The waves whispered secrets against the rocks outside the coastal estate. The sea looked calm too calm stretching endlessly under a silvery morning mist. But inside the estate, the silence was no longer peaceful. It was thick with unsaid things, tension that curled like vines around each room.
Elara stood barefoot on the balcony outside her suite, arms folded tight around her chest, eyes fixed on the horizon. The wind toyed with her hair, but she didn't move.
She hadn't slept. Neither had Aeron.
She felt him before she heard him his presence always stirred something inside her, something she couldn't name. He stepped out quietly, holding a blanket in one hand and a flask of warmed kaff in the other.
"You'll freeze out here," he murmured.
"I've been colder," she replied.
A beat passed.
Aeron gently draped the blanket over her shoulders and stood beside her, sipping from the flask. "You didn't answer me last night."
"I didn't know how," she admitted. "You asked if I trust you. I still don't know."
He didn't flinch. "Fair."
"But I want to." Her voice cracked. "That counts for something, doesn't it?"
His eyes met hers, unreadable. "It counts."
They stood together in silence, two survivors who had bled for truths neither of them asked to inherit.
Downstairs, a window slammed shut on its own.
Elara blinked. "Did you hear that?"
Aeron nodded. "Let's go."
The main hallway of the estate was still draped in early morning shadow. Nova sat on the edge of the marble stairwell, a dismantled pulse rifle in her lap. She looked up as Elara and Aeron entered, eyes narrowed.
"That sound?" Nova asked.
"North wing," Elara said.
Nova rose, slinging the weapon over her shoulder. "I already swept it at dawn. Found a broken camera in the east corridor. It wasn't broken last night."
Aeron's jaw clenched. "We've been compromised."
Damien appeared from the study, tapping on his datapad. "There's a hidden access port beneath the library. Old system, pre-Architect era, but someone's rerouted surveillance through it in the last twelve hours."
"Inside job?" Elara asked.
Valen leaned against the archway behind them, arms crossed. "Or a guest we didn't know we had."
The group moved as one toward the library.
Bookshelves towered over them, a strange comfort in a world defined by cold steel and digital chaos. Aeron ran his fingers along the edge of the far wall, stopping near a cracked molding.
"Here."
With a quiet click, a panel slid open, revealing a dark crawlspace and an old terminal glowing faintly in the gloom.
Damien crouched beside it. "This was activated remotely. Someone's been watching us—and not from outside."
"Then they're still here," Nova said flatly.
Elara stepped back, every instinct on alert. "Sweep the estate. Room by room."
In the west corridor, Elara paused before a door she hadn't opened since they'd arrived.
Voss's room.
He'd been given it temporarily, before the group went to retrieve him from Arkos Belt. Now it stood locked. Dustless. Almost... staged.
A hunch tugged at her gut.
She keyed the door open.
Inside: empty furniture, neat bedsheets, and a cracked mirror. Nothing else.
Except—
A faint shimmer in the corner. A lens, barely visible, cloaked by refractive shielding.
Elara moved toward it.
A hand caught her wrist.
She spun.
It was Aeron, but his expression was strange. Tense. Controlled.
"Elara," he said quietly, "there's someone in the estate."
"I know," she replied. "And they've been here longer than we thought."
A flicker passed through his eyes. "We need to get out. Now."
Elara didn't move. "Why are you nervous?"
His grip tightened. "Because I think I know who it is."
She yanked free and stepped back, watching him closely. "Then tell me."
Aeron's voice dropped. "It's... my brother."
They gathered in the secure room in the east wing Elara, Aeron, Damien, Nova, and Valen. Elara repeated what Aeron had told her. That the Architects created two parallel seeds, himself and another, engineered to serve as checks against each other.
A failsafe built into flesh.
"I thought he died," Aeron said. "Years ago. We were activated in the same facility. Trained. Tested. They made us compete. But only one of us was chosen."
"And the other?" Nova asked.
"He vanished."
Valen's eyes sharpened. "If he's here, he's not a brother. He's a weapon."
Elara turned to Aeron. "What does he want?"
Aeron didn't answer immediately. His voice was raw when he finally spoke. "I think he wants me back."
Night fell like a curtain drawn too fast.
In the estate's security room, Damien worked at the terminal. Lines of code ran wild across the screen, someone was manipulating their systems again. And this time, it was personal.
"He's toying with us," Damien muttered. "He wants to be found."
Elara paced behind him, muscles taut. "Or he wants us divided."
Nova's voice crackled over comms. "Movement in the courtyard. Lone figure. Masked."
They rushed to the window.
There, among the swaying palms and moonlit tiles, stood a silhouette in dark armor, half-shadow, half-man. He didn't move.
Elara turned to Aeron. "Is it him?"
Aeron nodded slowly. "It's him."
They didn't need a plan.
They moved.
The courtyard was too quiet, even with the sea roaring just beyond the cliff.
Elara stepped forward, Aeron beside her. The figure watched them without raising a weapon.
"Name," Elara demanded.
The man's voice was calm. Low. Familiar.
"I am Unit 14-Rho. Designate: Kael."
He removed his helmet.
Aeron's face stared back at them, older, colder, unscarred.
"I was the prototype," Kael said. "You were the echo."
"You shouldn't be alive," Aeron whispered.
"I never died. I was repurposed."
Kael's gaze shifted to Elara. "You're the corruption. You made him weak."
Elara didn't flinch. "He chose to be human."
Kael smiled. "Then let's see how far that gets you."
He vanished into the mist.
A moment later, the estate's power grid failed.
Alarms pulsed. Emergency lights painted the halls in crimson. The crew scrambled to secure the perimeter.
But in a hidden hallway near the servant's quarters, Elara and Aeron found themselves alone.
The chaos outside faded for a heartbeat.
He reached for her. "If I lose myself—"
"I'll bring you back," she whispered, pressing her forehead to his. "Even if I have to fight every version of you they made."
His hands trembled on her waist. "What if you fall first?"
She kissed him.
It wasn't soft.
It was war.
And in that kiss, something shifted resolve tightening, fear melting into defiance.
Outside, Kael watched from the shadows.
And smiled.