The sky over Qingcheng was a heavy gray, like a lid closing over a secret long buried. The roads narrowed the higher they drove, winding around cliffs, forests, and forgotten military zones.
Ruoxi gripped the seatbelt as Zeyan shifted gears, his face unreadable.
"This place doesn't exist on any map," he said. "No electricity grid, no satellite feed. We're flying blind."
Ruoxi didn't answer. Her heart was hammering for reasons beyond fear.
They were coming for Linyue.But something told her Linyue wasn't the only one trapped in that facility.
They reached the compound's outer perimeter by dusk. Half-hidden beneath overgrowth, the entrance looked like nothing more than a collapsed tunnel.
Zeyan tapped the concrete with a knuckle. "Still solid."
Then he pulled out a device from his coat — an EMP pulse drive.
"Bought us fifteen seconds," he muttered, slapping the button.
The door clicked.
Ruoxi helped him slide it open, and together they slipped inside, swallowed by darkness.
The interior was nothing like she expected.
No flickering lights. No guards.
Just silence. And a long corridor bathed in sterile white.
As they moved forward, motion-activated lights clicked on, revealing rooms through glass windows.
Room after room. Empty beds. Restraints. Monitors.
Ruoxi's stomach turned.
They reached a final corridor marked PHASE II – Cognitive Realignment Wing.
Zeyan frowned. "That wasn't in the original files."
Suddenly, a voice echoed from the speakers.
"Welcome back, Mo Zeyan. You've finally brought her home."
Ruoxi froze.
"Who said that?"
A panel in the wall slid open, revealing a man in a lab coat — young, clean-shaven, calm. He stepped out as if they'd been expected.
"My name is Dr. An Chen. Director of Phase II."
Zeyan raised his weapon. "Where is she?"
Dr. An didn't flinch.
"She's waiting. But I'm afraid she's... changed."
Ruoxi stepped forward. "What have you done to her?"
An Chen smiled thinly. "We didn't change her. She evolved."
They followed him through another hall into a room that looked like a twisted version of a child's playroom — only the toys were wires, neurostimulators, and memory charts.
In the center, Linyue sat on a stool, sketching with a crayon.
"Linyue?" Ruoxi whispered.
She didn't look up.
But the drawing caught Ruoxi's breath — it was a blueprint. Detailed. Familiar.
It was Ruoxi's bedroom. Down to the placement of her mirror.
"What… is this?"
Linyue looked up then. Her eyes were darker now. Unreadable.
"I remembered where you hid the matches," she said softly. "Under the loose floorboard."
Ruoxi stepped closer. "You're scaring me."
"She's only remembering," Dr. An interjected. "We've been triggering memories. Yours, hers — we've learned they share an echo link. What one experiences, the other feels. Project Twin Flame didn't fail. It just needed time."
Zeyan glared. "You're experimenting on her like a lab rat!"
"Not just her," An said calmly. "Ruoxi is the key. She's the stabilizer. Linyue's consciousness was fractured in the fire. We used Ruoxi's neural blueprint to repair her. That's what Phase II is."
Ruoxi took a shaky step back. "You've been… copying me into her?"
"In segments," An said. "Dream patterns. Memory logs. Emotional imprints. She's becoming whole again — but not as Linyue."
Zeyan raised his gun. "Where are the backups?"
An Chen looked amused. "Destroying me won't stop what's already started. The final integration is underway."
Ruoxi turned back to Linyue. "Do you remember me?"
Linyue blinked slowly. "You were my mirror."
Tears burned Ruoxi's eyes. "You are my sister."
"No," Linyue whispered. "I was made from you. I'm not sure I ever had a self to begin with."
Zeyan stepped forward. "We're leaving. Now."
Dr. An didn't stop them.
"I'll leave the door open," he said. "But just remember — if she breaks containment, the fallback protocol activates. And that involves you, Miss Ruoxi."
"What does that mean?" Zeyan demanded.
Dr. An's smile faded.
"She's tethered to your mind. If she dies, your mind collapses. If you die… she becomes unstable."
Ruoxi's heart skipped a beat.
"So we're… linked?"
"Twins in every sense now," An said. "Only one body needs to survive."
Later, as they drove away from the annex, Linyue asleep in the backseat, Ruoxi stared at her reflection in the rearview mirror.
Her hands were shaking.
Zeyan kept his eyes on the road.
"What if she's not the same anymore?" she whispered. "What if I can't reach her?"
He didn't answer at first.
Then: "We fight for who she was. And who you both still can be."
Ruoxi closed her eyes.
But all she saw was the drawing of her bedroom.
A blueprint of her life.
Mapped by someone who had never truly left her mind.