KILLIAN POV
The gun slipped from my hands and hit the ground.
I didn't care. I couldn't look away from her.
Lyra.
My Lyra was walking through the market, living, real, just twenty feet away from me.
"Commander Cross?" One of my troops, Jenkins, touched my arm. "Sir, are you alright?"
I couldn't answer. Couldn't breathe. My heart hammered so hard it hurt.
It was her. Same dark hair. Same way of walking—like she was dancing even when she wasn't. Same tilt of her head when she looked at something interesting.
She stopped at a water station, talking to an old woman. When she smiled, I felt like someone punched me in the chest.
That smile. I'd dreamed about that smile every night for three days. Ever since they told me she was dead.
"Sir?" Jenkins sounded worried now. "What's wrong?"
"Do you see that woman?" My voice came out muffled. "The one by the water?"
Jenkins looked. "Dr. Vance? Yeah, she's the smart lady who's helping the deal. Why?"
Dr. Vance. Not Lyra. A different name.
But that was Lyra's face. Lyra's body. Lyra's everything.
"When did she arrive?" I asked.
"Two days ago, I think. Dr. Voss found her in the Deadlands. Why do you—"
I was already moving. My legs carried me forward before my brain could tell them to stop. I had to get closer. Had to see if this was real or if I'd finally lost my mind.
The market was busy. I pushed through people, not caring when they complained. My eyes never left her.
She was real. Solid. Not a ghost. Not a dream.
But Lyra was dead. They told me she died in some lab accident the day before the Pulse. Her body was vaporized—that's what the official report said. Nothing left to bury. Nothing left to hold one last time.
I'd wanted to die too when I heard. The only thing that kept me going was leading my troops, protecting the survivors. Purpose replaced the pieces of my heart that had burned away with her.
Now she was here. Shopping for veggies like the world hadn't ended. Like she hadn't died. Like my grief had been a lie.
She turned.
Our eyes met.
Time stopped.
Every detail was exactly right. The small scar above her left eyebrow—she got it falling off a bike when she was twelve. The way her nose crinkled slightly when she was confused. The exact shade of green in her eyes.
My Lyra. My impossible, dead, living Lyra.
"Excuse me," she said politely. "You're blocking the path."
Her voice. Even her voice was beautiful.
"Lyra," I whispered.
She blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"
"It's me. Killian." I stepped closer. My hands shook. "Baby, what happened? Where have you been? They said you were dead."
"I think you have me confused with someone else." She started to move away. "My name is Sera."
"No." I grabbed her arm—gently, but firm. "You're Lyra Hayes. My fiancée. We were going to get married in June."
She pulled back. Fear flashed across her face. "I don't know you. Please let go."
"Look at me." I moved in front of her. "Really look. You have to remember. Three months ago, we went to the beach. You wore that blue dress I loved. You said—"
"I said let GO!" She yanked her arm free.
People were looking now. I saw my troops moving closer, hands on weapons, ready to protect me if needed.
But I didn't need safety. I needed answers.
"How can you not remember me?" My voice broke. "We loved each other. We had plans. A life. You promised—"
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Her eyes were wide, terrified. "I've never seen you before in my life!"
That hurt worse than any bullet. The way she looked at me—like I was a stranger. A threat. " Commander Cross." Dr. Voss appeared beside us. "Is there a problem?"
"You." I turned to Helena. "You found her. Where? How?"
"In the Deadlands, as I already reported." Helena put herself between me and Lyra—no, Sera, she called herself Sera. "She has forgetfulness. Memory loss from stress. Now I suggest you back away before you scare her further."
"Amnesia?" Hope flared in my chest. "Then she really doesn't remember? But it IS her. You can see it's her, right?"
Helena's face was unreadable. "Commander, this is Dr. Sera Vance. I taught her at university before the Pulse. I've known her for years."
"That's impossible. This is Lyra Hayes. I know my own fiancée!"
"Your fiancée died," Helena said coldly. "I'm very sorry for your loss. But projecting your sadness onto this poor woman won't bring Lyra back."
I looked at Sera again. She was shaking now, scared. Of me.
The woman I loved was afraid of me.
