The Reflection Chamber was Eclipse Academy's idea of psychological warfare disguised as therapy. Four walls of seamless mirrors, soft lighting that somehow made you look both angelic and guilty, and a sound system that played ambient music at a frequency scientifically proven to make people confess their deepest secrets.
Alex hated it.
"Sit," Lila said, pointing to one of two chairs in the center. She closed the door behind them with a soft click that felt impossibly loud.
Alex sat. In the mirrors, a thousand versions of himself sat too—all looking equally nervous, all trapped in an infinite reflection of poor life choices.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: High-stress environment detected. Recommend Downloaded Skill: Advanced Lying Level 3. Warning: Using deception on teammate may result in relationship damage. Proceed? Y/N]
He mentally slapped "N" so hard his vision flickered.
Lila remained standing, arms crossed, her reflection multiplying into an army of disappointed snipers. "Do you know why we're here?"
"Because Mia accused me of tampering with her bot?" Alex tried for casual and landed somewhere near 'guilty ferret.'
"Because you've been lying to me." Lila's voice was quiet, controlled—which was somehow worse than if she'd yelled. "To all of us. For weeks."
Alex's stomach dropped. "Lila, I—"
"The Seoul mission. You suddenly knew advanced hand-to-hand combat. The simulator heist—you hacked a system that should've taken hours in under three minutes. Last week's training exercise, you spoke fluent Russian despite failing basic language classes." She ticked them off on her fingers, each point landing like a sniper shot. "And yesterday, Mia's surveillance bot malfunctioned during your practice session. When she checked the logs, someone had accessed its command codes using techniques that don't exist in any academy database."
In the mirrors, all the Alexes looked caught.
[SYSTEM ALERT: Cover story compromised. Calculating optimal response... Error: No good options available. Recommendation: Tell the truth, you coward.]
"How long have you known?" Alex asked quietly.
"I started suspecting after Seoul. I've been certain for a week." Lila finally sat, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. Her dark eyes held his—not angry, but hurt.
"Alex, I don't care if you've been secretly training or found some advanced learning method. What I care about is that you didn't trust me enough to tell me."
The hurt in her voice cracked something in his chest.
"It's not about trust," Alex said desperately. "Lila, you're the person I trust most. It's just—" He gestured helplessly at the infinite reflections. "If I tell you, it changes everything. And I don't know how."
"Try me."
Alex looked at the mirrors—at all the versions of himself, all the futures branching from this moment. In some reflections, he stayed silent and lost her. In others, he spoke and lost her anyway. But in a few, a very few, honesty opened a door instead of closing it.
His phone buzzed. A text from Mia: "Everything ok? You've been gone 20 mins. Jax is making up conspiracy theories.
Currently at 'Alex is secretly a robot.'"
Despite everything, Alex almost smiled. Then he looked at Lila's expectant face and the smile died.
[SYSTEM PROMPT: Quest Available! "Leap of Faith" - Reveal your secret to Lila Sato. Reward: +50 Trust Points, Relationship upgrade possible. Risk: Rejection, squad dissolution, potential academy expulsion. Accept? Y/N]
"I have a neural implant," Alex blurted out before he could overthink it. "A mad scientist installed it in my brain, and now I can download skills from the internet directly into my head. That's how I learned combat and hacking and languages. There's also a system—like a video game interface—that only I can see. It gives me quests and rewards and won't shut up with commentary."
Silence. The ambient music seemed to swell, mocking.
Lila blinked slowly. "A... neural implant."
"From Dr. Zorba. The academy scientist everyone calls crazy. I kind of broke into his lab, and there was an accident, and now I have superpowers but also a really annoying AI living in my brain." The words tumbled out faster. "It downloads information from databases and websites. I can learn skills instantly, but I don't always control what it learns or when. And sometimes it gives me really weird quests like 'impress the girl' or 'betray your friend for bonus points' and I don't do those, obviously, but—"
"Breathe," Lila interrupted, and there was the ghost of a smile on her lips.
Alex breathed. The mirrors showed a thousand panicking teenagers gulping air.
"So when Mia's bot glitched," Lila said slowly, working through it like a tactical problem, "your implant accessed it?"
"I was trying to figure out why it kept following me! The system just... did it.
Without asking. I've been trying to control it, but sometimes it acts on its own, and I know that sounds insane—"
"It sounds dangerous." Lila stood, pacing between the mirrors. Her reflections moved in synchronized concern. "Alex, do you realize what this means? You have unregulated neural technology. If the academy finds out—"
"They'll dissect me. Or expel me. Or both." Alex slumped in his chair. "That's why I didn't say anything. My parents don't even know the full extent. Nobody does. Except now you."
"And Zorba."
