Rain still clung to the windshield like a sheet of glass tears. The city outside was waking up slow — orange streetlights fading into the pale gray of dawn. Zoey was half asleep in the passenger seat, head against the window, her breath fogging the glass.
The message from Ricky replayed for the fifth time.
"The truth isn't behind you, Miller — it's inside you."
His voice was calm, almost mocking. I turned the volume up, focusing not on the words but on the spaces between them — static hum, rhythm, faint beeps.Old habits kicked in. Ricky loved layers. Every briefing, every order he ever gave had a subtext.I adjusted the frequency filter on my wrist comm, and the static transformed into short-long pulses.
Morse code. Of course.
I wrote it on the dashboard dust with my finger:– ···· / ··– / ···· — · —··Coordinates.Sector 12.Old Harbor Docks.
Zoey stirred beside me. "Please tell me that's not what I think it is."
"It's a meeting spot," I said. "And if Ricky chose it… it's probably also a trap."
She rubbed her eyes and muttered, "You and your optimism."
"Just keeping us honest."
I started the car, the old engine coughing awake. The rain thinned into mist as we headed toward the waterfront, the city skyline shrinking behind us. Every streetlamp flickered as we passed, and I couldn't tell if it was the weather or someone following our signal.
At the Docks
Fog rolled thick over the old shipping yard, swallowing sound. Broken cranes leaned over rusted containers, ghosts of a busier past.I killed the headlights and parked a block away.
Zoey scanned the area with her handheld radar. "No movement. Just rats and silence."
"That's how traps start," I said.
We moved in low, quiet. The ground was slick, puddles like mirrors. I studied each reflection — anything that moved when we didn't.A faint red blink caught my eye — a camera above a warehouse door, half-hidden behind a floodlight. Active.
"We're being watched," I murmured.
Zoey smirked. "Then let's give them something worth watching."
She circled right, I went left. Classic pincer approach — quiet steps, synchronized breathing.Inside the warehouse, dust hung in the air like smoke. One metal chair sat in the center of the floor. A projector rested on a crate in front of it.
I didn't like it already.
I pressed play.
The projector hummed to life, and there he was — Colonel Rickleton, or at least his recorded face, projected against the concrete wall. His eyes gleamed like a man who knew he'd already won.
"Miller. If you've made it this far, congratulations. You're still predictable."
Zoey folded her arms. "He sounds proud of that."
Ricky's recorded voice continued.
"You think you're chasing me. You're not. You're chasing the lie I built to keep you busy. Project Rebirth was never terminated. It evolved. You were the prototype, Miller — the mind that wouldn't die. But Evelyn… she was the upgrade."
Zoey whispered, "He's talking about her again…"
"You can't stop the program," Ricky's voice said. "Because the program is you."
The projector flickered, glitched, then died. Darkness fell over the room.
And then — footsteps.
The Ambush
"Down!" I hissed, pulling Zoey behind a container.
Muzzle flashes lit the dark — silenced rounds slicing through air.I rolled left, fired twice. Two bodies dropped.
Zoey returned fire, using the echo of the shots to mask her direction."Three left!" she called.
"Two now." I fired again — the bullet ricocheted off a steel beam, catching a shadow in the neck. He fell, hard.
One of them tried to flank from the right — I used a hanging hook to swing a loose chain into him, grabbed his rifle mid-stumble, and slammed him into the wall.
The fight ended in thirty seconds of chaos.
Only one was left breathing — barely. His mask was cracked, his eyes dazed.
I crouched beside him, gun steady. "Who sent you?"
The man coughed blood. "He did… the Founder."
Zoey frowned. "Founder?"
"Of Vertex," I said. "Or worse."
The man's eyes glazed over. "He… knows you're coming."
He went still.
I exhaled. "He's testing how far I'll go to find him."
Zoey wiped dust from her cheek. "And?"
I stood, scanning the walls again. "Far enough."
The Discovery
We found stairs leading up to a small office overlooking the dock floor. The smell of oil and old paper clung to everything.
Zoey powered on a terminal at the corner desk. "There's still juice in this thing."
I knelt beside her. "Try Ricky's cipher key. Alpha-nine."
She tapped in the sequence. The screen flickered, revealing a grid of camera feeds — some live, some archived. Snow, forests, laboratories… and then, one window showed a facility built into a mountain.
Guards. Trucks. Security drones.
