Chapter 80: Nell’s POV

It was the silence that scared me the most.

When I woke up, there was no sound—no footsteps, no beeping machines, no voices shouting orders behind glass. Just my own breath, rough and shaky, and the dull ache in every muscle. For a long time, I lay still, listening, trying to make sense of what happened.

I remembered pain. Cold metal. Alex’s face on the other side of thick glass, his eyes wild and desperate. The flash of a bright light, a scream—mine or someone else’s, I wasn’t sure. Then nothing. Darkness swallowing me whole.

Now, I was awake again. But I didn’t feel alive. I felt… erased, like someone had scrubbed away every part of me that mattered.

I sat up slowly. My head spun, and the world threatened to tilt sideways. But I forced myself to focus.

The room was white—so white it hurt my eyes. The walls, the floor, even the single chair in the corner. The only thing that didn’t match was the door: a heavy slab of gray metal with no handle on my side. There were no windows. Just a faint hum from above, probably a camera or a vent. I hugged my knees to my chest, shivering even though the air was warm.

How long had I been here? Where was Alex? Where was anyone?

I checked my arms and legs for marks. There was a bruise on my wrist, another on my ankle. No hospital bracelet, no IV, nothing to tell me I was still in the world I knew. I pressed my palm against the floor, grounding myself in the smallest details—the cool tile, the way my skin prickled when I moved. It helped a little.

Time passed. I tried to count seconds, then minutes, but it was pointless. I’d never been good at waiting, but here, waiting was all I could do. My mind wandered, picking at the threads of old memories.

I saw Lena’s smile, my mother’s tired eyes, my brother’s scowl at breakfast. I saw Rick, too, his nervous hands and the way he always seemed to know something I didn’t. Most of all, I saw Alex—sometimes with a smile, sometimes crying, sometimes furious, always reaching for me.

Was he looking for me now? Did he even remember me, after everything they did?

A crackle of static startled me. A hidden speaker somewhere above my head. My heart raced.

“Eleanor Hayes.” The voice was low and calm, not like a guard or a scientist. It sounded almost bored. “You’re awake.”

I swallowed. “Where am I?”

No answer. Just more static. I stood up, angry and shaking. “Where is Alex? What do you want from me?”

The silence stretched so long I thought they’d left me alone again.

Then, finally: “You’re safe. For now.”

Safe. I almost laughed. What a joke.

I paced the room, trying not to scream. I wanted to punch the wall, break the chair, do anything to feel real again. But there was nothing here to fight except myself.

My voice cracked. “Why am I here? What did you do to me?”

Static. Then the voice, cool and distant: “You’re not a prisoner, Eleanor. You’re a case study. The most interesting one we’ve ever had.”

I froze. “A case study?”

“Yes. You and Alex Carter are the only ones who broke the system. You’re the only ones who remembered. We need to know how.”

I stared at the ceiling, rage boiling under my skin. “So you’re going to erase me again? Try to fix your mistake?”

A faint chuckle. “Not erase. Not yet. First, we watch. We see what happens when love is tested beyond all limits.”

I wrapped my arms tighter around myself. “You’re monsters.”

“We’re scientists,” the voice replied, almost gentle. “We’re trying to understand what makes you… unbreakable.”

Unbreakable. I felt anything but.

The voice faded, leaving me alone with the buzzing in my ears.

I sank down against the wall, knees pulled up, trying to hold myself together. I tried to remember the feeling of Alex’s arms around me, the way he whispered my name in the dark. Tried to make it real, even here.

But all I felt was empty. Like something important had been stolen out of my chest.

Time drifted. I let my mind wander, trying not to cry. I remembered my first day at PBU, meeting Lena, the rain, the way life used to feel like something I was living, not just surviving. I wondered if I’d ever have that again.

Then, a faint click.

A small panel slid open in the far wall—a window of thick glass, maybe half a meter wide. At first, I saw nothing but more white. But then, slowly, the lights in the next room flickered on.

A bank of screens lined the opposite wall. On the largest one, I saw Alex.

It wasn’t really him—just a recording, maybe a live feed. He looked tired, haunted, still in the black jacket he wore the last time I saw him. He paced a room much like mine, eyes wild, fists clenched.

“Alex…” I breathed, pressing my hand to the glass.

He couldn’t see me. He didn’t even know I was here.

On the screen, a man in a lab coat entered. Not Reed. Not Dr. Cross. Someone else. He started asking Alex questions—about me, about our memories, about the project. Alex’s answers were clipped, angry. He refused to give them anything.

But when they mentioned my name, he stopped. His whole body seemed to fold in on itself. He closed his eyes and just… broke. The kind of pain you can’t fake.

I wiped my eyes, trying not to cry. “I’m here, Alex. I’m still here.”

In my own room, a notebook and pencil slid through a slot in the door. A test, I realized. They wanted to see what I would write. What I would remember.

I ignored it. I pressed my forehead to the glass, willing Alex to hear me, even across miles and walls and all this pain.

The speaker crackled again. “We’re running a simulation,” the voice said, soft now. “We want to know if he’ll break without you. If his memories will survive.”

I closed my eyes. “He’ll never forget me. No matter what you do.”

The voice didn’t answer.

I watched the screens, hour after hour, as Alex refused to give them what they wanted. He talked about me. He fought for me. He never once let them see him break.

I wondered if I was as strong as him.

When I was finally too tired to watch, I curled up on the floor, hugging the notebook to my chest. I let myself dream, just for a moment, that he could hear me.

A sharp clang jerked me awake. The lights in my room turned red, then off. Darkness swallowed me.

The speaker came on one last time, voice colder now, almost gleeful:

“Let’s see how far he’s willing to go… before we erase him too.”

I pressed my face to the glass, searching for any last glimpse of Alex.

And then everything went black.