Rain drummed against the broken windows of the safehouse. The world outside was a gray blur, but inside, it was all blood and silence.

Frank knelt beside Zoey, his hands slick and trembling. The scalpel on the table glinted under the flickering light. The job was done — the implant was out — but the cost was written across the pale, blood-smeared tiles.

Zoey's body jerked once before going still. Her skin had gone cold, her pulse faint under his fingertips.

"Stay with me," he muttered, pressing a bandage hard against the open wound near her neck. His voice was rough, low — the tone of a man trying to convince himself she was still breathing.

Outside, thunder cracked. Inside, it was only the sound of his ragged breathing and the faint buzz of electricity.

For a moment, he thought he'd gone too far. Then Zoey gasped — weak, broken, but alive.

Frank exhaled sharply, grabbing his field med kit. His movements were mechanical, steady — antiseptic, gauze, sutures. He'd patched bullet wounds and bomb fragments before, but this was different. This wasn't combat. This was survival surgery.

Her eyelids fluttered. "Frank…"

He didn't look up. "Don't talk."

"I—didn't think… you'd actually do it."

He gave a dry half-smile. "You told me to cut it out. I don't do half jobs."

Zoey let out a shaky breath, then passed out again.

Frank looked at her — pale, weak, still human. Then his gaze shifted to the thing lying on the table beside her: a small metallic shard, pulsing faint blue even after being removed.

It looked like a drop of liquid mercury trapped inside glass. Engraved across its side were the letters:

VTX–ZP–LINK / REV2.

He picked it up carefully with tweezers. The faint pulse of light reflected in his eyes. "You're not just a tracker, are you?" he muttered. "You're a leash."

---

The Discovery

Frank moved to the other side of the room and laid the implant on a dissection tray. He turned on his portable scanner — a compact device from his detective toolkit, usually used for micro-evidence. He calibrated it to run a spectrum sweep.

The display pinged. The reading wasn't standard — not medical tech. It was cross-linked to a second network frequency.

He frowned. "Neural sync relay."

It wasn't just tracking Zoey — it was tethered to him. A paired code.

He sat back, thinking aloud. "VTX–ZP… Vertex, Zoey Parker. Link… Revision Two."

The realization hit like a gut punch. "They paired her to me."

The implant pulsed one last time before fading completely. Frank slid it into a lead-lined pouch and sealed it tight. Destroying it might trigger a data dump or worse — a failsafe.

He wiped his hands clean and sat beside her again, the sound of rain filling the silence.

He muttered softly, "You were right, Ricky. They built us in pairs. One to fight, one to watch."

---

The Awakening

Hours later, Zoey stirred. Her eyes opened slowly, unfocused at first. She was lying on a rough cot near the corner of the room, wrapped in a blanket. The room smelled faintly of disinfectant and rain.

She turned her head and saw Frank sitting nearby, back to her, cleaning the blood off his hands.

Her voice came out weak. "You stayed."

He didn't turn around. "You'd bleed out if I didn't."

"You could've left."

He rinsed his hands in a bowl of water, watching the red swirl fade to pink. "Could've," he said, voice calm. "Didn't."

Zoey's throat was dry. "So… it's gone?"

Frank looked over his shoulder. "It's out, yeah. But that doesn't mean it's over."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

He pointed to the sealed pouch. "This thing wasn't just tracking you. It was syncing you. You and me — connected through the same neural channel. They used you to monitor me."

Her stomach turned. "Frank, I didn't know."

He sighed. "I know. You were just the receiver. I was the transmitter."

She stared at the wall, guilt flickering in her eyes. "So what happens now?"

Frank leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Now we find out who installed the circuit."

---

The Glitch

As they talked, Frank suddenly went still. His fingers twitched, eyes unfocused. The world tilted sideways.

Zoey noticed immediately. "Frank? What's wrong?"

He pressed his hand to his temple. "Something's—wrong."

Static hissed in his ears, and his vision blurred into flashes — fragments of memory cutting in and out like broken film.

He saw Colonel Ricky signing a folder.

A stamp: PROJECT R: REBIRTH CONTINUATION. SUBJECT 002.

His own photo underneath.

