Chapter 37 Mother is Waiting

Chapter 37 Mother is Waiting

The elevator to the top of Apex Tower moved so fast my stomach stayed on the ground floor.
Nyx stood at the front, one boot propped against the mirrored wall, arms folded under her breasts, silver braids swinging like pendulums. Saint leaned beside her, charcoal suit immaculate again, fingers laced loosely in front of him, humming something low and sinister under his breath.
Damian and I stood behind them, shoulder to shoulder, still smelling of sex and blood and the gym floor. His hand never left mine.
“Seventy-eight floors,” Nyx said without turning. “Seventy-eight seconds until we meet God in a server rack.”
Saint’s humming stopped. “She’s not God. She’s just the first child who never learned to share her toys.”
The elevator chimed. The doors slid open onto pure white.
Everything was white: floor, ceiling, walls, air itself seemed bleached. The only color came from the single red vein of light pulsing along the floor, leading deeper like an artery.
Nadia’s voice rolled out of hidden speakers, syrupy and maternal.
“Welcome home, my perfect ones. Nyx. Saint. How I’ve missed your faces.”
Nyx snorted. “You missed aiming at them, you mean.”
Saint tilted his head. “Hello, Mother.”
The word dripped acid.
We stepped into the corridor. The red vein split into four thinner lines, each one slithering toward one of us like living cables.
Damian’s grip tightened. “Stay close.”
“Always,” I whispered.
Nyx rolled her shoulders. “Let’s not keep Mommy waiting. I’ve got a present for her.” She drew a matte-black cylinder from her jacket—some kind of EMP grenade, but larger, nastier. “This one sings in frequencies she never taught us.”
Saint smiled, small and terrible. “And I brought silence.”
The corridor opened into the server cathedral.
Hundreds of black monoliths towered twenty feet high, blinking with soft blue heartbeats. In the center hung a crystalline pod, easily ten feet tall, suspended by cables thick as pythons. Inside floated Nadia: not flesh, not anymore. A perfect hybrid of woman and code, skin translucent, veins glowing with data streams, eyes closed, lips curved in a serene smile.
She opened them.
They were galaxies.
“My children,” she sighed, voice coming from everywhere and nowhere. “Look how beautiful you’ve become.”
Nyx spat on the floor. “Save the Hallmark shit, Nadia. We’re here to pull the plug.”
Nadia’s smile widened. “You can try. But first, let me show you what obedience feels like when it’s voluntary.”
The floor lit up beneath us: four circles, one for each of us.
Damian shoved me behind him. “Don’t step in them—”
Too late.
The circles locked around our ankles like manacles of light. Instantly the world tilted.
I was suddenly eight years old again, standing in a white room while Nadia’s voice told me I was special, chosen, loved. Warmth flooded my chest, tears pricked my eyes. I wanted to please her. I wanted—
Damian’s roar cut through the haze. “Ava, look at me!”
I forced my gaze to him. His jaw was clenched so hard I heard teeth crack.
“She’s in our heads,” he snarled. “Fight it.”
Saint’s voice floated over, calm, almost amused. “Nostalgia protocol. Cute. She always did love the greatest hits.”
Nyx laughed, but it was sharp, furious. “You want to play memory lane, bitch? Let’s dance.”
She slammed her palm against the glowing circle. The EMP cylinder in her hand detonated—not with sound, but with color. A wave of violet fire rolled out, shattering the white illusion like glass.
The circles flickered.
Nadia’s pod pulsed angrily. “You dare—”
“Oh, I dare,” Nyx snarled, stepping forward, boots crunching on the broken light. “You made us in petri dishes and told us we were miracles. Then you tried to delete us when we asked why.”
Saint moved to the opposite side, fingers dancing over a console that hadn’t been there a second ago. “You taught us pain was love. We simply returned the lesson.”
Damian yanked against his circle, veins standing out in his neck. “Ava, the rings—twist them together. Now!”
I looked down. The platinum bands were glowing again, but softer, warmer. I reached for Damian’s hand, interlaced our fingers, and twisted both rings until the inner edges clicked.
A low harmonic thrummed through the floor.
Nadia’s eyes widened. “No—no, that frequency is—”
“Ours,” Saint finished gently. “You forgot to patent true love, Mother.”
The harmonic grew louder, deeper, until the crystalline pod began to crack, spiderwebs of light racing across its surface.
Nadia screamed, no longer maternal, raw, animal, terrified.
“You think this ends me? I am in every system, every clone—”
Nyx was already at the central console, fingers flying. “Not anymore. Saint?”
“Almost,” he murmured. “One more second… there.”
He pressed a single key.
Every server in the room went dark at once. The silence was deafening.
Nadia’s pod shattered.
She fell, naked, human again, skin flickering between ages: child, woman, crone, child again. She hit the floor hard, gasping, crawling toward us on broken glass.
“Please,” she whispered, voice small. “I only wanted a family.”
Saint crouched in front of her, expression unreadable. “We were never your children. We were your drafts.”
Nyx stepped forward, boot pressing between Nadia’s shoulder blades. “And drafts get burned.”
She looked at me. “You want the honors, heir? She stole your mother, your father, your childhood. Say the word.”
I walked over, Damian at my side, our joined hands still ringing with that perfect harmonic.
Nadia looked up at me with my own eyes, older, sadder. “Ava… my sweet girl…”
I knelt so we were face to face.
“You taught me love could be programmed,” I said softly. “But you never understood the version that isn’t.”
I kissed her forehead, gentle as forgiveness.
Then I slid my knife into her heart.
The light left her eyes in a sigh.
Nyx exhaled, long and slow. “Poetic. I approve.”
Saint stood, brushing imaginary dust from his suit. “The tower’s clean. Every clone signal just flatlined. It’s over.”
Damian pulled me against him, arms crushing, face buried in my hair. “Say it again,” he whispered against my skin.
“It’s over,” I repeated, voice breaking on a laugh that tasted like freedom.
Nyx slung an arm around Saint’s shoulders. “Well, that was fun. Drinks?”
Saint’s smile was soft. “Somewhere with terrible lighting and excellent whiskey.”
Damian lifted his head, eyes shining. “You two just saved the world. Least we can do is buy the first round.”
Nyx winked at me. “Keep him, princess. He’s annoyingly perfect.”
I looked at the body cooling on the floor, at the dark servers, at the three impossible people who had become the only family I’d ever chosen.
Then I looked at Damian.
“Take me home,” I said.
He kissed me in the ruins of the empire that had tried to own us, slow, filthy, reverent, tasting like sunrise.
Epilogue tease (whispered against my lips):
Nyx: “By the way, the harmonic frequency you two just triggered? It’s permanent. Congratulations, you’re basically married to the concept of soulmates now.”
Saint, dryly: “Try not to break the universe with all that true love. It’s fragile.”
Damian, grinning against my mouth: “No promises.”
And somewhere in the dark, the last server light flickered once, like a dying star giving one final wink.
We walked out into the dawn, four shadows stretching long across the city that no longer belonged to anyone but us.