SophiaThe shrill beeping of my alarm drags me out of sleep. With a groggy sigh, I blink against the dim morning light filtering in through the heavy curtains. My body feels like lead, every limb weighed down by exhaustion. Last night drained me—not just physically but mentally.I stare at the ceiling for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts. So much has changed in the past few weeks. And now, waking up in Alex Carter’s house of all places? That’s another thing I never could have predicted.I glance at my phone. No time to waste. My schedule is packed, and the last thing I need is to start the day feeling rushed.With a deep breath, I force myself out of bed. The guest room I’ve been given is luxurious, far too refined for someone just crashing for the night. Everything here is polished, elegant, and intimidatingly perfect. I half expect a hotel concierge to knock and ask if I need room service.Dragging my tired body to the bathroom, I flip on the light, rubbing my eyes before taki
SophiaThe campus hums with life as students rush to their classes, backpacks slung over their shoulders, coffee cups in hand. I adjust the strap of my bag, clutching my schedule tightly as I scan the building numbers. Lecture Hall 5. I have no idea where it is.I stop a passing student, a tall guy with headphones around his neck. “Excuse me, do you know where Lecture Hall 5 is?”He barely glances at me, pointing vaguely to the left. “That way. Third building on the right.”“Thanks,” I say, but he’s already walking away.I hurry in the direction he pointed, my heels clicking against the pavement. I hate being late, especially on my first day in this class. The Director of Admissions mentioned it’s one of the most competitive courses in the business program. I can’t afford to make a bad impression.I find the building and push through the doors, scanning the room numbers. Lecture Hall 5 is at the end of the hallway. I slip inside just as the clock strikes the hour.The room is nothing
SophiaBy the time my morning classes end, my brain feels overworked. Business ethics had been a debate-heavy session, and my marketing professor spent nearly an hour analyzing case studies that blurred the lines between innovation and manipulation. I should feel invigorated, but I don’t.Maybe it’s the lingering weight of Professor Grayson’s lecture. Or maybe it’s the growing awareness that I don’t truly belong here. At least, not yet.I need a break.The moment I step outside, the crisp air carries the scent of freshly brewed coffee and grilled food. The canteens on campus are bustling, filled with students laughing over meals, some buried in their laptops, others deep in hushed conversations.I pick one that looks both cozy and modern. The large glass windows allow plenty of sunlight inside, and the interior is a blend of soft wooden tones and industrial metal accents. A peaceful place—at least compared to the lecture halls.I step up to the counter and scan the menu. I don’t have
ChloeThe rich aroma of roasted meat fills the kitchen, blending with the scent of the spiced vegetables I just finished sautéing. I stir the sauce one last time, letting the thick mixture coat the back of the spoon before I turn off the stove. Everything is coming together perfectly.Nathan likes it when I do this—when I slip into the role of the perfect wife. He enjoys the idea of a woman who takes care of him, who makes home feel like a sanctuary. Most days, I let the housekeepers handle the domestic details, but tonight is different. Tonight, I need something from him.I glance at the dining table, making sure everything is in place. Candles flicker softly, their glow bouncing off the polished silverware. A bottle of expensive wine sits in the center, ready to be poured. I smirk to myself. This is exactly the kind of setting that puts Nathan in a good mood.Once the final touches are done, I retreat to the bedroom. I take my time in the bathroom, running a hot bath and sinking int
AlexI check my watch again. It’s been over an hour since Sophia was supposed to show up.At first, I tell myself she’s just running late. Maybe something came up—traffic, an extra class, a last-minute errand. But when my calls go unanswered and my messages stay unread, my patience wears thin.Something doesn’t feel right.I grab my car keys and head out, tracking her phone’s location to her new apartment. The logical part of my brain tells me I’m overreacting, but the other part—the one that’s seen how reckless my half-brother, Nathan can be—refuses to take chances.By the time I reach her building, it’s dark. I park haphazardly, slam the door shut, and make my way up. A neighbor, an older woman carrying a bag of groceries, gives me a suspicious look when I stop near her apartment door.“Looking for someone?” she asks.“Sophia Mitchell,” I reply, keeping my voice even. “She moved in recently.”The woman’s expression softens a little. “Ah, the young lady in 3B. I haven’t seen her much
