The silence after Rinaldi left wasn't just silence. It was alive, a hollow that breathed with her, fragile and weightless.
Clara didn't know how long she had been standing there. Then she felt it, a pulse behind her eyes, warm and electric.
Clara…
Adrian's voice. Tired, soft, and infinite.
Just a whisper, but it melted the frozen ache in her chest.
"You're here…" She breathed.
Always.
Her gaze shifted to the door.
A small red light blinked above the handle, slow and steady. Electronic lock. No way out.
Rinaldi had sealed her in, like data in a test chamber.
"It's locked."
You can open it.
"How? There's no code, no key."
You don't need one. You already have it.
She pressed her palm to the sensor. A cold shock climbed her fingers. She focused. Nothing. Only her heartbeat, desperate and useless.
She tried again. Still nothing.
Frustration swelled in her chest; she struck the door with her hand.
"Why won't it work?!"
Silence.
Then Adrian, quiet but firm: Because you're trying to force it. Stop fighting. Feel me.
"Feel you?"
Remember.
She closed her eyes.
Breathed in.
The hum of machines faded away until there was only him: his eyes, his breath, the quiet way he said her name.
The ache of wanting him, even when it was forbidden.
Clara…
"Yes."
Look at me.
Not an order. A plea. And she did.
She saw him, not with her eyes, but with the part of her that remembered.
The curve of his mouth, the shadow of his breath against hers.
I love you, Clara.
The click of the lock cut through the air.
A clean sound. A heartbeat restarting.
The red light turned green. The door opened.
She froze, her hand still hovering over the metal. Tears slid down her cheeks, warm and silent.
"Adrian… what did you do?"
Nothing that wasn't already yours.
A fragile smile broke through her tears.
"Then don't leave me."
I couldn't, even if I tried.
The corridor outside was a tunnel of glass.
Lights flickered above her, breathing with the walls. Every step echoed too loudly. The air smelled of cold metal and disinfectant.
Left, Adrian whispered. Follow the blue light.
His voice wasn't only in her mind anymore.
It was in her body, in the shiver crawling down her spine, in the heat blooming under her skin.
The closer she moved toward him, the stronger the pull became.
Can you feel it? she asked.
Every breath you take.
She stopped, leaning against the wall.
Closed her eyes. For a heartbeat, he was there, behind her, close enough that she could feel his warmth against her back, his breath sliding through her hair.
Don't turn around, he said. If you do, I won't be able to let you go.
"And if I don't want you to?"
Silence.
Then a low exhale.
Then everything ends here. And we end with it.
She swallowed hard. Then kept walking.
One step after another, until she reached the door marked 3B.
Her fingers trembled as she reached out.
The glass was pulsing with faint light, a rhythm like a heartbeat. Warm to the touch.
Alive.
Open it.
"I'm scared."
So am I. But I'm with you.
The door hissed open. Inside, the room glowed in sterile white. At the center stood a transparent capsule, surrounded by tangled wires.
A monitor blinked beside it:
Subject A - Neural Preservation Active.
Clara's knees nearly gave out. She walked closer, one step at a time, until the outline inside the capsule became clear.
Adrian. His body suspended in liquid, eyes closed. Alive.
Her hand pressed against the glass. Warmth surged through her palm, as if the barrier between them had never existed.
Don't open it yet, his voice whispered in her mind. If you do, he'll know.
"But I have to bring you back."
You will. Just not now. Trust me.
Clara leaned forward until her forehead met the glass. Her tears fell, joining the bubbles rising in the fluid.
Can you hear me, Clara?
"Always."
Then hold on. Don't let him divide us again.
"I love you, Adrian."
And I love you… in every version of us that ever existed.
Then came a sound, metal sliding, a door closing behind her.
The reflection in the glass shifted.
Rinaldi stood in the doorway. Calm. Perfect.
A ghost made of calculation.
"I knew you'd come back to him," he said softly.
"Love is always the hardest anomaly to erase."
Clara turned toward him, her hands still resting on the glass. Her eyes were steady.
Her voice, low and sharp: "And it's the one that will destroy you."