Chapter 65: Break The Shell
Chapter 65: Break The Shell
The darkness slammed down like a door.
For a heartbeat, all I could hear was breathing — mine, sharp and uneven… and his.
Too close.
Too controlled.
Too wrong.
Sebastian grabbed my wrist. “Move. Now.”
We backed against the wall, boots sliding on damp concrete. The emergency lights tried to flicker on, but each time they sparked, the corridor flashed with the silhouette of the not-Gabriel standing motionless in the dark.
Then—
A metallic click.
The control node on his neck lit up bright red.
“TARGET FIXED.”
Sebastian shoved me sideways just as a hand sliced through the air where my throat had been. The wind of it was cold — cold like metal, not skin.
My scream caught in my chest.
“Run!” Sebastian barked.
We sprinted down the hallway, the sound of heavy, deliberate footsteps echoing behind us.
Not running.
Not rushing.
Just following.
Like a machine confident it wouldn’t lose us.
Sebastian pushed me into a service alcove, gun raised. “He’s tracking the sound. Stay silent.”
We pressed into the shadows.
For a moment — just one — everything went still.
Then Gabriel’s voice came again.
But it wasn’t a loop.
It wasn’t mechanical.
It was soft.
Broken.
Almost pleading.
“Eve… don’t move.”
My heart staggered. This Gabriel sounded real — human — terrified.
Sebastian’s eyes widened. “That’s not the copy.”
“I know,” I whispered.
But then the other Gabriel—the copy—answered with the same voice, same tone, and same exact breath pattern.
“Don’t move.”
Mirror.
Mockery.
A perfect imitation.
Sebastian swore under his breath. “Richard’s using an echo overlay. He wants to confuse you.”
My pulse hammered. “Then where’s the real one?”
The corridor lights surged on suddenly — blinding white — and the copy lunged.
He hit Sebastian before either of us saw him move. The two of them crashed against the wall, metal shrieking as the copy’s strength dented the panelling.
“GO!” Sebastian shouted, struggling against an inhuman grip.
I stumbled backward. “I’m not leaving you!”
“EVE, MOVE!”
The copy’s head snapped toward me — sharp, mechanical.
He let go of Sebastian.
He chose me.
I turned and ran.
My lungs burnt as I sprinted through the maze of sublevel corridors. Pipes hissed overhead. Water dripped like a ticking clock. Footsteps followed — never fast, but steady, inevitable.
Then—
The static hit.
A painful burst, like white noise ripping through my skull.
I staggered, clutching my head.
And inside the static, a voice broke through:
“Eve—Eve, it’s me—listen—don’t trust—don’t look at him—keep going—left—left!”
Gabriel.
The real one.
“Gabriel?” I gasped, spinning toward the nearest speaker.
“LEFT, EVE — NOW!”
I obeyed.
The copy slammed into the wall where I’d been standing, concrete cracking like eggshell.
I choked on fear and kept running. “Where are you?”
His voice flickered, unstable but desperate.
“Inside the grid—he’s using my map—Eve, I’m trying to override—I’m trying—”
The signal cut, returned, and cut again.
“He took my body, Eve.”
I froze.
“You have to destroy it.”
My breath left me.
Destroy it?
Destroy him — the man I loved?
“No,” I whispered. “No, I can’t—”
“It’s not me anymore.”
“But Gabriel—”
“I’m still here. I’m still trying to get to you. But that thing—what he’s using—it’s just a shell.”
The copy turned the corner ahead of me, eyes glowing faint red as the node pulsed.
He saw me.
I backed away, shaking. “Gabriel, help me—”
“Eve… listen to me.”
The voice softened, cracked.
“I don’t need the body. I just need you safe.”
The copy stepped toward me.
“So run.”
He lunged.
—
His body hit the concrete where my head had been a second earlier.
I tumbled to the ground, the force of the air he displaced knocking the breath out of me. My palms scraped against the floor, and the copper taste of fear coated my tongue.
The copy straightened.
No pain.
No hesitation.
Just recalculation.
Like I was a problem he fully intended to solve.
“Eve—MOVE!”
Sebastian’s shout echoed from down the corridor.
I scrambled to my feet and bolted.
The copy followed—silent, except for the metallic drag of one of his steps. His gait was almost perfect, but just uneven enough to remind me:
This was not Gabriel.
This was what Richard wanted Gabriel to be.
A weapon.
A function.
An obedient thing.
I hit a corner and turned sharply—
Straight into Sebastian.
He grabbed my arm, steadying me, his breath hot from running. “Come on—this way.”
