The plane soared through the clouds, smooth and steady.
Adanna sat by the window, silent.
The base was gone now — wiped, dark, erased from every system. She hadn't told Malcolm or Silas what she saw in full. Not yet.
There were things you didn't share out loud.
Things you had to carry so no one else had to.
Malcolm finally broke the silence.
"You okay?"
Adanna didn't answer right away.
Then: "I think so."
He studied her. "You don't sound sure."
"I've never not been running before," she said. "It's strange."
Silas looked up from his screen.
"You're not just free, Adanna. You're untraceable. There's no more protocol. No retrievals. No Cade. No ghosts."
"Except the ones I remember," she murmured.
Silas nodded, quiet.
Malcolm leaned back in his seat. "So what now?"
"I don't know," Adanna admitted. "Maybe… I just live for a while."
They landed in a quiet coastal city.
No cameras. No files. Just ocean and time.
Adanna found a place by the sea — not hidden, not armored. Just simple.
She planted herbs in a pot on the balcony.
She walked barefoot on the wooden floors.
She read books that had nothing to do with war or strategy.
And some mornings, she just… watched the waves.
One afternoon, Silas visited.
"You ever going to write it down?" he asked.
"What?"
"Everything. What happened. What you were. What you are."
She looked at her hands.
"I don't know if the world's ready."
"Maybe it never will be," he said. "But you are."
That night, Adanna sat by her window again.
And for the first time in her life, the silence didn't scare her.
She whispered into the darkness, not afraid:
"I was a weapon once. A code. A project. A mistake."
She smiled faintly.
"Now, I'm a person."
The sky above her was clear.
No drones. No satellites.
Just stars.
She looked up and whispered the final truth:
"I'm nobody's creation anymore."