"You have to remember," I begged. "Please. Try. Remember the coffee shop where we met. Remember our first kiss in the rain. Remember—"
"Stop it!" Sera covered her ears. "I don't remember any of that! I don't remember YOU!"
But something flickered in her eyes. Just for a second. Recognition? Pain? I couldn't tell.
"I think you should leave, Commander." Helena's voice had steel in it. "Before I have to report this harassment to the Council."
My men surrounded me now. Jenkins touched my shoulder. "Sir, let's go. Please."
Everything in me wanted to refuse. To grab Sera and shake her until she remembered. Until she looked at me with love instead of fear.
But I was a leader. A leader. I had to be better than my sadness.
"This isn't over," I said softly to Helena. "I know what I saw. That's Lyra."
"That's Dr. Vance. And she's under Council security now." Helena's smile was sharp. "I suggest you focus on your tasks, Commander. We all have jobs to do."
She led Sera away. I watched them disappear into the crowd.
My heart felt like it was being ripped out all over again.
Jenkins helped me pick up my gun. "Sir... did you really know her? Before?"
"Yes." There was no doubt in my mind. "That's Lyra. I don't care what name she's using. I'd know her anywhere." " But Dr. Voss said—"
"Dr. Voss is lying." The certainty settled in my bones. "I don't know why. But that woman is my Lyra. And someone made her forget me."
The rage started then. Hot and sharp.
Someone had taken Lyra from me. Made her disappear. Faked her death. And now she was back but broken, her memories stolen.
"Find out everything about Dr. Sera Vance," I ordered Jenkins. "Where she came from. Where she worked. Everything."
"Yes, sir."
I started walking back to the militia base. My mind raced with impossible thoughts.
Lyra was living. But she didn't remember our life together. Didn't remember liking me.
How do you fight for someone who doesn't know you exist?
I was halfway back when one of my scouts ran up, panting.
"Commander! You need to see this. Now."
"What is it?"
"We found something in the Deadlands. Where Dr. Vance was found." The scout's face was pale. "Sir, there's a building. Underground. Hidden. And it's still got power."
My blood went cold. "That's impossible. The Pulse killed everything."
"I know, sir. But this place is different. Shielded somehow." He swallowed hard. "And Commander? There's bodies down there. Lots of them. They all died the same way."
"How?"
"Their brains were fried. Like something burned them from the inside." The scout paused. "Sir, we found records too. Medical files. And one of them has a name you're going to want to see."
"Show me."
We ran to the vehicles—horse-drawn carts now, since engines didn't work. Twenty minutes later, we reached the Deadlands.
The facility was hidden under rubble. My men had cleared the door. We climbed down into darkness, using candles for light.
The power came from somewhere deep inside. Emergency lights flickered. Impossible. Wrong.
The bodies were in the main room. Exactly like the scout said—dozens of dead scientists, their eyes burned out.
And on the wall, a huge screen. Still functional. Still glowing.
It showed a live feed. Security camera video from three days ago—the day the Pulse happened.
I watched in fear as the timestamp rolled.
A woman stood in front of a control panel. Her hand hovered over a button.
"Please," someone begged off-camera. "Don't do this. You'll kill billions!"
The woman's face was clear in the film.
It was Sera.
No. It was Lyra.
My Lyra stood there with tears streaming down her face, and she hit the button that ended the world.
"That's not possible," I whispered. "Lyra wouldn't... she couldn't..."
But the footage didn't lie.
And when the camera zoomed in on her face, I saw something else. Something that made my stomach drop.
She was happy.
Not a sad smile. Not a sad smile.
A relaxed smile.
Like she'd been waiting her whole life to destroy everything.
The video finished. Static filled the screen.
Then new words appeared, written by someone, somewhere: "LOOKING FOR HER, COMMANDER? SHE'S NOT WHO YOU THINK. AND IF YOU WANT THE TRUTH ABOUT LYRA HAYES, MEET ME AT THE OLD BRIDGE. MIDNIGHT. COME ALONE. OR YOUR FIANCÉE'S REAL SECRETS DIE WITH ME."
The message vanished.
I stood in the darkness, surrounded by bodies, looking at proof that the woman I loved had killed th
e world.
And I had no idea which was worse—that Lyra might be a killer, or that I still loved her anyway.