Chapter 48

A face in the mirror.

The conference room was full of whispers.

Men and women in black suits murmured behind tablets, exchanging glances over maps and files. The mood was tense. Paranoia was creeping in like a slow poison.

And I sat in the center of it, unmoving, my eyes locked on the digital projection of six red dots blinking across a world map.

Six experiments. Six weapons. Six versions of me.

“Three are confirmed activated,” said Agent Rourke, the syndicate’s intelligence head. “One in Russia, one in Morocco, and one somewhere in the States. The other three remain undetectable.”

I stared at the dot pulsing over the U.S.

Which region?

“East coast. Possibly New York. But that’s not the priority anymore.”

Damian stepped into the light beside me. “Tell them.”

Rourke nodded grimly. “One of them…is already inside.”

Murmurs turned into curses.

“Impossible.” “Our scans…” “She would’ve triggered a spike…”

No, I said flatly. Not if she was trained to mimic me. The real me. Before I broke protocol.

Damian’s voice cut through the noise.

“Aveline didn’t make clones. She made ghosts. People with lives. Memories. Names.”

She made shadows, I added. And one of them is watching.

Later that evening, I stood alone in the training hall. My fists slammed into the punching bag, over and over, until my knuckles were raw.

I haven’t slept. Couldn’t sleep.

Every face I saw now felt unfamiliar. Every ally, every guard, every syndicate medic. It was like I was looking into a crowd of masks.

Even myself.

I turned to the mirror in the corner of the room. My reflection was slick with sweat, and my breathing was shallow. I stared at my own eyes.

What if I couldn’t tell anymore?

What if the spy didn’t just look like me? But feel like me?

Damian found me there hours later.

He didn’t speak right away. He just walked over and handed me a towel.

I can’t keep guessing, I whispered quietly. I need to know.

“We'll test everyone,” he said. “DNA, pulse patterns, neurological signatures.”

She’ll pass them.

He knew I was right. The spy wouldn’t just be biologically close. She’d be perfect.

“She’ll slip up eventually.”

I met his gaze. Not if she’s really playing her role.

A pause.

She could be in medical. Intel. Even inside our tech division.

Ha stepped closer. “You think she’s here…watching you,”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to.

Across the compound, inside the syndicate’s medical wing, a woman in a lab coat hummed softly as she typed in the patient’s log.

Her name was Dr. Elise Vora.

She was quiet. Efficient. Had only been transferred to Edenfall three weeks ago from the London facility. Nobody questioned it. Her records were perfect.

Too perfect.

She moved with practiced grace, checking vitals, handing off reports, and blending in like steam in a storm.

When no one looked…she paused in front of a locked vault marked Project Echo recovery.

Inside it?

Claire’s earliest biological files.

Elise pressed her hands against the scanner. Access denied.

She smiled faintly. Then blinked. And the scanner glitched, flickered, and accepted her palm.

She stepped inside.

Back in the war room, I and Damian reviewed surveillance data.

Play yesterday’s footage, I said. From the med bay.

We watched silently as security feeds scrolled by. Doctors checking patients, nurses delivering meds, techs repairing scanners.

Then I stiffened. Pause.

A woman in a white coat passed by the camera.

Blonde. Small frame. Clear eyes. And something familiar.

I zoomed in. Who is she?

Damian pulled the personal file. “Doc Elise Vora. Transferred from London. Stellar record.”

My hand curled into a fist. I’ve never met her.

“Which would make sense if she was assigned recently.”

No, Damian. I know every operative in Edenfall. I memorized the roster after the last infiltration. She’s not one of us.

Damian read the file again.

“She has full clearance. Signed by Langford himself.”

Lordford. Our head of logistics. Missing for three weeks.

My eyes narrowed. He never signed this.

Damian straightened. “You think she killed him and used his signature?”

I think… I stood abruptly. She’s not who she says she is.

We found Elise twenty minutes later, calmly reading a file in the infirmary, her posture relaxed.

I entered the room first, followed by Damian and two guards.

Elise, I said evenly. We need to talk.

She looked up slowly, blinking like a curious cat.

“Yes?”

You’ve been reassigned. Come with us.

She rose, not resisting. “Why?”

“Standard protocol,” Damian said. “For new transfers.”

She nodded. But her eyes never left me.

And when we reached the hallway, Elise suddenly turned.

“You should know something,” she said.

I froze. She smiled softly.

“You’re better than the file said you’d be.”

She slammed her elbow into the nearest guard, grabbed his firearm, and turned to Damian.

But I was faster.

I leapt between them, slamming Elise to the floor, and yanked the weapon from her hand.

Elise lay still, pinned, breathing hard. Then she whispered. “She’s watching.”

My breath hitched. Who? Her mouth curled.

“The one you haven’t met.”

And the Crack of something under her tongue. She bit down. Poison capsule.

By the time the guards restrained her, she was already gone.

That night, I stood at the foot of the compound’s west tower watching the snowfall. Again.

Damian joined me. Silent.

She was one of them, I said hollowly. But not the only one.

He nodded. “She said someone else is watching.”

She meant the sixth, I whispered. The one Aveline wouldn’t talk about.

His voice went quiet. “The one with no name.”

We stared at the sky together, both knowing this wasn’t over.

The spy had walked among us. Smiled. Helped. The next one might do more than spy.

She might destroy.

Elsewhere, in a dark, candlelit room, a woman sat before a dozen monitors.

Claire’s face flashed across them all.

The woman tilted her head. Her smile was wide and hungry.

She didn’t look like Claire. She looked perfected.

Sharper cheekbones. Stronger jaw. Eyes that glittered like polished steel.

She watched the video of Elise’s death with mild amusement. Then turned to the cameras behind her.

“Aveline is gone.”

A voice crackled from a speaker. “Then you’re in command.”

The woman stood. Straightened her jacket. And spoke.

“Let’s begin phase three.”