The Reconstruction Unit was close.
Very close.
Helia pulled Nero into a side passage, steps light despite the urgency. Nero followed, but his mind kept drifting back to the cracked stasis pod and the faint, childlike echo he had heard.
Stay alive.
Someone had whispered that to him once.
Someone who might have been erased from existence.
He tore his thoughts away as they entered a narrower room—once a lab, judging by the dangling wires and ancient screens. The air was colder here, carrying the scent of rust and old power cores.
Nero suddenly asked" we keep moving from one area to another with no permanent escape, only painful truths."
"Archive is full of secrets escaping it going be a tough one."
While answering Nero's question, Helia scanned the walls with her baton. "We'll break through the maintenance ducts on the north side. If we're lucky, the Unit hasn't mapped the old schematics."
Nero didn't answer.
He couldn't.
His gaze had locked on a terminal at the far end of the room—a small, dust-covered monitor that flickered faintly with residual power.
"Nero?" Helia called softly.
He didn't respond.He walked toward the terminal.
Something tugged him toward it—a quiet pull, like a magnet buried deep in his chest.
Helia stepped up beside him. "Don't—these terminals connect to the old prototype network. They could trigger—"
The screen lit up before she could finish.
Teal lines spread across the display, forming a familiar silhouette:a child, small and trembling.
A name flashed beneath it:
PROTOTYPE 11 — STATUS: FAILEDACCESS: RESTRICTEDPLAYBACK AVAILABLE
Nero felt his breath disappear.
Prototype Eleven.
The one right before him.
Helia touched his arm gently. "Nero… you don't have to watch this."
"Yes," he whispered. "I do."
His fingers hovered over the screen.
Once he pressed PLAY, he couldn't take it back.
Helia swallowed. "It could break you."
"So could not knowing," Nero said quietly.His voice was steadier than he felt.
He pressed the screen.
Static flared, then resolved into a dimly lit room—similar to the chamber he had seen earlier, though smaller. A pod sat at the center, identical to his own.
Through the cracked glass, a faint figure curled inside.
A child around his age—maybe younger.
Dark hair.Thin arms wrapped around small knees.
Prototype Eleven.
Nero's stomach twisted painfully as the child's recorded voice filled the room.
"It hurts… I don't want to… please don't…"
Helia's eyes softened with grief she couldn't hide.
The recording flickered again.
Another voice—mechanical, detached.
"Synchronization instability at 84%.""Cognitive collapse imminent."
The child sobbed, small hands pushing weakly at the pod's walls.
"Please… someone… I don't want to disappear…"
Nero's eyes burned—not tears, but a pressure behind them, an ache that pulsed with every word the child cried.
Helia whispered, "Nero, stop it. You don't have to see this."
But he didn't move.
He couldn't.
The recording continued—Prototype Eleven's voice turning fragile, breaking apart.
"Please don't make me… I don't want to—"
The screen cut abruptly into static.
Then the final line appeared:
ERASURE COMPLETED.
Nero's knees buckled.
Helia caught him before he fell, pulling him against her chest. He clutched her jacket with trembling fingers, breathing unevenly.
"He was a child," Nero whispered."A child, Helia. He was scared. And they…"His voice cracked.
Helia wrapped both arms around him. "I'm sorry."
Nero pressed his forehead into her shoulder, voice strained. "Why did they keep trying? Why did they let him suffer?"
"Because the Architect wanted a perfect core," Helia said softly. "A stable subject. And he didn't see them as children. He saw them as attempts."
"And I was the first one he didn't lose," Nero whispered.
Helia's hold tightened. "You are not his."
Nero's chest heaved. "But I was built for him."
"No," Helia said fiercely."Nero, you survived because of yourself. Not because of him."
He finally pulled back—his eyes red around the edges but burning with something new.
Not fear.
Anger.
A quiet, simmering fury.
"What happened to Prototype Eleven," Nero said, voice low, "will not happen to me."
Helia nodded. "It won't."
"And I won't let it happen to anyone else," he added.
Before Helia could respond, the room shook violently—dust raining down from the ceiling.
A massive limb smashed through the far wall, metal shrieking as a clawed appendage tore through concrete.
The Reconstruction Unit.
Helia's face drained. "We have to move. Now."
Nero tore his eyes from the terminal and ran beside her as the Unit ripped open the rest of the wall. Its optical sensor glowed a cold, merciless blue.
"PROTOTYPE 12 DETECTED.""RETRIEVAL PRIORITY: CRITICAL."
Helia shoved Nero through the side door. "Go!"
They sprinted through the connecting passage, their footsteps echoing sharply. The walls shook as the Unit smashed through obstacles without slowing.
"Nero!" Helia shouted over the chaos. "Don't use Veyra yet—it'll pinpoint your exact location!"
"I know," Nero replied, breath ragged.
But the Unit was gaining on them.
It didn't run.It advanced like a collapsing building—unstoppable, unhurried, destroying everything in its path.
They turned into a service tunnel lined with old power conduits. Helia skidded to a stop at a dead end.
Nero's heart leapt to his throat. "No—"
Helia scanned the wall quickly, slamming her baton against different panels. "There's a hidden exit here—give me a second—"
The Unit's footsteps thundered closer.
BOOM— BOOM— BOOM—
Metal groaned.
Screws rattled on the walls.
Each step felt like a countdown.
Nero's hands shook. "Helia—!"
"Almost—there—!"
A small maintenance hatch slid open.
Helia pushed Nero through first. "Go! Don't look back!"
He scrambled into the narrow shaft. "Helia, hurry!"
She crawled in behind him—just as the Reconstruction Unit reached the tunnel.
Its massive claw slammed into the wall next to the hatch, tearing through pipes and cables.
Helia screamed, covering her head as sparks exploded around them.
Nero grabbed her arm, dragging her fully inside.The hatch sealed just as another claw smashed where Helia had been.
They slid down the metal shaft, tumbling into a lower chamber, coughing from dust and smoke.
Helia grabbed Nero's face, checking him in a panic. "Nero—are you hurt?!"
He shook his head weakly. "Are you?"
"I'm fine," she said, voice trembling with adrenaline.Then she pulled him close, forehead touching his."We're not stopping. Not now."
Nero nodded against her.
Behind them, the Reconstruction Unit roared—a mechanical howl that shook the floor. Firing lasers creating large disruption sounds.
They ran.
Not from fear.Not from confusion.
But from determination:
Nero refused to be Prototype Eleven.
He refused to be anyone's creation.
Especially the Architect.