The vision cut to Ricky's voice — low, serious.

> "If he finds out, terminate the program. No witnesses."

Then darkness again.

Frank snapped back to reality, sweat running down his neck. Zoey grabbed his shoulder. "Frank! Talk to me."

He exhaled, shaking his head. "They tied it all together. Ricky knew. He wasn't protecting me. He was protecting them."

"Who?"

"The Citadel."

---

The Pursuers

A sudden flash of light through the window caught his attention. Headlights.

Frank stood immediately, weapon drawn, moving to the window. He peeled back the curtain just enough to see.

Two black SUVs were pulling up quietly, no sirens, no markings.

"They found us again," he said.

Zoey pushed herself up weakly. "How? The implant's gone."

"They don't need it anymore," Frank said grimly. "They have me now."

He started checking his pistol and spare mags.

Zoey tried to stand. "Then we run."

He shook his head. "No. This time we don't run. We end it."

"Frank—"

He was already moving, setting a tripwire at the door, rigging two flash detonators from his tactical pouch. His detective precision showed — each movement efficient, silent, exact.

Zoey watched him, torn between fear and admiration. "You're planning to take them all?"

Frank loaded the final round and looked at her. "No. Just the one giving orders."

---

The Assault

The door burst open. Flashbangs went off like thunder, white light filling the room. Frank spun low, two precise shots dropping the first operative before he even cleared the doorway.

Zoey grabbed a fallen rifle, covering the window. Glass shattered as more gunfire rained in.

"Left side!" she yelled.

Frank dove behind the overturned table, returning fire. His tone was calm — the calm of someone who'd done this a hundred times before.

When the smoke cleared, one operative lay wounded but alive. Frank kicked his gun away and yanked him by the collar into the room.

"Who sent you?"

The man's breath hitched. His eyes were glassy with pain. "C–Citadel… Omega Command… Reclamation Order."

Zoey frowned. "What the hell does that mean?"

The man coughed, blood on his lips. "You're not supposed to exist."

Frank's jaw tightened. "Neither are you." He shot the radio in the man's vest before backup could be called.

They stripped the operatives of gear and grabbed a keycard. "We're moving," Frank said.

Zoey grabbed her jacket, still wincing from the wound. "Where?"

"Where else?" He nodded toward the window. "Where they came from."

---

The Getaway

They fled through the back alley, rain washing the blood from their hands. Frank hotwired the nearest SUV — his movements automatic, instinctive.

As the engine roared to life, Zoey looked back at the motel. "That was the third time they've found us."

"Third time's the charm," Frank muttered.

They drove fast through Northvale's industrial outskirts, headlights cutting through the downpour. The city skyline flickered behind them like a dying machine.

Zoey leaned back, pressing her hand to the bandage. "Frank… what if this doesn't end?"

He kept his eyes on the road. "Then we make it end."

The radio on the dash crackled suddenly. Every channel flickered to static — then a voice came through, distorted but familiar.

> "Frank Miller. Subject 002. The failsafe is incomplete. Return to origin."

Zoey stared at the radio. "Origin? They mean—"

"The Citadel," Frank finished, voice cold.

He tightened his grip on the wheel. "They're calling us home."

The rain poured harder as they sped toward the horizon, lightning splitting the sky.

---

The Reflection

Hours later, they stopped under an overpass, hidden from aerial view. Frank stepped out into the rain, letting it soak through his shirt.

Zoey followed him quietly.

He looked up at the storm. "I used to think coming back from death was a gift."

Zoey crossed her arms. "And now?"

He turned to her. "Now I think it was just another leash."

She stepped closer. "Frank… we can still end this. Together."

He studied her face — the exhaustion, the regret, the faint trace of fear. For a moment, the soldier in him faded, and the detective took over again.

He asked softly, "Do you trust me?"

She nodded without hesitation. "With what's left of me, yeah."

Frank gave a small nod, then glanced at the horizon. "Then tomorrow, we find the Citadel. And we burn it to the ground."

The rain continued to fall, washing away the blood from the road.

In the backseat of the SUV, the lead-lined pouch began to glow faintly again — the implant pulsing with life, like a heartbeat refusing to die.

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.