The corridors of CTI hummed with fluorescent monotony as if nothing had changed. Soldiers passed in neat formations, officers barked orders, data streams flickered from glass panels. But beneath the rhythm ran a new current—silence fractured, steps held too long, eyes glancing toward shadows where whispers grew.
Aya felt it with every motion. The building itself was holding its breath.
She pressed a palm to the cool wall as she walked beside Gabrielle, body still fragile. From behind glass, technicians pretending not to watch let their stares burn holes through her. Aya lowered her eyes, whispering, "They hate me."
Gabrielle's answer came fierce, low. "They hate Hyde. They're just too blind to tell the difference."
But Aya wasn't sure Gabrielle believed it.
---
### Gathering Shadows
That night, Gabrielle slipped her into a storage wing long abandoned, doors sealed with nothing but dust and faulty locks. A single lamp glowed dim against crates of forgotten equipment. Five others waited there—faces Aya half‑recognized from patrols, drills, fleeting glimpses in halls.
The sergeant who had shouted at her in the corridor two days ago wasn't among them. Good.
Gabrielle introduced none of them by name. Instead she crossed arms, voice sharp: "You've all seen what Hyde is doing. Not speculation—evidence. He's pushing Aya past human endurance, calling her a weapon. Every day she goes under, the limit breaks closer."
A woman at the back muttered, "Maybe breaking's what saves us."
Gabrielle's glare sliced like a blade. "And when she's gone, who pulls the trigger? Hyde? You think he can fight the Babel himself?"
Silence. The lamp buzzed.
Gabrielle softened only slightly. "I'm not asking you to pick up rifles against Hyde. Not yet. I'm asking for loyalty—not to me, not even to Aya—but to the *truth*. If Hyde drags her into the abyss, humanity loses everything."
Aya shifted, hugging her arms across her chest. Every eye in the room weighed her. They weren't cruel—worse, they were uncertain, like she might vanish before their sight.
Finally one soldier stepped forward, scars along his cheek. "If the time comes… what do we do?"
Gabrielle's jaw tightened. "We cut the leash. Whatever it takes."
Aya's blood chilled.
The lamp flickered out.
---
### A Quiet Question
Later, Aya sat on her cot, Gabrielle perched at her side removing her gloves.
"You're planning open mutiny," Aya whispered.
Gabrielle didn't deny it. "I'm planning *survival*. There's a difference."
Aya's voice cracked. "And if survival means killing Hyde?"
Gabrielle's silence answered.
Aya lowered her head. "He terrifies me. But without him… does CTI crumble? Do we crumble?"
Gabrielle took her hand, steady. "Then let it crumble if it means you live. I won't trade you for CTI's illusion of order."
Aya wanted to argue—wanted to insist that her life wasn't worth the world—but her chest ached with a selfish pulse. She didn't want to vanish into Hyde's experiment either.
---
### Hyde's Watch
The next morning, Hyde intercepted her alone. No Gabrielle, no soldiers—just his silhouette waiting at the end of the hall.
His eyes glimmered like scalpel edges as he approached. "Your vitals indicate instability."
Aya swallowed. "I feel fine."
"False," Hyde answered, calm. "Your pattern data from chain immersion reveals anomalous oscillations. You resisted compliance."
Aya flinched. "I… I wasn't strong enough—"
"You misunderstand." Hyde's face betrayed no emotion. "Resistance itself *is* strength."
Aya blinked, lost.
But his voice dropped colder. "Yet strength without obedience is waste. If you deviate again, Captain Monsigny's influence ends. Permanently."
Aya froze. He wasn't threatening her anymore. He was threatening Gabrielle.
When Hyde stepped past, the chill followed, leaving Aya's breath stuck in her throat.
---
### The Allies Within
That night, Gabrielle gathered Aya and the quiet allies again. This time, whispers held urgency.
"He knows," Gabrielle muttered, pacing tight circles. "Hyde suspects resistance. He's looking for cracks. And Aya—" she stopped, eyes haunted—"he threatened to cut me away from you."
Aya's stomach dropped. "Then stop. Please. Don't fight him anymore—he'll destroy you."
Gabrielle crouched, gripping Aya's trembling hands. "And if I stop, he destroys you. Aya, let me carry this."
The scarred soldier spoke from the shadows. "If Hyde targets her directly, we can't wait much longer. Give the word, Captain."
Aya's breath hitched. This was no longer subtle rebellion. These were men and women ready to risk treason.
She whispered, "Don't kill each other over me. Please."
Gabrielle's grip only tightened. "We're trying to keep you alive. If that tears CTI apart… so be it."
Aya looked at their faces in the dim. Some hardened, some fearful. But none certain. Mutiny was never clean.
---
### Echoes in Glass
Alone again, Aya wandered into the washroom. The mirror met her eyes like a wound.
It wasn't Eve she saw this time.
It was herself—but not shaking, not frail. Strong, poised, face calm with Hyde's precision. Cold. Efficient. That reflection smiled the way Hyde never did, and whispered silently through the glass: *Maybe you don't need Gabrielle at all.*
Aya staggered back, heart hammering. She wanted to smash the mirror, but her hands shook too hard.
Finally she crumpled onto the tiles, pressing palms over her ears, whispering over and over: "I'm Aya. I'm Aya. I'm Aya."
The reflection didn't fade.
---
### Closing
When Gabrielle found her there minutes later, Aya clung to her like a drowning child.
"They're inside me," Aya whispered. "Not just Eve—not just the soldiers—I think *Hyde's in me too.*"
Gabrielle pulled her close, voice rough but unflinching. "Then we rip him out. Whatever it costs."
Aya buried her face in Gabrielle's shoulder. She believed the promise because it was all she had left.
But in the mirrored wall behind them, the other Aya smiled patiently, waiting.
---