warning ping buzzed in Elren's comm device.

Encrypted. But the meaning was clear.

He stared at it, jaw tightening.

"We're burned," he said. "Bounty just dropped. Open target. Disavowed."

Ava turned sharply. "You mean they're hunting us?"

"They're not hunting," Elren said grimly. "They're cleaning up."

At that exact moment, a faint click echoed across the room.

The dead drone in the corner sparked back to life—eyes flaring red.

Rian jolted upright—instinct, not thought—and the floor vibrated.

Resonance bled from him like a pressure wave. Lights shattered.

Ava grabbed his hand. "Easy. You're okay."

But he was already on his feet.

"I won't be the reason we stay still," he said.

-----

They packed fast.

Elliot dumped data cores into a salvage pouch. Elren cleared the emergency route—an old maintenance tunnel, half-collapsed but still passable.

Rian stood between Ava and Elren, steady now. Not fully recovered. But aware.

They ran.

Just before exiting, the still-activated drone flickered—its lens glitched once, scanning Elren.

—-

Cutaway — Central Command

High above, behind the sealed walls of Central Command, Vance was no longer watching the relay footage in real time.

He had seen enough.

He knew it was them.

Ava Lin.

Elliot Stroud.

And Elren Vayne.

The footage showed Elren clearly—sword raised, eyes locked forward as they escaped.

But Vance had shifted screens.

Not to track.

To end.

A private channel opened—isolated, not part of protocol. He typed in the override himself.

Access: personal.

Access: direct.

Fail-Safe Authorization Requested.

Code Confirmed.

A dormant file opened.

Codename: ILEX

Status: Deep Containment — Neural Suppression Active.

No name. No rank. No expiration.

Just the image of a young man, suspended in stasis—breathing, monitored, untouched for years.

Vance stared at the face on screen.

There was no hesitation.

He remembered when he assigned Ilex to Elren.

He remembered what it cost.

And more importantly—he remembered what broke.

He activated a manual line. One officer—no more.

"Begin neural reactivation. Slowly. No public logs. This isn't system business."

"But Commander Sira—"

"Will proceed as planned," Vance cut in. "This is insurance."

He looked once more at the stilled face on screen.

Elren's old partner.

The one the system forced him to leave behind.

"If Vayne stands… Lin survives. But if Vayne fractures—She falls with him."

Vance allowed himself a small, knowing smile.

"Let's see how deep his loyalty runs."