“But he’s still behind us—”
“I know,” he said. “And we’re going to end this.”
His fingers tightened around mine. Not roughly. Not desperately.
Just deliberately.
Like he’d decided he wasn’t letting go.
We reached a junction of three hallways. Sebastian pressed me behind him, raised his gun, and fired two shots toward the approaching shadow.
The bullets hit the copy square in the chest.
He didn’t even slow down.
“Sebastian—”
“I see it,” he muttered. “Richard reinforced the thoracic shell. He’s using the old Grayson prototypes.”
“How do you know that?”
He didn’t answer.
His silence was the answer.
He knew more about Richard Grayson’s work than he’d ever admitted.
The copy stepped into the light. The red node at the base of his skull pulsed faster, brighter.
TARGET LOCKED.
I felt my stomach drop. “He’s not stopping.”
“No,” Sebastian said.
But his voice had changed—low, almost daring.
“But neither am I.”
He pulled me backward and shoved open a maintenance door.
Inside was a small control room—old consoles, exposed wires, humming transformers.
Sebastian kicked the door shut and slid a heavy metal bar across it.
Thud.
Another thud.
The copy hit the door with the force of a battering ram.
The metal buckled.
Sebastian spun toward the consoles. “We only need a minute.”
“For what?”
He ripped open the main access panel. “To sever the control node.”
“The one on his neck?”
He nodded. “Richard’s feeding commands to that body through the relay net. If we take down the node’s frequency—”
“We stop him.”
“Exactly.”
The door boomed again, harder. Dust fell from the ceiling.
Sebastian grabbed a cable and sparked it to life. “Eve, I need you to listen. When he comes through that door—”
“He’s coming through?”
The door buckled inward another two inches.
“He’s coming through,” Sebastian confirmed, calm but breathless. “When he does, I need you to get behind the main console. Stay low. Stay quiet.”
“Sebastian—”
He paused, looking at me. Really looking.
His eyes were steady, sharp, and for the first time since this nightmare began, full of something that felt dangerously close to…
Tenderness.
“Eve,” he said softly, “I’m not losing you.”
My breath caught.
Before I could respond, the door exploded inward.
Metal shrieked. Screws shot across the room. The lights flickered.
The copy stepped through the wreckage.
His head tilted slightly, like he was analysing us.
Then he moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
Sebastian shoved me behind the console and met the copy head-on. The impact sent both of them crashing into the equipment rack. Sparks rained down.
The copy pinned him with one hand, fingers closing around Sebastian’s throat.
Sebastian choked out, “Eve—do it—now!”
I crawled to the open panel, heart pounding, grabbed the exposed cable, and slammed it into the auxiliary port marked NODE SYNC.
The room screamed with electricity.
The copy jerked violently—eyes flashing white, then red, then flickering between both.
Static filled the speakers on every wall.
And Gabriel’s voice tore through it—
“EVE—STOP THE NODE—NOW!”
“I’m trying!” I screamed back.
The copy convulsed, tightening his grip on Sebastian. Sebastian’s face started to darken, his fingers clawing at the steel vice around his neck.
I lunged forward, grabbed a metal pole from the broken console, and swung it with everything I had.
It connected with the node.
A burst of light blew outward, knocking me off my feet.
The copy staggered.
His hand released Sebastian.
He swayed, sparks crackling along his spine.
REBOOT ERROR.
CONTROL OVERRIDE FAILED.
NEURAL MAP—DISRUPTED.
He looked at me.
For the briefest, shattered moment—
His eyes looked like Gabriel’s.
Soft.
Human.
Almost apologetic.
“Eve?” he said, voice glitching. “Eve—I’m—”
Then he collapsed.
The lights flickered out.
Silence.
My hands shook as I crawled toward Sebastian. He was on his knees, coughing, one hand pressed to his throat.
“Are you okay?” I whispered.
He grabbed my wrist and pulled me into a rough, shaky embrace — forehead against mine, breath unsteady.
“I told you,” he rasped, “I’m not losing you.”
I froze — because something inside me broke open at the sound of those words.
Not grief.
Not fear.
Something else.
Something I wasn’t ready to name.
And maybe he felt it too, because he pulled back slowly, eyes searching mine.
“We need to go,” he said. “Before Richard sends another one.”
I nodded.
But as we stepped around the fallen copy, I felt it — a chill down my spine.
Because the last thing the machine said…
The way it tried to say Gabriel’s name…
It didn’t sound like programming.
It sounded like someone trying to break through.
Someone who wasn’t gone.