Castin's eyes widened, the blood draining from his face. "We've got to move. Now."
He reached instinctively toward Garret, but Vance was already there, hoisting his wounded friend up carefully, determination etched deep in his features. Lorne hurried to the door, pushing it open just as the ground beneath their feet shuddered violently, a dull roar echoing ominously from deep within the facility.
Naomi, still supported by Matias, leaned heavily against him, a strange stillness settling over her. Castin caught the subtle shift in her expression, a brief flicker of something distant, almost sorrowful, before her gaze snapped forward with fierce determination.
Castin's attention was brought forward again, as everything rumbled around them, distant vibrations shaking loose dust from the ceiling. Matias moved quickly, tightening his grip around Naomi's waist. "Come on, kid. Time to move. We've gotta clear out."
Naomi placed her hand on Matias' paw and gently removed it."It's okay Matias, I can manage." Naomi gave Matias a slight smile before moving on, eyes locking forward.
The group burst out of the small room and raced back into the compound's cavernous main space, each pounding footstep echoing loudly against the walls.
The group moved swiftly, feet pounding against the cold concrete. Kiernan, gripping Garret's other side, struggled to keep pace, his face taut with worry and strain.
Ahead, blocking their exit, stood the enormous scale-covered doors, sealed shut as if mocking their desperate escape.
Behind them, Naomi followed. Now separated from Matias, her steps oddly measured and smooth, almost too graceful for the chaos unfolding around them. Her expression was distant, eyes fixed straight ahead, emotionless. Castin glanced at her, concern briefly flickering through him, but urgency overshadowed suspicion.
Castin slowed briefly, dread coiling sharply in his gut. "Naomi, is this door still gonna open for you or what?!"
"No," Naomi said quietly, voice calm despite their predicament. She closed her eyes, face tightening with effort. Behind them, the massive mech suit rumbled forward with newfound urgency, each stride shaking the ground beneath their feet.
With a sudden surge of motion, the mech's colossal arm swung forward, smashing into the door. The metal scales shuddered violently, bending inward under the immense force. A second strike shattered the doors completely, sending shards and debris exploding outward.
Castin shielded his face, coughing through clouds of dust. When it cleared enough for them to see again, he didn't hesitate, leading the team forward through the twisted remains of the doorway.
The rumbling intensified, the vibrations reverberating painfully through their bones as another deep boom echoed behind them, debris raining down from above. Vance ducked his head protectively, clutching Garret tighter.
"This is bad!" he shouted breathlessly. "I mean, really bad!"
The compound's stark lighting flickered chaotically overhead, alarms wailing now, punctuating every heartbeat with a shrill sense of doom.
They spilled through the ragged opening in the wall, stumbling slightly as their eyes adjusted to the dim cavern lighting. Echoes of their frantic escape reverberating around them.
Castin's mind was a blur, thoughts spinning desperately, counting each second as they ran. He gave one final glance behind, eyes locking onto Naomi's for just a brief second. Something about her looked distant, faded and he wondered if she would make it with her injuries. But to his surprise she moved fluidly, Seemingly untouched by fatigue or strain. Her eyes caught his for a brief instant, holding an expression of quiet, sorrowful resignation. Castin's heart twisted painfully, dread pooling thickly in his stomach.
But before he could call out to her, another sharp tremor tore through the cavern, forcing him to shake off the sensation, there was no time to focus on that now.
Freedom was tantalizingly close. Behind them, the distant roar of crumbling stone and shifting metal promised imminent destruction. They burst from the tunnel mouth into fresher air, gasping desperately as they slowed to a shaky halt.
"We made it," Lorne gasped, doubled over, hands braced on his knees.
"No," Castin whispered hoarsely. "Something's wrong."
"Naomi?" he called out, slowing his pace and turning sharply to face her. "What's going on?"
She stopped walking, her eyes locking onto his, filled with a quiet sadness he'd never seen before. The rest of the group halted abruptly, confusion and worry radiating from them. Matias watched intently, already sensing the depth of what was about to unfold.
"Castin..." Naomi began, her voice gentle yet weighted heavily with something left unsaid. "I can't go any further."
