Every perfect system fears only one enemy:
the mistake that cannot be named.
The K-7 complex awoke with a different pulse. It wasn't an open alarm or a
declared emergency, but something more subtle: increased vigilance, an
overly orderly silence, an exaggerated precision in the movements of the
personnel.
Elián felt it before anyone said it out loud.Desire
had learned to wait.
Now the system had learned to observe.As she walked down the central corridor, she noticed the changes: new sensors in
theRoofs, static drones hovering in corners where there had been nothing before,
guards who no longer spoke to each other. Everything was efficient. Too efficient.
"Routine check," one of the soldiers told him as he scanned his ID. "Don't stop."
Elián nodded and continued walking, but his body was on
alert.The mistake had already happened.
All that remained was to discover who had noticed it first.
In the central analysis room, Lysa was waiting for him in front of a wall of
data.projected. His expression was tense, concentrated.
"We have a problem," he said bluntly.
Elián approached.
"What kind of problem?"
Lysa pointed to the
graphs.
"Data cross-referencing," he explained. "Patterns that shouldn't match... but they
do."
Elián immediately recognized the signs: inexplicable synchronicities,
simultaneous variations in two subjects who had never shared physical space
at that moment.
"That's not possible," he said cautiously.
"Exactly," Lysa replied. "That's why it's a mistake."
Elián felt a knot in his stomach.
—Who else has seen
this?Lysa hesitated for a
second.
"Commander Hale," he admitted. "And she requested a full analysis of the subjects
involved."
Elián didn't need to ask who they were.
"Lysa…" she said softly. "What do you think?"She stared at him.
"I think there's something here that doesn't fit the models," he said. "And when that
It happens, the Confederation doesn't investigate... it eliminates.
Elian swallowed hard.
"Can I see the origin of the crossing?" he
asked. Lysa nodded and zoomed in on the
image.
Over therewas.
An overlap of biological rhythms.
A perfect temporal coincidence between two distinct vital signatures.
Human.
Kha'Reth.
"This shouldn't exist," Elián murmured.
"But it exists," Lysa said. "And someone's going to pay for it."
Meanwhile, in the containment sector, Kael perceived the change as a constant
pressure, an uncomfortable vibration beneath his skin. It wasn't a direct threat, but it
was a warning.
The guards moved
differently.The air was heavy.
When he was taken out of his cell for an unexpected evaluation, Kael did not
protest.He observed. He listened. He sniffed the fear contained in the humans who
surrounded him.
Something had broken.
The assessment room was smaller this time, more enclosed. The containment areaIt
was reinforced.
"Sit down," a technician
ordered. Kael obeyed.
"Reason for the evaluation?" he asked.
The technician avoided his gaze.—Anomalies in response. Kael
understood.
The system had detected the link.
Not with words.
With numbers.
When the neural sensors were activated, Kael felt a wave of discomfort. NoPain.
Invasion.
His body reacted reflexively.
And in another part of the complex, Elián stopped abruptly.
The pressure in his chest was immediate and intense. He didn't need sensors to
know thatSomething was wrong.
—Kael… —she
whispered.The
error was amplified.
In the evaluation room, the monitors began to flicker.
"What's happening?" a technician asked.
"The patterns are becoming outdated," another replied. "It's reacting to something
external."
"There are no external stimuli," replied the first
one.But Kael did feel them.
Not as images. As
absence.
Elian was not regulating his pulse.
Not because I didn't want to, but because I didn't know what was
happening.The synchronization became erratic.
"Stop the scan," a voice ordered over the communicator.
Commander Hale appeared behind the glass."This confirms my suspicions," she said. "There's unauthorized
interference." Kael looked up and stared at her.
"It's not interference," he said. "It's a
bond." Hale frowned.
—There is no such thing between incompatible species.
"It exists," Kael replied calmly. "Even if they don't understand
it." Hale watched him silently for several long seconds.
—Isolate the subject—he ordered. —Complete cutoff
of stimuli.The containment area was completely
closed.
The connection was lost.
And Elián felt the blow as if something had been ripped from
his chest. He fell to his knees in the hallway, his breathing
ragged.
"Dr. Rowe," said a voice. "Come with us." Two
guards flanked him.
"What's happening?" he asked, even though he already knew.
"It has been identified as the likely source of the error," one replied.Commander
Hale wants to see him.
Hale's office was cold, immaculate, calculated.
—Sit down—she ordered.
Elián obeyed.
"You are brilliant, doctor," he continued. "That's why I'm disappointed in you."
"I haven't violated any protocol," Elián said firmly.
"Not consciously," Hale replied. "But his body did." Elian
looked up.—What do you mean?
Hale activated a projection.
The data floated between
them.
"His biological signature," he explained. "It reacts to that of subject Kael even
when there is no contact. That's not a coincidence. It's an anomaly."
"Or a discovery," Elián said. Hale
shook his head slowly.
—Not when it puts control at risk.
Elián felt anger, but he contained it.
"What do you plan to do?" he asked.
"Separate them," Hale replied. "Definitely."
Elian's world shrank.
"That could destabilize him," he said. "And me."
"You're replaceable," Hale replied emotionlessly. "He's not."
The silence was brutal.
"I'll give you a choice," she added. "Cooperate. Help us deactivate the link. Or you'll
both be removed from the project."
Elian closed his eyes for a second.
Desire had learned to wait.Now the
system demanded resignation.
"I can't do that," he finally said. Hale
watched him with absolute coldness.
—Then you are the mistake.
That night, Kael remained alone, completely isolated. Out of sync. Without a
pulse.Shared. No anchor.
Her body reacted with suppressed violence. Not outwardly, but inwardly.And for the first time since his capture, he felt
fear.No to death.
To lose it.
Elsewhere in the complex, Elián was escorted to a sealed room.Not a
cell.
A limbo.
He leaned his back against the wall and breathed heavily.
"Hold on," he whispered. "Please, hold
on." He didn't know if Kael could sense
But he tried.
Because even when the system breaks
down,the body remembers.
And the mistake…
It could no longer be erased.