The safehouse was nothing more than a condemned bookstore tucked behind a collapsed bridge.
Dust choked the air.
Floorboards creaked under every step.
Eira slammed the door and bolted it.
Only then did they finally let themselves breathe.
> "We'll rest here for a few hours," she said, wiping blood from her forehead. "Then we move again."
Nate slumped against a sagging bookshelf, feeling every bruise and cut on his body.
> "You said you'd explain everything once we were safe," he muttered.
> "And I will," Eira replied grimly. "But you're not going to like it."
---
She tossed a dusty leather file onto the floor between them.
Nate opened it with trembling fingers.
Inside were grainy photos of him.
From childhood.
From missions he couldn't even remember.
Each labeled with a date... and a codename.
Subject 09.
Operation Daedalus.
> "What the hell is this?"
Eira looked away, guilt heavy in her eyes.
> "You weren't just a soldier, Nate. You were... property. The Syndicate's weapon."
The room spun.
Nate's stomach turned to ice.
> "No," he whispered. "That's not true."
> "Your memories were wiped," she continued. "Rewritten after every mission. Every kill."
Nate staggered to his feet, heart hammering.
> "You're lying!"
> "I wish I was," Eira said, voice cracking. "I helped them build you. I helped... control you."
---
Silence fell like a guillotine.
Nate's fists clenched. His vision blurred with rage and betrayal.
Eira stepped forward, hands raised.
> "I broke free first," she said. "I found the files. I remembered everything."
> "And what?" Nate snarled. "You suddenly grew a conscience?"
> "I couldn't leave you behind," she said. "Not after what they did to us."
The anger drained from Nate as the last word hit him:
Us.
> "You were part of it too," he realized, voice hollow.
Eira nodded once, a tear slipping down her cheek.
> "Subject 07," she said. "Your sister."
---
Nate staggered back, the ground crumbling beneath everything he thought he knew.
A sister.
A lost life.
A stolen future.
Before he could even speak, a low, mechanical buzz filled the air.
Eira's face went white.
> "They've found us," she whispered.
Outside, the screech of tires cut through the night.
Boots pounded the pavement.
The Syndicate was here.
And this time, they weren't bringing darts to capture.
They were bringing death.
---