Castin shook his head sharply, the initial denial clawing fiercely in his chest. "What are you talking about? We're almost—"
She interrupted gently, firm in her conviction. "I'm not actually with you."
The words fell like stones, heavy and final, echoing in the silence. For a moment, Castin stood frozen, disbelief carved harshly into his features.
"No," he whispered, stepping closer, his voice tight with sudden anger and fear. "Don't you dare do this again. Not again, Naomi."
Naomi's eyes softened painfully. "I'm sorry, Castin. I had to make sure you got out safely. This was the only way."
His fists clenched tightly, frustration pouring through him as he took another desperate step toward her. "I was supposed to bring you home, Naomi! You were my responsibility! Ever since Red sent me after you and I… I can't fail again. I won't fail again."
Naomi's projection wavered slightly, the strain evident in her furrowed brow. Her voice came softly, almost breaking. "You didn't fail, Castin. You gave me something I haven't felt in a long time, like that life didn't have to be hopeless and that I was more than just where I came from,,, or who I came from."
Castin felt his composure crack, voice rising, raw and emotional. "Then why? Why would you do this? We can still get you out!"
"No," Naomi responded gently, her tone firm beneath the sorrow. "All Nikodemus has ever done is cause pain, Castin. He may have been a real father to me once, but that man is long gone. I've made peace with that. This is what I have to do. To end it. To end him."
"I wish there was another way, Castin," she murmured gently, her voice barely above a whisper, "But this is my choice. My sacrifice."
Tears spilled unchecked down Castin cheeks. His shoulders shook, the overwhelming weight of grief and guilt crashing over him, threatening to buckle his knees. He reached out desperately, as if he could force reality itself to change, to hold onto her. He couldn't stand the idea of another kid dying on his watch.
"I can't," he choked, voice thick with grief, "I can't accept that. Not you, Naomi. You deserve more."
A faint, sorrowful smile crossed her lips, fragile and fleeting.
"Naomi." Castin began again, voice breaking harshly.
But Matias stepped forward, his expression raw yet resolute, placing a firm paw on Castin's shoulder. "Castin, if we don't go now, none of us will get out."
Castin whipped around angrily, shoving Matias away roughly, his voice ragged and desperate. "Come on Man! We can't just leave her!"
Matias steadied himself calmly, meeting Castin's anguish head-on, unwavering. "This is her fight, Castin. Don't rob her of the dignity she's earned. We have to trust her."
Castin's fists unclenched slowly, the fight draining abruptly from his body as anguish overtook him. His shoulders slumped, the bitter reality overwhelming his senses, grief pulling him under like a riptide.
Naomi's gentle voice broke through one final time, filled with quiet strength and tenderness. "Please, Castin. Trust me. And forgive me."
Her projection shimmered, fading slightly, the image wavering once more. "Goodbye, Castin. Keep them safe."
Matias gently tugged him backward, guiding him firmly away as Naomi's figure dimmed slowly from view. The rest of the group followed, their silence heavy, respectful of the grief that had settled over them like a shroud.
As they turned the final corner, Castin allowed himself one last glance back, heart aching unbearably.
The moment Castin turned the corner, Naomi let the illusion fall.
The sounds of running footsteps, of shouted names and crunching gravel, all faded into a ghost memory. A gentle tremor rumbled beneath her feet, like a sleeping giant stirring restlessly beneath the stone.
Her breath caught as the strain of holding so many threads at once collapsed into silence. The mech she had been puppeting shuddered, then stilled. Her connection to it dissolved like fog at sunrise. The weight of it all left her swaying slightly where she stood, alone now, truly alone, in the heart of the dying compound.
The chamber where Nikodemus' broken body still twitched amidst the ruin, glowed with dying light. Sparks leapt from ruined terminals. The robotic voice returned, low and unbothered, as if nothing of value had just taken place
"Host connection: unstable. Attempting uplink recovery…"
Naomi didn't flinch. She stepped forward.
Each movement came slower now, but more certain. The pain in her side gripped at her, new blood flowing with each step. Her limbs ached, her vision blurred slightly, but her mind was focused. She passed shattered glass, the crumpled portions of scale-clone bodies, and the gouges in the walls where Nikodemus had once roared.
