Chapter 36: The Archivist
The control room was silent.
The monitors flickered.
Cassian and Elián stood frozen as the porcelain-masked figure turned in the chair.
White gloves.
Black suit.
No voice at first — just the sound of breathing.
Then:
"You've been watching yourselves for years. I just gave you better angles."
Cassian stepped forward. "Who are you?"
The figure tilted its head.
"I'm the archivist. I collect performances. Yours were… exceptional."
Elián's voice was sharp. "You filmed Ava."
The archivist nodded.
"She was my first."
Cassian lunged.
Elián held him back.
"Not yet," he whispered.
Cassian's eyes burned. "She died because of you."
The archivist stood.
"She died because of you. I just kept the footage."
He walked to the wall of monitors.
Pressed a button.
One screen lit up.
Ava.
Backstage.
Crying.
"Cassian, please. I don't want to do this anymore."
Cassian's voice — offscreen — replied:
"Just one more take."
Cassian collapsed.
Elián knelt beside him.
"You didn't kill her," he said. "You just didn't know how to stop."
The archivist turned.
"And now you'll finish what she started."
He handed Elián a script.
Black cover.
No title.
Inside: scenes.
Dialogues.
Stage directions.
All of them starring Elián.
All of them ending in silence.
Cassian looked up.
"What is this?"
The archivist smiled.
"The final act."
Elián stood.
Took the script.
Tore it in half.
"I write my own ending."
The archivist didn't flinch.
"Then make it worth watching."