Bursts of plasma tore through the corridor. Air snapped in two. The world shattered.
Mayu rolled across the floor, narrowly evading a plasma shot that melted the wall behind her. Drones swarmed in packs, unleashing volleys of bullets, lasers, and sonic needles.
Yet despite the chaos, her gaze remained fixed on him: Akira.
He moved with almost inhuman grace. Every motion combined animal instinct and absolute control. He leapt, struck, vanished, only to reappear behind a drone and tear it open at its central interface with a single, savage blow.
She should have kept her attention on the threat—but she couldn't.
> "It's him. He's alive. He's here."
A blade whistled past her throat. Seth shoved her violently against a wall.
> "Focus, damn it! Do you want to die right now?"
Mayu drew a deep, searing breath, steadying herself. Then she rose.
Her eyes flared with blue light. Her hands trembled—not with fear, but with awakening.
She extended her fingers. The sonic needles fired at her froze mid-air. She made them burst with a mere mental command.
Then she charged.
Seth, Lia, and Akira fought around her, but she only heard her own heart pounding.
Every impact, every shot, every scream echoed faintly beneath a flood of fractured memories returning to haunt her:
Children in a cage. She and him. The cold. The silence. And Akira's hand sliding into hers.
"We are two. They can't break us."
She kicked a drone, pivoted, and hurled its metal body against a wall. It erupted in a rain of sparks.
Behind her, Akira closed the distance. Shoulder to shoulder.
For a moment, time froze.
Their breaths ragged. Their eyes locked.
He whispered, voice rough and tender:
> "You haven't changed."
Mayu ground her teeth.
> "And you… you've learned to kill."
He looked away, shadows crossing his gaze. No apology, no explanation—there had been no room for gentleness in their past.
The battle raged on.
The walls vibrated; the entire facility seemed on the verge of collapse. A final defense line—massive machines with razored claws—blocked their path to the exit. Eight in all, clad in black plating and red-glass visors.
Seth swore.
> "We're out of ammunition. We need a plan."
Mayu sprang forward without waiting.
She slid beneath one mechanical beast, vaulted onto its back, and ripped out its power core with superhuman strength. The robot convulsed, then went lifeless.
Akira couldn't help but smile.
> "You've become a weapon."
Mayu growled, muscles coiled:
> "Maybe. But at least I choose my targets."
A bitter laugh escaped her.
After minutes of fierce coordination—each movement perfectly in sync, guided by shared intuition—they dispatched the last defenders.
Seth, drenched in sweat, slumped against a wall. Lia clutched her wounded shoulder, but she remained standing. Mayu panted too quickly, her chest heaving.
When her eyes found Akira's again, she realized something inside her had cracked open.
> "Why did you stay here?" she asked, softer now, free of anger.
He looked around at the bloodied walls, the shattered cables, the dark remnants of their childhood prison.
Then he said:
> "Because this was the only place I remembered you."
Her heart twisted.
> "They told me you were dead."
He let his weapon drop.
> "They showed me your body. Burned. Still. I believed them. I stopped fighting."
A frozen silence followed.
Then he continued:
> "So I served. I destroyed. I became their monster."
His eyes glimmered for a moment.
> "But your laughter remained. Your eyes. Your name. That was my resistance."
Mayu stepped forward—slowly, deliberately—and laid a hand on his chest.
> "I'm real. Now. Here. You don't have to stay anymore."
Akira placed his hand over hers.
For one fragile moment, the world stilled.
Then the speakers crackled to life.
A cold, distorted voice boomed:
> "Subject 17. Subject 11. You have crossed tolerance thresholds. You are now classified unstable. The program thanks you for your service. Final purge sequence is commencing."
The walls trembled. Red warning lights flickered to life.
Seth, exhausted, groaned:
> "Great. They've reactivated self-destruct. I've always wanted to die in an underground base."
Lia glanced at Mayu.
> "Do we run? Or do you want to chat with your ghost?"
Mayu looked at Akira. Then nodded.
> "We get out. Together."
Akira hesitated—then fell in step behind her.
Their flight through the collapsing corridors was frantic. Explosions thundered nearer. Chunks of ceiling rained down. The floor cracked underfoot. The complex was imploding.
Mayu ran, but her thoughts flew elsewhere: to the child she once was, to the hand she had lost—and was holding again.
Akira.
Their past could no longer be denied—or erased. Yet one truth remained to be confronted, one enemy to overthrow—and a bond, long broken, to rebuild.