And in one frame — her.Red coat. Rifle on her back. Talking to a man in uniform.
My throat went dry. "She's there."
Zoey glanced at me. "You sure?"
"Every movement. The way she scans corners. That's Evelyn."
She leaned closer. "If she's alive, maybe we can bring her back."
I shook my head. "She's not the same person anymore. None of us are."
I downloaded the location data onto a portable drive, slipped it into my jacket.
As I stood, I noticed a corkboard against the far wall — pinned with photos, mission reports, schematics.One of them stopped me cold — my own face.Date-stamped six months before I was revived.
Zoey followed my gaze. "He was watching you even before you woke up."
"He wasn't watching," I said softly. "He was writing the script."
The Drive North
Snow began falling as we left the docks. The road curved through the industrial outskirts, fading into the wilderness.Zoey stared out the window, wrapped in silence.
After a while, she spoke. "Frank… what if killing Ricky doesn't fix anything?"
"It won't," I said. "But it'll stop him from breaking more people."
She nodded slowly. "And if he's not human anymore?"
"Then I'll remind him what dying feels like."
She let out a breath that could've been a laugh — or a prayer.
We stopped once near a frozen gas station. While Zoey refilled the generator, I opened my decryptor again, checking the drive's contents.A new file had appeared — hidden deep inside:ECHO SEQUENCE — SUBJECT 002.
Zoey saw the look on my face. "What is it?"
"A control loop," I said. "Failsafe command. Someone still has access to me."
She froze. "Frank… that means they can—"
"Turn me off. Like a switch."
I closed the device, the cold biting at my hands. "We end this fast."
The Mountain Facility
By dusk, the road ended at the base of the northern ridge. Beyond the fog, lights glimmered faintly — towers, walls, drones circling like vultures.
We parked under the shadow of a half-collapsed bridge and climbed to a vantage point.Through the binoculars, I saw the truth — Vertex's resurrection center. Hundreds of soldiers, lab techs, cyber units. All under one roof.
Zoey crouched beside me. "We can't walk in there."
I adjusted the scope, marking guard routes. "We won't walk. We'll hunt."
She looked at me — really looked. "You're scaring me a little."
"Good," I said. "Means I'm thinking like them."
The wind howled through the ridge, carrying the faint hum of drones. I scanned again — movement on the opposite hill.A glint of red through the snow.
Zoey's hand shot to my arm. "Frank—sniper!"
The shot cracked the silence.
The bullet slammed into the rock inches from my head.I ducked, rolled behind cover, aimed toward the ridge. My crosshair caught the silhouette lowering the rifle — calm, deliberate.
The red coat fluttered in the wind.
My heart stopped.
Evelyn.
She stepped into view just long enough for me to see her face through the scope — pale, marked with faint circuitry along the jaw. Half-human. Half-machine. But still her.
"Evelyn…" I whispered.
Zoey whispered beside me, "She's real."
The second shot never came. Instead, Evelyn turned, slung the rifle over her shoulder, and walked away into the storm.
I lowered the scope. The silence between us felt heavier than the mountain itself.
Zoey finally spoke. "She could've killed us."
"She doesn't miss," I said quietly. "She wanted us alive."
"For what?"
I looked at the blinking light in the distance — the base's main tower pulsing like a heartbeat. "Maybe she wants me to see what I've become."
Later That Night
We built a small fire inside a cave near the ridge. The snow outside was relentless.
Zoey patched my arm where a fragment grazed me earlier. "You've got a gift for getting shot at."
I gave a faint smile. "Keeps me humble."
She hesitated before asking, "Frank… do you ever think about stopping? Just walking away?"
"Every day," I said. "But then I remember Ricky's voice telling me I'm not even real. That I'm a project. A sequence."
She leaned closer. "You're not a sequence. You're stubborn, reckless, impossible… but you're real."
"Maybe," I said. "Or maybe I'm just the ghost that doesn't know he's one."
The fire crackled. She didn't argue.
After a while, I took out the decrypted drive again, the faint blue light reflecting on the cave walls. The coordinates led deeper into the mountain — directly under the Vertex base.
Zoey saw it too. "They built something underground."
I nodded. "That's where Ricky's hiding. The Founder."
She looked at me, determination replacing fear. "Then that's where we go."
I shut the device off. "At first light."
She smiled weakly. "You know you sound like a movie cliché, right?"
"Yeah," I said. "But the good ones always survive till the sequel."
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