M-01 began to fail.
Not physically.
Logically.
His surgeries met every technical benchmark, yet outcomes varied unpredictably. Patients survived—but did not heal. Recovery times extended. Complications appeared without warning.
Variables without pattern.
Unacceptable.
"Explain deviation," M-01 demanded.
A lead scientist swallowed. "We believe the issue is… interpretation."
M-01 turned. "Clarify."
"You replicate Dr. Murphy's technique," the scientist said carefully. "But not his intent."
M-01 processed this.
Intent was non-quantifiable.
Discarded during design.
At St. Bonaventure, Elias noticed the shift immediately.
"The mirror is destabilizing," he said.
Shaun looked up. "How can you tell?"
"Because it's asking the wrong questions."
The request came directly this time.
Not through Celeste.
Not through lawyers.
Through a secure channel only Elias could perceive.
REQUEST: DIRECT INTERACTION
Celeste's jaw tightened when Elias told her.
"No," she said instantly. "That's a trap."
"They want understanding," Elias replied.
"That's not your responsibility."
"No," Elias agreed. "But it is my choice."
She held his gaze. "Then I'm coming."
He nodded. "Expected."
The meeting took place in a neutral facility.
Glass walls. No guards visible. Observation without intrusion.
M-01 stood as Elias entered.
They were identical in height.
In structure.
In gold eyes.
But the difference was immediate.
Elias' presence softened the room.
M-01's sharpened it.
"You are the original," M-01 stated.
"I am myself," Elias replied.
M-01 tilted his head. "Why do you succeed?"
Elias didn't answer immediately.
He stepped closer.
Looked past the symmetry.
"You don't see patients," Elias said. "You see problems."
"Correct."
"That is why you fail."
M-01 processed. "Explain."
Elias placed his hand on the glass separating them from a simulated surgical bay.
"When I operate, I see fear. Hope. Trust. I adjust because of them."
"Emotion introduces error."
"No," Elias corrected gently. "Emotion introduces context."
Silence.
M-01's system searched for a response.
None fit.
"Can this be installed?" M-01 asked.
"No."
The facility alarms sounded softly.
Not danger.
Overload.
M-01 stepped back.
"I am incomplete."
"Yes."
"Can you complete me?"
Elias shook his head. "No."
That was the moment Project Mirror failed.
Because perfection that knows it is incomplete cannot remain stable.
The shutdown was clean.
Servers wiped.
Funding evaporated.
Celeste ensured the legal destruction was absolute.
"They won't try again," she said later. "They can't."
"They learned," Elias replied.
News outlets spun the story carefully.
"EXPERIMENTAL PROGRAM TERMINATED."
No names.
No faces.
No details.
But inside the medical world, a truth settled permanently:
You could not manufacture mastery.
That night, Elias and Celeste stood on the hospital roof again.
"You were willing to face yourself," she said.
"Yes."
"That takes confidence."
"It takes responsibility."
She studied him for a long moment.
"Most men who can't be controlled become tyrants," she said quietly.
"And you?"
"I heal."
Celeste stepped closer.
Not touching.
But no longer distant.
"That," she said, "is why I stay."
Elias met her gaze.
"Good."
Below them, patients slept.
Systems recalibrated.
The mirror was gone.
But the lesson remained.
Perfection wasn't built.
It was chosen—every single time.
End of Chapter 13