AlexI shrug, completely unapologetic. “Yeah.” She blinks like she can’t decide whether to be mad or impressed. “Are you serious?” she demands. I lean against the counter, arms crossed. “Dead serious.” Sophia lets out a frustrated sound, rubbing her temple. “Alex, do you even hear yourself? That’s a complete invasion of privacy!” I arch an eyebrow. “Says the person who vanishes without warning, ignores all calls and texts, and leaves no explanation.” I tilt my head. “If I were the paranoid type, I’d say you were the one acting suspicious.” She scowls. “I was unpacking. Not running a criminal operation.” “Well, unpacking doesn’t usually involve going completely off the grid.” I wave my phone in front of her. “You didn’t cancel our meeting. You didn’t even check your phone. For all I knew, you could’ve been lying in a ditch somewhere.” Her glare deepens. “So your solution was to track me?” I smirk. “It worked, didn’t it?” Sophia huffs, muttering something under her b
SophiaI lean back against the couch, my half-eaten bowl of noodles sitting forgotten on the coffee table. The air feels different now—not as tense, not as suffocating. Alex is still here, lounging on the other side of the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him, looking way too comfortable for someone who just scolded me for not answering my phone.The weight of everything still presses on me—the lawsuit, the rumors, the way Nathan and Chloe are controlling the public narrative. But I don’t feel as alone in it as I did earlier.“You know,” I say, my voice quieter than I expect, “I never thought I’d be in this position.”Alex glances at me, waiting for me to continue.I shake my head. “Divorced. Fighting for my reputation, my career… my life.”He nods, his expression unreadable. “Life has a way of throwing curveballs.”I scoff. “Yeah. But I’m not giving up. Not this time.”“Good.” His tone is firm, certain. “Because you’re stronger than you think, Mitchell. And you’ve got a
SophiaThe vibration of my phone pulls me out of my morning routine. I glance at the screen, still fastening the buttons on my blouse. A notification. Probably an email from school or a reminder about an assignment.Except it’s not.“Chloe Mitchell invites you to her birthday party! 🎉 Next Saturday at the Grand Haven Hotel! Hope to see you there! 💖”I freeze, blinking at the words. She’s joking, right?A scoff escapes my lips before I can stop it. The nerve of her.For a moment, I just stare at the notification, feeling the irritation bubble up inside me. Chloe, my dear, sweet, perfect sister, inviting me to her birthday party? After everything? For what? To gloat? To pretend like she’s the bigger person? To parade around in front of her fancy guests with Nathan at her side, acting like their perfect little power couple?I roll my eyes and delete the message without a second thought. Absolutely not.And Nathan. He allowed this? He was okay with my sister inviting me? He’s not conten
SophiaThe blades cut through the storm as if they didn't even notice the world was dead.Ember hadn't changed since we took off.She sat across from me... barefoot, still damp from the containment chamber, her hair hanging in tangled sheets down her back like wet silk. The blanket we’d wrapped around her shoulders had slipped to the floor, and she didn’t reach for it. She didn’t need warmth. She wasn’t shivering.She was watching.Me.Alex’s hand brushed mine again.Not gripping.Just reminding.I didn't glance at him. Not because I didn't. But because if I did, if I let my eyes fall into his... I'd tumble into that space we'd been keeping for weeks. The space where I was not a weapon. The space where I was simply. someone who must be held.But I couldn't indulge anymore.Because Ember hadn't blinked once since we left the facility. And I could feel her in my mind. Not like Harrow. Not gentle. Not probing.Like tension behind a wall that might shatter."She hasn't said a word since s
**Sophia**The tempest had moved on, yet the air was still heavy with its aftermath. The observatory was enveloped in a hushed stillness, interrupted only by the gentle buzz of the holo-table and the distant sound of melting snow dripping from the roof. Alex stood next to me, his unwavering presence providing stability in the wake of newfound knowledge.I turned the photograph of Ember over and over in my fingers, its edges soft from my touch. Her eyes haunted me, not for what they revealed, but for what they concealed. An emptiness. A reflection of the aspects of myself I dreaded to confront."Do you think she dreams?" I broke the stillness, my voice barely above a whisper.Alex shot me a sideways glance, his forehead creased in thought. "Dreams?""Ember. In that facility, all alone and stifled... Do you think she dreams?"He paused for a moment. "I'm not sure. But if she does, they’re probably not dreams we could comprehend."I nodded slowly, the weight of doubt pressing down on me.
