Location: Marco's Private Suite — Elara Estate
The storm outside hadn't stopped.
Marco stood in front of the fireplace, his white shirt unbuttoned halfway, revealing the fresh scar near his collarbone—the one he earned weeks ago protecting Alethea. Yet tonight, something heavier than pain clung to his chest.
His mind replayed the image of Nyx.
Not just her presence—but the words she left behind.
"He'll have to choose, too."
What did she mean?
Behind him, the door creaked open.
Alethea entered silently. Her dark hair was still damp, and her black combat suit clung to her curves. She looked both powerful and exhausted. She closed the door without a word and leaned her back against it.
Their eyes met.
A beat passed. Then another.
"You froze for a second," she said.
Marco didn't deny it.
"She looked like you," he finally answered. "The way she moved. Her eyes."
"She's not me."
"I know."
Silence stretched again.
But Alethea stepped forward. "Do you?"
He turned sharply. "Don't start."
"I saw the way you looked at her."
Marco's jaw clenched. "You think I was—what? Distracted?"
Alethea's voice was low, nearly trembling. "I think... you're scared of what she reminds you of. Me."
He walked up to her, close enough that their breath tangled. "Don't confuse recognition with doubt. I didn't hesitate because I wanted her. I hesitated because I saw how close I came to losing you again."
Her gaze faltered, but only for a moment. "She's going to use your guilt. Use me to get to you."
"Then let her try."
He pressed his hand to the wall beside her, his body hovering near but not touching.
"I've made my choice, Alethea," he said, voice a low thunder. "I chose you the day I buried my sins and swore I'd never lie to you again. I'm not afraid of Nyx. I'm afraid of losing this—us."
She searched his eyes. "Even if I become what she was created to be?"
Marco didn't flinch.
"Then we burn the world together."
Their lips met—rough, desperate, honest. It wasn't passion. It was war. A pact sealed through trembling mouths and clenched hearts.
---
Location: Secret Wing — Elaran Archives
Meanwhile, Omega stood in front of a massive screen. A dozen encrypted files blinked in red. One word repeated over and over:
PROJECT: ECHOED BLOODLINE
He tapped one file.
Subject: Nyx A-93
Origin: Engineered from Subject Alethea's DNA
Objective: Mirror Evolution
Mission: Terminate Original / Replace in Bloodline Protocol
Omega's eyes narrowed.
She wasn't just made to kill Alethea.
She was made to become her.
And worse…
Another blinking line appeared:
Subject B-94: [NAME REDACTED] — Status: UNKNOWN — Presumed ACTIVE
His fingers flew over the keyboard.
There wasn't just one clone.
There were more.
---
Location: The Cathedral — Southern France
Nyx stood before a gilded mirror, admiring a crimson dress. Behind her, an old man in a silver robe lit candles around the altar.
"She suspects now," Nyx said, staring at her own reflection.
The man spoke softly. "She's not your concern."
"Oh, but she is," Nyx smirked. "Because the moment she realizes I'm not her opposite… but her future, she'll break."
"And what of Marco Walker?"
Nyx's smile deepened. "He'll come willingly. All kings do when the queen stops playing nice."
TBC..................