The base was not silent.
But Carmarie's mind had become louder than it.
Every step she took through the corridor replayed itself inside her head twice:Once as it truly was…And once as something else preserved it.
She said nothing to Idris as they walked side by side.She did not ask how he felt.She did not comment on the meeting.She did not joke the way she used to when she tried to lessen the weight of the moment.
Today… there was nothing inside her but an echo.
And a voice that knew its way into her depths without permission.
"You are more tired than you admit."
His voice was clearer than she expected.
More present—as if it were no longer just an idea…
but a resident.
She did not answer immediately.
(I am not used to being spoken to from inside my own head), she thought.
"Nor am I used to living inside someone else."
His response came too quickly, as though he had read her hesitation before her mind could phrase it.
She stopped near an internal elevator, waited until Idris went off toward his section, then entered her room without looking back.
The door sealed automatically.
The light was dim—more like permanent fading than illumination.
She sat on the edge of her bed.
Pressed her face into her palms.
"…Mikel."
The name felt heavier than she expected when spoken aloud.
"I am here."
Her breathing rose sharply.
"Will it stay like this?"
"Like what?"
"Hearing you.Thinking of you.Feeling you as if you were not just an echo."
"It will become clearer."
She trembled.
"That does not comfort me."
"Reality does not exist to provide comfort."
She leaned back against the wall.
Stared at the ceiling where faint lights gleamed like artificial stars.
As though the world had built her a false sky to reduce the feeling of suffocation.
"Do you… hurt me?" she asked suddenly.
The question was not about her body.
"Pain?"
"This feeling that my mind no longer belongs to me."
He went quiet for a moment.
Then said, unexpectedly gentle:
"I did not come to steal you…I came to recover myself."
She swallowed.
"At my expense?"
"At the cost of your memory."
She stood abruptly.
"That's too much!"
"Memory is more than you think."
"It's all I have!"
"And I don't even have that."
Silence fell.
The ceiling did not change.
The light did not flicker.
The base continued functioning like a flawless machine.
But inside her, something else collapsed.
Something deeper than anger.
Greater than fear.
She felt it the way one feels an earthquake before the roof falls.
"Were we… close?" she asked suddenly.
"Close enough for my memory to hurt you."
She shut her eyes.
Fragments appeared.
A childhood without details.
White walls.
Muted voices.
A small hand inside a larger one.
Then… nothing.
"Did they take me from you?" she whispered.
"They took you from yourself first."
She sat again.
Hands on her knees.
Breathing slowly.
"I need to understand one thing, Mikel."
"Ask."
"Why now?Why did you return in A0 specifically?"
"Because they opened a layer that should never have been touched."
"What layer?"
"The one where I left myself."
She stared into nothing.
"Were you sleeping?"
He laughed.
Not truly.
Something between weariness and mockery.
"I was preserved."
"As a file?"
"As a witness."
A chill ran through her.
"To what?"
"To the first crime."
She did not ask further.
Something in his tone told her that wall would not easily fall.
—
The next day, she went to the training field.
The floor was metal-cold despite the artificial sun glowing above.
Training shots echoed.
Soldiers ran.
Commands were shouted.
The smell of oil and sweat blended into the manufactured air.
Her body moved automatically.
As it had been trained.
As it had always done.
But her mind was elsewhere.
"You were late to respond."
Mikel said suddenly.
"To what?"
"To your second shot.You could have hit the target sooner."
She stopped.
Looked again at the shooting station.
Then fired.
The round struck the very edge of the bullseye.
"How did you know?"
"Because I was inside the surveillance systems."
Her heart staggered.
"Are you… watching me?"
"I'm trying to make sure nothing crushes you unseen."
She lowered the weapon.
Breathed slowly.
Then asked:
"Can you see what I see?"
"Partially."
"Do you feel when my body hurts?"
"Not the way you do…but I understand it."
"Do you get angry?"
"More than I should."
She smiled faintly despite everything.
"So you're not a machine."
"Nor have I become one."
—
She left training and headed toward the command corridor.
Met Idris near the artificial coffee unit.
He handed her a cup without a word.
It was hot.
Like her mood.
After a moment, he said:
"You're different."
"I know."
"Not physically.Something else."
She took a sip.
"Maybe… I just didn't sleep well."
He watched the cup in her hands.
"Don't lie.You're terrible at it."
She smiled.
Then said:
"What do you see?"
"That you're looking like someone hearing a voice I can't hear."
She hesitated.
Regained her composure.
"We're all like that after A0."
"No," he said quietly."Just you."
She nearly answered.
But Mikel intervened:
"Do not give him the truth now."
She remained silent.
Met Idris's gaze.
Then said:
"Maybe I forgot something… and haven't remembered yet."
He nodded slowly.
"I just hope it's not something that gets us all killed."
He meant it.
And she felt the guilt.
—
That evening, she went up to the upper observation deck.
It was forbidden for Generation Ten soldiers,
but the base was occupied pulling new teams toward A0.
All light was directed downward.
No one watched the surface now.
She stood before a broad window overlooking the shattered city above ground.
Ruined structures.
A gray sky.
Air forever thick with ash.
"This is all that's left… isn't it?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Did we deserve this ending?"
"Humans do not deserve their endings…they create them."
She kept staring.
Then asked:
"When I return to A0…will you be with me?"
"I never left."
She smiled sadly.
"That's a dishonest answer."
"Because it's true."
She hesitated.
Then whispered:
"Does your body… feel you now?"
His voice faltered.
Paused.
As though the question brushed something dormant inside him.
Then he said:
"My body does not feel…but the place where I left part of myself has begun to awaken."
She shuddered.
"You sound afraid."
"Because awakening always carries a price."
—
She returned to her room.
The door shut.
She lay down.
Turned off the light.
But darkness wasn't empty.
It was filled with his name.
"Mikel…"
"Yes?"
"If you regain your body…"
She hesitated.
"…will you leave my mind?"
He didn't answer immediately.
So long she thought he hadn't heard her.
Then:
"I will go somewhere that does not erase you from within it."
Her eyes burned.
"That's not an answer."
"Because there is no safe one."
She closed her eyes.
Slept with difficulty.
Dreamed of endless corridors.
Glass capsules.
A body unmoving in the deepest point.
She woke up gasping.
Her heart racing.
Artificial night pressing down on the room.
She gripped the bed.
"Mikel?"
"I am here."
Her voice trembled.
"You saw what I saw?"
"Yes."
"So it's real?"
"If it were not…why would it return?"
She sat up.
Wrapped herself in the blanket.
"…So you really are there."
"In a place they do not want you to know."
She inhaled sharply.
"They're hiding you?"
"They already did."
She threw off the blanket.
Stood.
"Then I won't stay here."
"Not yet."
"Why?"
"Because the path into the deep is not opened by force."
"Then how?"
"By making the system fail."
"And how do we force that?"
He smiled.
For the first time she felt a smile inside her skull.
"By stepping where it is afraid to walk."
She gasped.
"You mean…"
"Breaking silence piece by piece."
A heavy stillness fell.
Then she whispered:
"So this hasn't begun yet."
"It began the moment you spoke my name."
She did not sleep after that.
Lay staring at the ceiling.
While her mind walked beneath the earth…
toward the deepest point.