Interlude: "What Remains of a Man"
Location: Sector 12 – Nova Haven Biotech Archives, Night Cycle: 03:14 AM
The city never truly slept, only dimmed its synthetic glow. From the upper floors of Nova Haven's derelict Biotech Tower, the lights of Parallax District flickered like dying stars behind layers of smogglass. Drones buzzed distantly, and neon veins pulsed through the skyline, painting veins of pink and electric blue across the steel veins of a world losing its humanity.
Dr. Elias Rhane stood in silence, one hand resting against the cold panel of an old reinforced window, the other cradling a chipped porcelain mug. Steam spiraled from the untouched tea inside. On the table behind him, a flickering holoprojector replayed Shane Warne's vitals from the moment of the experiment's failure.
Again.
And again.
And again.
His eyes lingered on the red spike, the precise second the energy core ruptured and Shane's body was torn apart. Heart flatline. Neuro-collapse. Muscle disintegration. The end of the boy he'd raised like a second son.
And yet… he didn't die.
He should have.
Elias closed his eyes, the weight pressing against his chest heavier than ever. "You should've stayed gone, Shane. For your sake."
The room was dim but alive with humming machinery, each piece scavenged, repurposed. Shelves lined with datacores, surgical tools, and memory drives. This wasn't a lab. It was a shrine to guilt. And in the center of it all, a holo-frame flickered on his desk: a younger Shane, laughing beside a woman with fire-red hair and deep hazel eyes, Liora.
The photo was from a decade ago. Before war, before Parallax Tech. Before the world had rewritten the laws of survival.
A soft knock echoed from the entry door, a gentle alert tone. Elias didn't answer. The door remained locked. The world outside could wait.
He sank into the creaking chair beside the terminal. With a sigh, he activated the voice log system, and the recorder blinked to life.
Personal Log: Dr. Elias Rhane - Entry 127
"I'm not doing this for the record. I'm doing this because… if I don't speak to someone, even a ghost… I might forget what makes me human."
"Shane's alive. That's what the metrics say. He's breathing. His heartbeat stabilizes. But when I look at him, when I see the chrome under the skin, the artificial nerves threading through his spine, I wonder…"
"Did I save him? Or did I damn him?"
He paused, letting the silence speak.
"The world's gone mad with evolution. Artificial perfection. Parallax now owns over 67% of biomechanical patents in the Walled Districts. They preach integration. But they mean control. They see people like Shane as… templates. Blueprints for the next generation."
"But I didn't make him for them. I didn't make him for anyone."
"I did it because… I couldn't lose him."
His voice cracked. Elias swallowed hard.
"I lost Liora. I lost her. That was the first fracture. And Shane… he reminded me of what it felt like to hope. So I rebuilt him. I crossed the line. And now…"
He looked toward the distant corridor, where Shane slept, or pretended to.
"Now he barely speaks. He stares out into the dark like it owes him something. And maybe it does."
Elias reached for the tea. Cold. Just like everything else.
"He doesn't know about the neural locks. The subconscious inhibitors I had to embed to prevent his mind from shattering. He's not stable, not really. But I made a promise to keep him alive."
"He'll hate me if he ever finds out."
"But I'd rather be hated by a living soul… than mourn another ghost."
He ended the log. Silence reclaimed the room.
Outside, the city pulsed with life and lies. Inside, a man sat surrounded by machines he once believed would save the world. Now, they were only reminders of all he couldn't fix.
And in the shadows beyond the door, a soft metallic footstep echoed, followed by the faintest hum of shifting panels.
Shane had been listening.
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