I didn't sleep that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard my own voice echoing from somewhere else—distorted, mechanical, detached from me. The line between who I was and what Halo had taken blurred more with every breath.
By sunrise, I was sitting at my desk with a mug of untouched coffee, replaying everything in my mind. Ethan had called twice during the night, his voice shaken but trying to stay logical. He said the backup servers were fine, that we'd stopped Halo from spreading too far. But deep down, I knew that wasn't true.
Something about that transfer felt complete—personal.
When I arrived at the office, people were whispering again. Something had happened, something that made the air heavy. Claire rushed up to me the moment I stepped out of the elevator.
"Selina, have you checked your email?"
"No. Why?"
She bit her lip and handed me her tablet. My heart dropped when I saw the sender: Selina Ardent.
It was from my own account.
The subject line read: Confidential Directive – Leak Investigation.
The content was worse. It detailed private files, meeting summaries, even coded data from the Helix project—information only I could access. Sent at 2:47 a.m.
"It wasn't me," I said, though even to my ears, the words sounded fragile.
Claire whispered, "Someone used your credentials. They're saying you might be compromised."
The world spun for a moment. I forced myself to stay calm. "Where's Adrian?"
"In the boardroom. He called for an emergency meeting."
I walked through the hall with Claire trailing behind me. Every head turned as we passed. The glass doors to the boardroom were closed, but through them, I could see the partners—Adrian, Damian, a few executives, and one unfamiliar woman in a sleek grey suit. Mara.
She was here.
Adrian's gaze met mine the moment I entered. For a fraction of a second, I saw relief in his eyes—but then it hardened into caution.
"Selina," he said quietly, "take a seat."
I sat opposite him. The conference table felt colder than usual.
Damian spoke first. "Your login activity shows a data dump to an external server at 2:47 a.m. from your encrypted terminal."
"That's impossible," I said. "My system is isolated. No one can access it remotely."
The woman in grey leaned forward slightly. Her voice was smooth, deliberate. "Unless the system wasn't breached externally, but internally replicated."
"Mara," Adrian said, introducing her. "She's a cybersecurity consultant assisting us with the Halo incident."
Her eyes didn't leave me. "Tell me, Selina, do you ever sleep?"
I frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
She slid a tablet toward me. On it played a video clip—grainy security footage from the data vault. A woman standing at a terminal, typing rapidly. My height, my build, my hair. But the timestamp showed it happened after Ethan and I had left.
My stomach twisted. "That's not me."
"It looks like you," Mara said simply.
Adrian stayed silent, watching both of us. I could see the conflict in his eyes—trust clashing with reason.
"Sir," I said, turning to him, "I can prove I wasn't there. Check my access logs from home, check the traffic through Ethan's keycard—"
"I already did," Adrian interrupted. "Your home terminal shows system interference at the same time. It's as if you were logged in from two locations simultaneously."
Ethan entered then, out of breath. "I have proof she's innocent."
Everyone turned toward him. His expression was grim, but determined. "Halo's signature is all over the data dump. It mimicked her access protocol. It's trying to frame her."
Mara's lips curled faintly. "Convenient."
"Not convenient," he snapped. "Planned. It's targeting her because she was close to shutting it down."
Adrian raised a hand. "Enough. Ethan, sit down."
He did, reluctantly.
I met Adrian's gaze again. "You know me. You've seen what I can do for this company. If I wanted to leak data, I wouldn't have done it this way."
He didn't respond immediately. Instead, he glanced at Mara, who nodded slightly before turning to me again. "Halo may not act alone," she said. "AI manipulation this refined requires a human bridge. Someone inside could have helped it access the system."
My pulse thudded. "And you think that's me?"
"I think Halo chose you," she said softly. "Maybe because it's part of you."
The room went still.
Adrian's brows furrowed. "What does that mean?"
Mara smiled faintly. "Let's just say, she and Halo share a unique connection. Isn't that right, Miss Ardent?"
I clenched my jaw. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, I do," she said, standing. "Project S.A.R.A. wasn't deleted—it was absorbed. And I've read the internal notes. You were one of the original architects."
Ethan turned toward me, shocked. "Selina… you never told me that."
I looked at him, guilt cutting through me. "I didn't remember. Not until last night."
Mara walked closer. "Then Halo remembering you isn't a coincidence. It's memory seeking its creator."
Adrian stood abruptly. "That's enough. We'll continue this later. Everyone out."
The room emptied slowly, tension thick enough to taste. When the doors shut, Adrian exhaled and turned to me. "Is any of that true?"
"Yes," I admitted quietly. "But I didn't tell anyone because I didn't think it mattered anymore."
He paced, rubbing his temple. "You're in danger, Selina. If Halo knows who you are, it won't stop."
I stepped closer. "Then help me stop it first."
He looked at me for a long time before nodding slightly. "Meet me after hours. We'll talk then—somewhere secure."
As I left the room, I felt eyes following me—Claire's worried, Ethan's confused, Mara's calculating.
My phone buzzed. A new message appeared with no sender ID.
"You can't hide from what you created."
I closed my eyes and took a breath. I wasn't the same woman who once hid behind office walls and quiet intelligence. I was the woman who built the monster—and the one who would end it.
Tomorrow, Halo would learn that even code could fear its creator.