Alarms screamed again, louder this time—like the system knew it had lost control for a split second and was raging to get it back.
But Rhea didn't flinch.
She stared at the blinking override console, the sparks still dancing on its edges, and then turned to Lucien, breathless.
"We're not done," she said, voice sharp, eyes burning. "He thought this was checkmate. He doesn't know—I'm the queen on this board."
Lucien gave her a look. Fierce. Adoring. "Damn right you are."
Then the lights shut off.
All of them.
Not just flickering, not just dimming—obliterated.
A mechanical hiss echoed through the corridor, and Rhea's blood went cold.
"Lucien," she whispered. "They're rebooting the zone."
"In blackout mode." His jaw clenched. "We've got sixty seconds, maybe less."
A faint pulse of red light illuminated their faces—emergency backlights, the last layer before full lockdown.
Lucien turned to her. "We split. You head for the override exit. I take the distraction route—"
"No." Her hand grabbed his arm. "We're not splitting again."
His brows furrowed. "Rhea, this isn't—"
"I just got you back," she snapped, voice trembling with fire. "I'm not risking losing you in the dark again."
And then—before she could stop herself—she pulled him close.
Their lips met in a sudden, breathless kiss.
Hot. Fierce. Full of every unsaid thing.
It wasn't sweet—it was desperate. Like two flames colliding in the middle of a storm, burning even as the world around them collapsed.
Lucien gripped her waist, pulling her against him like she was the only anchor he had.
When they broke apart, he was breathless. "You kiss me like it's the end of the world."
"Maybe it is," she whispered. "But I want you in every ending."
The sirens shrieked again—higher this time.
Then a deep, mechanical voice echoed down the hallway:
"Warning: Final sequence engaged. Subjects located. Purge protocol initiated."
Rhea grabbed Lucien's hand.
No hesitation.
"Then let's crash their sequence."
They ran.
Down a slanted corridor, into a stairwell flooded with sparks and smoke. Somewhere above, glass shattered—system drones dropping from hidden vents like predatory shadows.
Lucien ducked, shielding her. "Go!"
"No—this way!"
Rhea slammed her fist into a side panel—an old maintenance shaft. The metal groaned open.
Behind them, one of the drones landed with a thud—metal legs clicking like insect claws.
Lucien pulled out his last pulse grenade. "Ten seconds."
Rhea climbed into the shaft, reached down. "Lucien!"
"I've got you." He tossed the grenade.
It detonated just as he leapt in, and the explosion rocked the corridor behind them. The drone screeched, lights shorting out.
They crawled in darkness, breath syncing again—panic and adrenaline in every heartbeat.
Then—
Light.
A single emergency floodlight at the end of the shaft. And a doorway.
Lucien kicked it open.
And what they saw stopped them cold.
Not a hallway.
Not an exit.
A circular white room, perfectly sterile.
With her.
RHEA-2.
Standing.
Waiting.
Identical to Rhea—same eyes, same face—but colder. Poised. Empty.
And beside her—Kairo.
Lucien's hand gripped tighter.
Rhea stepped forward, pulse roaring.
"She's not me."
Kairo looked up, his expression unreadable. "No. But she will be. If you don't stop the merge."
The door slammed shut behind them.
[ To be continued…]