The infirmary was quiet except for the rasp of Aya's breathing. Every nerve in her body still shuddered from the chained dives. She lay half‑propped on the cot, sweat drying sticky against hospital sheets, as if she hadn't left battle at all.
Gabrielle hadn't moved far all night. She sat on a stool by Aya's side, arms crossed, eyes sharp with exhaustion but refusing to close. Each time Aya stirred or whimpered, Gabrielle leaned forward, ready.
Finally Aya spoke, voice hoarse. "You haven't slept."
"Neither have you," Gabrielle muttered.
"I don't think I remember how, anymore." Aya's lips curved faintly, but it wasn't humor. Only resignation.
Gabrielle's hand hovered, then finally settled over Aya's wrist—gentle, steady. "He'll kill you at this rate. That's not science, it's torture."
Aya shut her eyes, remembering the sensation of being dragged body to body, like a soul worn raw. "Maybe he's right though. If this kills me, at least we'll know where my limit ends."
Gabrielle spat air through her teeth. "Bullshit. You're not an equation to fill in. You're—" She stopped herself, jaw working. "…You're you."
Aya turned her face against the pillow. "Am I? Some days I feel like I'm just echoes. Pieces of soldiers I've borrowed. Fragments Hyde let survive."
"Then listen to me," Gabrielle said, leaning in. "You're Aya Brea because I recognize you. You doubt. You ache. You save people anyway. Hyde doesn't own that. Not while I'm breathing."
Aya almost believed her. Almost.
---
### Rumors
The next day, Aya limped down CTI's corridors. Word of the chained dives had spread faster than any official report. Soldiers leaned against walls whispering as she passed, eyes darting like she carried contagion.
"Five bodies in a row," one murmured. "Didn't even flinch."
Another muttered, "Hyde's leash keeps her tame. But if it snaps—"
Aya pretended not to listen, but every word pierced. The rumors crawled under her skin like parasites.
When she reached the mess hall, the chatter dropped into an unnatural hush. Even the scrape of utensils slowed. Aya carried her tray back out without touching the food. Gabrielle followed her silently, fury burning off her in waves.
"Let them stare," Gabrielle growled once the hall doors hissed shut. "Cowards don't deserve answers."
Aya hugged the tray to her chest. "Maybe they're right to be afraid."
---
### Hyde's Directive
Hours later, Hyde summoned both of them to the strategy room. Schematics glowed across the wall: a map of the city's infection, crimson blotches blooming outward like malignant cells.
Hyde's tone was brisk, precise. "Babel spread will surpass containment within seventy‑two hours. To counter, phase three trials begin immediately."
Aya flinched. "Phase three?"
"Continuous chain dives in open combat zones," he explained. "Stress and live conditions must coincide. Projection: casualty reduction by forty percent, if you perform."
Gabrielle slammed her fist on the console. "She barely survived *yesterday.* You'll send her out broken and call that progress?"
Hyde's gaze sliced through her. "Captain, recall your oath: the preservation of species. Aya Brea alone ensures it. Without escalation, civilians die by the thousands."
Gabrielle's jaw locked. "You want results, fine. But push her past breaking point, and your 'weapon' dies on you. Then where are we?"
"Then humanity dies with her." Hyde's voice carried neither sympathy nor hesitation. "Do not mistake inevitability for cruelty."
Aya whispered, "And if I refuse?"
Hyde turned his pale eyes to her. "Then refusal proves Gabrielle Monsigny correct: Aya Brea has already ceased to exist."
Silence clamped the room. Aya's throat burned with tears unshed. She couldn't answer.
Hyde tapped commands into his tablet, dismissing them without ceremony. "Prepare. Deployment in twenty‑four hours."
---
### Breaking Point
Back in her quarters, Aya crumpled onto the bunk. She buried her head in her hands, whispering raggedly. "I can't. Not again. It's not me anymore, Gabi. Every dive is someone else's breath, someone else's cry. I… I see them afterward. They don't fade."
Gabrielle crouched in front of her, gripping Aya's trembling fists. "Then we find a way to fight Hyde. Together."
Aya shook her head wildly. "They'll court-martial you. Lock you up. Kill you."
A dark grin touched Gabrielle's face. "Let them try."
Aya's heart lurched at the sincerity, terrified and warmed at once. "Why do you care this much?"
"Because if I don't, he wins. And because…" Gabrielle's voice cracked for the first time. "…because you matter to me, Aya. More than orders. More than this damn tower."
Aya's breath hitched. She wanted to deny it, to reject hope before it broke—but the ache in her chest betrayed how desperately she needed to believe.
Silence stretched, fragile and raw.
Finally, Aya whispered, "Then promise me. If I lose myself completely… don't let Hyde keep what's left."
Gabrielle's eyes hardened like steel. "Promise. But you're not lost yet."
---
### Shadows in the Mirrors
Later, Aya went alone to the washroom, splashing water over her face until the sting dulled her shaking. When she lifted her head, she froze.
The mirror showed not just her reflection—but five behind her. The soldiers she had ridden yesterday. Their eyes were hollow, mouths moving silently, but their presence was unmistakable.
Aya stumbled back. "No…"
One opened its mouth in unison with hers. *Our blood is yours now.*
Aya clamped her eyes tight, whispering: "Not real. Not real."
When she opened them again, only her exhausted face stared back.
But the hum of the limiter under her skull seemed louder, as if Hyde watched even through glass.
---
### Threadbare Conspiracy
The night cycle never truly darkened CTI, only dimmed lights to a dull glow. Aya lay restless, hugging her knees on the cot when the door hissed.
Gabrielle slipped in quietly, carrying no uniform, only resolve in her eyes.
"I've been talking with a few inside the unit," she whispered. "Not everyone worships Hyde. Some of us know this is wrong."
Aya blinked, startled. "You mean… rebellion?"
"Not open. Not yet. But he won't stop pushing until you shatter. Sooner or later, someone has to cut the leash."
Aya trembled. "If CTI collapses, humanity—"
"Humanity won't survive by turning its last hope into a corpse on strings." Gabrielle sat close, hand steady on Aya's thigh. "We fight the Babel. But we fight Hyde too. Quietly. Carefully."
Aya bit her lip. She wanted to believe, to cling. Yet shadows of the mirror still hovered. The soldiers her body had consumed. The limiter's hum. Hyde's voice calling her *weapon*.
Still, Gabrielle's hand was real. Warm. Alive.
Aya whispered, "Promise me again."
Gabrielle squeezed. "Always."
Aya closed her eyes, trying to anchor her shattered self to that single word.
But in the dim reflection of the wall screen, she thought she saw another Aya watching back—one with Hyde's expression sharpened across her face.
---