The rain had finally stopped, but the city didn't feel clean.
It felt hollow — like the storm had only washed away the lies on the surface, leaving the rot underneath untouched.
Adrian parked the car in the underground garage of one of his safehouses. The drive had been silent. Lena hadn't said a word since they left the ruins.
When they stepped inside, she went straight to the sink, washed the blood from her hands, and stared at her reflection in the mirror.
The water was pink.
Not from blood — from something else.
Tiny streaks of silver shimmered where the water met her skin.
"Adrian…" her voice trembled. "What's happening to me?"
He crossed the room quickly, catching her wrist and lifting it into the light. The shimmer pulsed faintly under her skin like veins of mercury.
His face darkened. "No."
"What is it?"
He looked at her, pain and disbelief in his eyes. "It's residue from the Phoenix serum."
---
Lena pulled back, shaking her head. "No, I was never injected—"
"You were," he said quietly. "It's in your file, Lena. Marcus used a prototype serum that bonded with your DNA. That's why Victor wants you."
She took a step back, trembling. "You said it was just a memory experiment."
"It was more than that," Adrian said. "The serum was designed to rewrite neural trauma by regenerating pathways in the brain. But Marcus discovered it did more than change memory—it changed people."
"Changed them how?"
Adrian hesitated. "It made them unstable. Some lost entire pieces of their identity. Others developed symptoms… visions, hallucinations, even enhanced cognitive perception. You were the only one who survived without losing your mind."
Lena stared at him in horror. "You're saying I'm some kind of experiment?"
"No," he said softly. "You're the result of one. The only success."
---
She turned away, gripping the edge of the counter to steady herself. "So that's why I can remember things that never happened. Why I see places I've never been. They're not flashbacks—they're implants."
"Or suppressed memories resurfacing," Adrian said.
Tears blurred her vision. "Either way, they don't feel like mine."
He moved closer but didn't touch her. "You're still you, Lena. No serum can take that from you."
She met his eyes, voice breaking. "You don't understand. If Marcus made me, then what am I? Who am I?"
"You're the woman who saved me," he said. "That's who."
---
A long silence stretched between them — broken only by the soft hum of the city lights filtering through the window.
Finally, Lena whispered, "You knew, didn't you? You suspected all along."
"I didn't want to believe it," Adrian admitted. "But when the doctor ran your bloodwork after the attacks, I saw traces of the serum's molecular compound. I kept it from you because I thought it was dormant."
"Dormant?" she repeated, her voice shaking. "You mean it's waking up?"
He didn't answer.
That silence was enough.
---
Suddenly, a sharp pain tore through her skull. Lena cried out, collapsing to her knees. Adrian caught her before she hit the floor.
"Lena!"
Her eyes flickered open — but they weren't the same. Her pupils dilated, her irises glowing faintly gold.
Her voice came out distorted, overlapping with another, colder tone.
> "The Phoenix remembers."
Adrian's blood ran cold. "Lena—"
She looked at him, and for a terrifying second, she didn't seem to recognize him.
Then her eyes rolled back, and she went limp in his arms.
---
Hours later, Lena awoke in a darkened bedroom. Her head pounded, but the glow was gone. Adrian sat beside the bed, exhausted but alert.
"What happened?" she asked weakly.
"You blacked out," he said softly. "I ran a scan. The serum's reactivated. It's rewriting your neural pathways — it's trying to restore the data Marcus erased."
She frowned. "Data?"
"Your memories," he said. "The ones they forced you to forget."
Her breath trembled. "And if it finishes?"
"Then you'll remember everything."
"Even what I'm not supposed to?"
He nodded slowly. "Even that."
---
She stared up at the ceiling, her voice barely audible. "And if I'm not strong enough?"
Adrian reached for her hand, gripping it gently. "Then I'll hold you through it. Every second. Every memory. You're not alone."
Tears slipped down her cheeks. "That's what my father used to say."
He smiled faintly. "He was right."
For a moment, it almost felt peaceful — the kind of fragile calm that comes before a storm.
Then Adrian's phone buzzed.
He checked the message, his expression turning to stone.
Lena's pulse quickened. "What is it?"
He handed her the phone.
On the screen was a photo — the two of them sleeping, taken from the window outside.
And the caption beneath it:
> She's waking up too fast. You'll have to choose which one survives.
---
Lena's breath hitched. "He's watching us."
Adrian's eyes burned with fury. "Then let him watch. Because the next time he gets this close…"
He chambered his gun with a sharp click.
> "It'll be his last mistake."