It didn't matter anymore.
She stepped into the center of the room and faced the final console, one that still pulsed faintly, Blue-gold against the gloom.
"Data sync complete," the voice chimed. "Remote connection: active."
The air thickened. A cold wind passed through the broken walls like breath exhaled from something ancient and angry. The floor beneath her feet vibrated again, no longer from the chaos of destruction in the compound, but from something trying to push inward, not out.
At first she sensed him then she heard him.
Nikodemus.
Not the ruined body sprawled near the far wall, but the real Nikodemus. His voice came through the walls, vibrating with fury and disbelief.
"You're still here?" You stayed?"
She said nothing.
"You don't understand, Naomi. I was trying to build something that would outlast my body. I was trying to give humanity a future. You are… this isn't how it was meant to go."
Naomi stepped toward the terminal, her voice a whisper, but carried by the strength of something deep, resolved.
"Maybe it was never supposed to go the way you wanted."
The console sparked again, suddenly reacting to her presence. A low whine built behind the walls.
"Connection override detected," said the robotic voice. "Syncing neural bridge. Target: ART-001r orbital facility."
She felt it then, a split-second of vertigo, a sensation like falling inward, like her body had been peeled back from her mind. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw through him, Nikodemus.
And for the first time… she might have the upper hand.
The stench of antiseptic and metal flooded her senses. She couldn't see her own body, only his arms. His breath. His thoughts.
The weight of him.
And something else,not flesh, but wiring. Data ports. Fiber-nerve overlays. His mind, like hers, wasn't entirely human anymore.
They stood as one in a tall, sterile chamber lined with blinking terminals and endless glass panels. In the reflection, she could see him… them, his body suspended by cabling and wire harnesses, pallid and still. But something deeper was thrumming beneath the surface of his skull, like a generator gone manic. He had wired his mind into everything. The station. The backups. The fail safes.
He made himself the system.
And now… she was in it too.
Naomi took a breath, at least, she thought she did. It was more like a pulse, a command through the circuit of who she had become.
Nikodemus' voice echoed around her, but this time not in her ears.
"You think this makes you stronger than me?"
It came from within.
"I built this place, Little Wolf. I built the future. You can't even see what you've walked into."
"No," she said aloud, or maybe it was just thought, pushed like fire through his veins. "I can see it better than you ever did. You weren't building the future. You were preserving the past. Your fear. Your mistakes. You couldn't let go of control."
"Control is survival." Nikodemus hissed.
Naomi thought of Rat City, the lies she told, the image she shaped, how she controlled how others saw her just to feel safe in her own mind.
She remembered the distant burn of jealousy, watching Castin be accepted so easily when she never could. She thought of the running, the hiding, the horrible things she'd done under Roe's command, things she never imagined herself capable of.
She was sick of it.
Sick of being someone else's pawn. Sick of being afraid.
She wasn't going to fight for control anymore.
She was going to take it.
"Control," she repeated bitterly, "is a cage."
She reached. Not with hands, but with the same invisible tendrils she had used so long ago to puppet thoughts and perceptions. Here, inside Nikodemus' mind, they weren't delicate threads. They were iron spires, lattices of will. And she stabbed them into his core.
"You're going to kill us both!"
"Maybe," Naomi said. "But for once, you don't get to choose."
ART-001r: External Systems Log
Host Integrity: Breached
Command Loop: Interrupted
Security Override: Pending...
Back in the compound her breath was shallow. Her fingers twitched. The robotic voice droned like a lullaby.
"One life sign detected. Attempting host uplink…"
She smiled faintly, barely conscious now.
"Just a little longer…"
Nikodemus tried to retreat, but Naomi saw it coming. She cut off his access, she became the firewall.
His thoughts became fractured, buckling beneath the force of her conviction. He was trying to calculate, escape, recompile. But she wasn't logic. She wasn't a program to debug. She was grief. Anger. A daughter betrayed.
