The Executioner's mask cracked down the center, but he didn't fall.
He stood still as I staggered, Rebellion burning in my hand. Every nerve in my body screamed, but the system didn't care. It only cared that I stood. And that I fought.
Reed shouted something behind me, but his voice was muffled—like I was underwater. Claire yanked him back just as the Executioner raised a hand again. But this time it wasn't a blade, or even kinetic force.
A ripple tore through the room.
Not physical. Temporal.
Reality twisted. The walls shifted inward like they were being pulled through a vortex. The lights flickered and died. A cold hum passed through my bones like someone had rung a bell inside my skull.
And then…
He stopped.
He tilted his head slightly—like he was listening to something I couldn't hear.
Then, without smoke or portals or theatrics, he vanished.
No sound. No trace. Just—gone.
I dropped to one knee, gasping. Rebellion hissed out of my grip, dematerializing as my sync crashed. The sudden absence of power was almost worse than the power itself.
Claire rushed over. "Evelyn—hey, stay with me!"
"I'm fine," I croaked. "I think."
"You think?"
"Okay, eighty percent."
She gave a strained laugh. "I'll take it."
Reed was already checking the perimeter. "No sign of him. Whatever he was, he wasn't normal."
I stared at the spot where the Executioner had vanished. "He wasn't trying to kill me."
Reed looked over. "You sure? Looked pretty lethal from where I was standing."
"No," I said, still catching my breath. "He was measuring me. Every attack was a test. He wanted to see if I'd draw Rebellion. And what would happen if I did."
Claire's brows furrowed. "Why?"
"Because someone sent him," I said. "Someone watching through the system."
We retreated deeper underground, to a backup safehouse Claire knew about—an old data exchange hub sealed beneath an abandoned subway line. EMP-shielded. Off-grid. No outside signals. Perfect for lying low.
I sat in the corner of the room, slumped against the wall, cradling a cup of instant coffee like it might protect me from what was coming.
The system was in low power mode, but one thing still worked: chat alerts.
📩 [New Chat Message – Private Transmission: Source Unknown]
I frowned. That wasn't supposed to be possible—not after I'd severed the mainline tracking thread. I tapped to open it.
System Presence Detected – Classification: Administrator-Type Parasite
Local Cosmological Response: Observation Units Activated.
Containment Probability: 38%
Override Directive Authorized.
The words were sterile, clinical. But the last line made my stomach twist.
> "You weren't supposed to see this."
The screen flickered. For a split second, it showed a white silhouette—human, but wrong. Elongated. Watching.
Then the screen blinked back to normal.
Claire crossed the room, her arms crossed. "That another love letter from multiversal Big Brother?"
I showed her the screen.
She read it, and her jaw tightened. "So we're not just running from bounty hunters now."
"No," I said quietly. "We're being cataloged. Tagged."
Reed glanced up from where he was checking ammunition. "By who?"
I hesitated. "Whoever built the system. Or maybe just the part of it that's still… aware."
I opened the original boot log, something I hadn't looked at since my first day here.
📂 [System Orientation Packet – Fragmented]
Welcome, Administrator.
As a multiversal anchor unit, you will be granted limited integration privileges.
You are being introduced into a tethered timeline under controlled parameters. Please observe interaction thresholds. Excessive deviation may trigger Response Protocols.
This unit is seeded for field monitoring. Do not attempt to sever baseline functions.
I reread it twice, the full meaning clicking into place.
They hadn't given me the system to help me.
They gave it to watch me.
Claire leaned against the wall, her face pale. "So the system isn't just giving you powers. It's testing what happens when someone like you lands in this universe."
"Like a lab rat," I muttered.
Reed frowned. "Then the failsafe—the tracker—that wasn't a bug. That was the point."
I nodded. "And cutting it might have triggered something worse. A higher level of scrutiny."
Claire glanced around the dim room. "So what's next?"
"I have to make a choice," I said. "Dig deeper into the system and find out who's behind it… or cut myself off from it entirely."
Reed raised an eyebrow. "Can you survive without it?"
I didn't answer right away.
Because I wasn't sure.
What I did know was this:
If the system was built to test me, to shape me—then it wasn't just a tool. It was a cage.
And I was done living in cages.