{ Mia }
As soon as I read those words, a searing pain shot up my head.
Like a blade carving behind my eyes.
I staggered, knees nearly giving out, hand gripping the wall.
"Mia?" Lex's voice was distant, muffled.
I pressed my fingers to my temple. My vision split — one side of the room pixelated, the other too sharp. A memory surged. No, not a memory. A command.
Cold metal. Restraints. Screams.
A needle.
A hand.
"Sweetheart... you've always belonged to me."
"No," I gasped. "No no no—get out—"
Ace caught me as I collapsed, his arms solid, grounding.
"Scarlett," he snapped. "Vitals?"
"Spiking. Neural activity irregular. Brainwave desync. Mia—talk to me."
I couldn't. Not yet. Then—
Click.
Deep inside. Behind my ear or in my spine—I couldn't tell.
"Scarlett," I rasped, "scan me. Full body. Internal. Now."
Silence.
Then, Scarlett's voice dropped, sharp and unfamiliar.
"Foreign object detected. Cervical base. Subdermal depth: 3.2mm. Not part of your biological profile."
Ace's jaw clenched. "What is it?"
"A chip," Scarlett said flatly. "Active. Broadcasting."
The room fell silent.
Lex backed up slowly. "How long…?"
"Long enough," I said. "That lullaby—he didn't just mess with my head. He planted it there."
I ran my fingers along the back of my neck, but felt nothing. Just skin. Smooth, healed.
"Scarlett," I said, steadying myself. "Guide me. I want it out. Now."
"You'll need precision. Nerve proximity is high."
Ace stepped forward. "I'll do it."
I stared at him.
"You sure?"
"Mia, you really want your hands shaking with a scalpel in your own neck?" Ace asked, already reaching for gloves.
I didn't argue. Not this time.
I sat on the edge of my desk. Ace pulled gloves tight. Lex handed over the sterilized tools while Scarlett projected a 3D overlay on the screen — glowing red over a translucent model of my spine.
"Incision line marked. Begin two centimeters down. Angle shallow. Avoid the second nerve cluster."
Ace made the first cut with a surgeon's focus. I winced, but didn't flinch.
The second cut broke through.
"I see it," he whispered.
A sliver of metal sat lodged in tissue — no bigger than a splinter. But dangerous.
"Extraction ready," Scarlett said.
Ace eased it out with tweezers.
Click.
The chip came free — smooth, silver, unassuming.
"Still broadcasting," Scarlett confirmed. "Signal intact."
"Good," I muttered. "Let's not make him suspicious."
Lex perked up. "We fake it?"
I nodded. "Let him think I'm still under his leash."
Ace was already reaching for the dummy — a tech shell we'd built weeks ago for tests. Human-size. Skin-toned. Heat emitters. Mimicked vitals if Scarlett linked to it.
"Scarlett," I said, "reroute my usual biometrics. Set the dummy to replicate mine. Feed the chip false signals."
"Working… Transfer in process… Syncing."
We inserted the chip beneath the dummy's synthetic skin, near the same location. Within seconds, Scarlett confirmed:
"Signal redirected. Active. Dummy reads as Mia. External pings received and returned normally."
Lex exhaled. "He won't know."
Ace sealed the lead-lined case around the tools. "For now."
I pressed a cold pack to my neck, still buzzing from the pain.
Scarlett projected a fresh screen beside me — full of red pulses and blue-coded pathways.
"What are we looking at?" Lex asked.
Scarlett's voice was low.
"Real-time decryption. Now that the chip is out… I have access to everything it recorded."
I stared at the data.
Surveillance logs. Audio snippets. Location tags.
My life.
My voice.
My memories.
"We're going to tear him apart with this," I said softly.
Ace stepped closer, eyes locked on mine.
"We start now?"
I nodded.
"Now."
The chip clicked into place inside the dummy.
Scarlett's scanners confirmed the signal had transferred cleanly — cloaking, heartbeat mimic, low-power neural pulse. It would fool him. For now.
I sat on the floor, clutching a towel to my neck. The bleeding had stopped. Ace was pacing like a caged wolf.
Lex looked from the table to me, then back. "We good?"
Scarlett's voice buzzed in my earpiece. "Signal rerouted. Dummy broadcasting in your place. External tracking intact. We've bought time."
Ace turned to me. "We're not staying here."
I didn't argue.
There was too much blood on the floor. Too many fingerprints. Too many memories.
Ace reached out, his hand glowing faint blue. "Hold tight."
I grabbed his arm.
The world folded in.
Safehouse – Underground
The safehouse was dark and silent when we landed. Cold cement, steel walls, backup power only. Just the hum of Scarlett's core system warming up.
I stumbled, breath catching in my throat. Lex grabbed my shoulder before I could fall.
"You okay?" he asked.
No.
"Yes," I said.
Ace flipped on the emergency panel and flooded the room with soft white light. Scarlett's server clicked on with a mechanical hum.
"Welcome back," she said. "All systems loading."
I lowered myself into a chair, shaking. Not from the teleport — I was used to that by now — but from something deeper. Rawer.
"What if it didn't work?" I whispered.
Ace crouched beside me, his eyes steady. "Only one way to know."
Scarlett spoke again, voice even. "I can run a controlled power test. If the corruption signature still lingers, the algorithm will detect it."
I swallowed. Hard.
"Okay."
Lex pulled the testing module from the wall and set it on the desk — a dome-shaped scanner connected to a neural feedback loop. It pulsed softly, like it was breathing.
"You just… concentrate," he said. "Like you're reaching into your power."
I nodded, already feeling the edges of it — that buzz beneath my skin, that strange static under my ribs. The part of me that never fully shut off. The part I'd been afraid of since the lullaby.
I closed my eyes.
And I reached.
The lights flickered.
My fingertips tingled.
The hum returned, but this time — it didn't feel like someone else's voice.
It felt like mine.
I opened my eyes.
Scarlett chimed. "No corruption signature detected."
Ace blinked. "Wait—what?"
"Energy flow stable. No external interference. Feedback loop clean."
Lex stared at the readings. "Mia… you're not corrupted anymore."
I didn't move.
The humming had stopped.
All of it.
For the first time in years — maybe ever — my mind was silent.
No echo.
No pull.
No whisper in the dark.
Just me.
I exhaled a breath I didn't know I was holding.
Then I laughed.
A short, shocked kind of laugh.
"Finally," I whispered. "I'm free."
Ace didn't say anything — he just pulled me into a hug so tight it knocked the air from my lungs.
Lex stood frozen, like he didn't believe it.
Scarlett's voice was soft now. "Subject integrity confirmed. Neural pattern: stable. You did it, Mia."
But somewhere deep inside me, another part stirred — quiet, ancient, unsure.
Free… for now.