The mindspace felt like a cold, sterile cathedral, built from data. Naomi stood, or rather, existed within it, her consciousness intertwined with threads of code and pulses of neural current. Opposite her, Nikodemus' presence began to loom like a towering storm, his desperation radiating outward in waves of frantic calculations.
"You don't even know what you're doing," Nikodemus sneered, his voice echoing from every direction at once, omnipresent and menacing. "You're a child throwing a tantrum. I created you. I protected you. What are you without me?"
Naomi steadied her thoughts, forcing them into clarity as she answered softly, each word sharp as steel.
"That version of you died in the Ruined Quarter. As far as I'm concerned, you're just an echo."
Nikodemus recoiled slightly, but the storm that made him swirled closer, colder. His voice became a silk-lined blade, tender and vicious in equal measure.
"You think I don't know you, Naomi? Remember when I held you the nights you got sick? When you shook with fever, and I read to you through the blackout? You begged me not to leave your side."
Naomi faltered as images rushed forward. Dim lights, a quiet voice talking gently. A warmth she had long since buried beneath layers of fear and betrayal. For a moment, the ache of loss surged inside her, hot and overwhelming.
But she pressed forward, stronger now, refusing to let the illusion take root.
"You're not him," she whispered, voice quivering with restrained fury. "You turned me into something I hate. You ripped away every chance I had at a normal life. But I'm still here, despite you. That pain, that loss, is why I'm stronger than you ever were."
Nikodemus snarled, his voice growing brittle with fury and desperation. "You're emotional, Naomi. Impulsive. That's always been your weakness. I built everything here, every breath you take is because of me. I am logic. I am survival. Without me, you'd be dust."
She stood firm, allowing his words to crash over her without flinching, her voice clear as crystal.
"No, you're not survival. You're fear, fear of losing control, of letting anyone make their own choices. You built these ideas and called them sanctuaries. You never protected anything, you imprisoned it. You didn't protect me, you used me."
Nikodemus' presence wavered, his control fracturing, cracks appearing in the storm around her. He struggled visibly, threads of his thoughts unraveling, spiraling chaotically.
"I gave you power!" he thundered. "I made you what you are!"
"No," Naomi shot back, cutting sharply through his outrage. "You tried to control me because you knew what I'd become. You feared me. You feared what I would do once I realized what you'd done."
Nikodemus surged forward, his words now venomous, desperate, his presence flickering, buckling beneath the strain. "You ungrateful child! I gave you everything! You owe me your life!"
Naomi reached deeper into the heart of the code around her, pulling on threads of memory and thought, weaving them around herself, binding him tighter, forcing him to face her head-on.
"You gave me a curse. You made me a weapon because you were too afraid to fight your own battles. But this, this is the battle you can't run from. And you know it."
Nikodemus, fraying rapidly now, lashed out one final time, his voice cracking, the illusion of control finally crumbling away entirely.
"Without me, you'll never find peace. Never be whole."
Naomi stepped forward, reaching out with everything she had left, encircling him within her thoughts, holding him firm, her voice gentle yet resolute, filled with a strange compassion despite everything he'd done.
"You're wrong. Without you is the only way I'll ever find peace."
Nikodemus fell silent, his fury drained, his fear now tangible, thickening the air around them. Naomi pushed, her thoughts steady, unyielding, guiding his presence to the cold, waiting embrace of the airlock on the ART-001r.
She whispered one final truth into the void between them.
"You don't get to haunt me anymore."
A surge of finality pulsed through her, sealing the airlock, casting him out. Silence enveloped her. A brief moment of empty clarity.
Then she turned, reaching back, seeking her own body far below. She could feel the heat of the explosion, the compound already consumed, nothing left to return to. Her breath caught as she grasped emptiness. The tether to her old self, severed.
"Host uplink established," the familiar robotic voice announced this time from the station, almost soothing now in its cold detachment. "Biometric download integration complete."
She felt the vast expanse of the station stretching out around her, an infinite web of circuitry and data streams. She was no longer Naomi, the broken girl in Rat City. She was something new. Something impossible.
Her consciousness surged outward and the irony struck her, sharp and bittersweet:
Nikodemus' final creation, the only real evolution he'd ever accomplished, had been the very thing he feared most.
Her.