**Sophia**Fear has a sound.It's not the shriek of terror, a wailing siren, or the sound of bones snapping underfoot. It’s more subtle, more intimate. Like a clock ticking quietly in the background that you only notice when it halts.That was the noise in the safehouse after Bellion slid the image across the table.Phase Zero. Ember.The girl in the picture couldn't have been older than twelve. Barefoot and in an oversized gray shift, her dark, deep-set eyes held a weight... eyes that saw through everything. Eyes that remembered everything they had been forbidden to forget.And she resembled me.No.She was a glimpse of who I might have become if no one had saved me from the flames.For what felt like an eternity, Alex remained silent. He just focused on the photo, his jaw clenched, tension building behind his eyes like a brewing storm.I slowly leaned back, my fingers gliding down my arms to steady myself, though my skin felt alien to me.“She was the first?” I inquired of Bellion
*Sophia*You don’t realize when the world comes to an end.Not all at once. Not in the dramatic ways that stories or alarms or heartfelt prayers suggest. It doesn’t erupt or wail, nor does it even ignite. It simply breathes out. Gently. Like a long-held breath that is finally released.That’s what the merge felt like.Not a blast.A capitulation.When Harrow pressed her palm against mine, I didn’t perceive her skin. I sensed her thoughts. Intruding into my own with the delicateness of a surgeon’s scalpel and the closeness of a memory belonging to someone else, a memory that nonetheless stirred sorrow within me.She wasn’t taking me. She was weaving herself into the voids Elara had left behind.And I... I welcomed her.Because deep down, even before this occurrence, I had always understood.I had never been complete.Not truly.Not since the serum redefined the essence of who I was. Not since Chloe silenced me and Nathan fed that silence with untruths.I had been shattered.Harrow wa
SophiaThe atmosphere remained unchanged.This signaled to me that something was amiss.Even after Harrow's collapse and Bellion's announcement of her being "in stasis" like a weakened deity, the tension did not dissipate. It hung in the air like pre-lightning static, dense, unseen, suffocating.Alex held me still.Not tightly.Just there.As if aware that a tighter grip might break something within me."She mentioned that I passed," I murmured.He stayed motionless. "What exactly were you being evaluated for?"I no longer needed to speculate.I knew."Humanity."Bellion paced by the monitor, manipulating switches that no longer responded. "All primary systems offline," he reported. "But the biometric imprint on this terminal… It's not just Harrow's. It's Sophia's. Intertwined. Overlapped.""What does that imply?" Alex inquired.Bellion turned to me.But his gaze...He wasn't seeing Sophia Mitchell anymore.He was observing an experiment beyond his comprehension."It means," Bellion a
SophiaIt started with the pulse.Not mine.Not even human.But something deep under the skin of the world, like a heartbeat struggling to batter its way out of extinction.We arrived in Zurich under an assumed name again. The city slept, unaware that war was seeping into its veins. I stepped off the plane into cold air that felt heavier than the altitude should have permitted. My skin crawled. My heart failed.Something had changed.No.Something had stirred.Bellion briefed us en route. The override didn’t erase the serum—it unlocked a dormant layer embedded by Elara herself. We’d barely touched the surface of what that meant. But the early fallout was already happening.Serum-enhanced operatives had gone dark in Oslo.Infected research techs in Toronto collapsed during a biometric scan.And in Cairo—a facility leveled in under four minutes. No explosives. No survivors.A few lines of blood on the security room wall:The code is breathing.I didn't know if I had written it.Or if so
SophiaIt didn't start with fire.It started with silence.A silence that didn't just ring in my ears—it sank. Deep. Into my blood, into the marrow of what I was. The command had been given. The override engaged. And for an instant of breathless stillness, the world held its breath around me.Then it began to come apart.Chloe hit the floor first. Her scream wasn't a sound—it was a rupture. A raw tear in the air. Her back was arched impossibly, her hands clawing at the floor as if she could pull herself out of what was happening to her.The serum was acting.But not as expected.Alex caught me as my knees buckled. Not from the override—I wasn't reacting. That was the first warning.I wasn't reacting at all."Sit down," he whispered."I can't," I said.Because if I sat, I wouldn't get up again.If I let go, I might come apart too.Bellion's voice came through over the comm. "Geneva line. Priority intercept."Alex didn't hesitate. He gave me the receiver.Nathan's voice hit me like cold
SophiaGrief is a luxury.I discovered that between the second bullet and the fifth betrayal. Between the coded dreams and the world Vesper hurled at me like jagged teeth. Between the still silent rot beneath my skin, where I lost grieving the woman I thought I was.Now I'm something else.We came into Switzerland on a forged identity. Bellion arranged for the papers, the bribes, the phony names. I didn't want to know how. That's the way men like Bellion operate—they make the evil look methodical. Clean.The air was burning here. Alpine. Pure. Mocking.As if this world had never been tainted by the filth of the serum.But I knew better.The old military camp excavated from the mountain—Codename: Coven—hadn't been left behind. Not precisely. Left behind meant forgotten. But this one had been entombed with precision. Kept intact. Like a grave waiting for its gods to return.Alex remained beside me on the ridge, his coat flapping behind him in the cold wind, his silence a language I coul
SophiaIt reads almost like poetry... betrayal, tastedof iron.I ought to have known. I ought to have noticed it in how Vesper's eyes never seemed to blink, in how her voice never faltered, not even when talking of Elara.... my mother, her protégé. But belief has a way of obscuring instinct. And hope? Hope is the best poison.Now it was too late.The stairwell exploded behind me in a blast of glass and power. I hit the stone hard, elbows scraping, breath ripped from my lungs. Dust choked the air. Rubble cascaded down the archway above me like a throat closing tight.And Vesper Thorn?She didn't flinch.She stood exactly where she'd been, hands clasped, the vial I hadn't noticed before glinting like a promise between her fingers. It was the color of bone marrow. Not transparent. Not blood. Something in between. Something ancient."You brought them here," I said, coughing. "You invited them."She didn't deny it."I told you," she whispered, "this was never about saving you. This was abo