"He's the one who made it. He said the academy shut down his neural research years ago, called him crazy. But the implant works, Lila. Really works. I went from barely passing combat to keeping up with you. I can help the squad. I can actually be useful instead of the talentless Thorne who everyone expects to fail."
The words hung in the mirrored air, more honest than he'd intended.
Lila stopped pacing and turned to face him fully. In the mirror behind her, Alex could see both their expressions—his desperate and vulnerable, hers cycling through a dozen emotions he couldn't quite read.
"Is that what you think?" she finally asked, voice softer. "That you're only useful because of the implant?"
"I'm only competent because of it."
"That's complete bullshit." Her bluntness made him look up. "Alex, you coordinated our entire Seoul extraction. The implant gave you skills, fine, but you made the tactical decisions. You kept the team together when Jax wanted to charge in and Mia's tech failed. That's not downloadable. That's you."
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: +15 Emotional Support received. Morale increased. Warning: Experiencing significant feelings. Heart rate elevated. Do not cry in front of crush. Historical crying success rate in romantic contexts: 12%.]
"Your brain computer just told you not to cry, didn't it?" Lila asked, and there was warmth in her voice now, a tiny smile cracking through the serious facade.
"How did you—"
"You get this blank look when it's talking to you. Like you're reading something invisible." She sat back down, closer this time. Close enough that Alex could smell her shampoo—something like mint and gunpowder, which was very Lila. "Show me. How does it work?"
Alex hesitated, then focused on his interface. "Okay, um, right now it's displaying your vital signs—which feels invasive, sorry—and a tactical assessment of the room. Two exits, seventeen reflective surfaces that could be used for surveillance, optimal escape routes highlighted in blue. It's also suggesting I use 'Advanced Apology Techniques Level 2' to de-escalate the situation."
"Tell it you're doing fine without its help."
"I did. It said my historical success rate for apologies is 34% and that I need all the help I can get."
Lila actually laughed—a short, surprised sound that made all the mirror-Lilas smile. The tension in the room broke like a snapped wire. "Your implant is kind of a jerk."
"It really is." Alex felt something unknot in his chest. "Look, I know this is weird and probably concerning and definitely against academy protocols—"
"Definitely."
"—but I promise I'm not trying to hurt anyone. I just want to be good enough. To not be the weak link." He met her eyes, seeing a thousand reflected versions of this moment, all of them pivotal. "And I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. You deserved to know. You deserve honesty."
Lila was quiet for a long moment. In the mirrors, infinite versions of her considered infinite versions of him. Finally, she reached out and poked him in the forehead—firm but not hard.
"Ow?"
"Just checking if you're real." But she was smiling now, genuine and a little sad. "Okay. Here's what's going to happen. One, you're going to tell Mia and Jax. If we're a squad, we handle this together. No more secrets within the team."
"Lila—"
"Two," she continued over his protest, "you're going to let me help you figure out the implant's limits. What it can and can't do, what's safe, what's risky. We approach this tactically and smart, not just stumbling through hoping nothing breaks."
"And three?" Alex asked, almost afraid of the answer.
"Three, you stop thinking you're only valuable because of some tech in your skull." Her expression was fierce now, protective. "You were my friend before the implant, Alex Thorne. You made me laugh during survival training when I thought I was going to fail. You noticed when I was having a bad day and brought me terrible cafeteria coffee without asking why. You're the person who remembers everyone's birthday and pretends you forgot so they don't feel bad about not remembering yours. That person is valuable. The implant just makes you more dangerous. There's a difference."
The relief was so overwhelming Alex's implant probably registered it as a medical event.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Quest "Leap of Faith" completed! Reward: +50 Trust Points, Relationship status updated: "Trusted Teammate/Possible Romantic Interest." Achievement unlocked: "Honest Communication (Rare)." Analysis: She really cares about you. Like, a lot. Maybe do something about that eventually? Just a suggestion from your friendly neighborhood brain AI.]
"It just updated your status to 'possible romantic interest,'" Alex said before his brain caught up to his mouth. "And suggested I do something about it."
Lila's eyebrows rose, and a flush crept up her cheeks. "Did it now."
"I didn't—I mean, it just—that's not why I told you—" Alex wanted the mirrors to swallow him.
"Relax, Thorne." But her voice was softer, and the pink in her cheeks hadn't faded.
"Let's deal with the illegal neural implant before we worry about whatever your brain computer ships."
"Ships?"
"Mia's been teaching me internet slang. Apparently, I need to be 'more relatable to the youth.'"
"Please never say that again."
"Noted." Lila stood, offering her hand to pull him up. Her grip was firm, callused from rifle practice, and warm. She didn't let go immediately. "We're okay, Alex. Better than okay. But no more secrets. Deal?"
"Deal."
The door burst open with a BANG that made both of them jump apart. Jax filled the doorway, grinning like he'd won the lottery, with Mia peering around his considerable bulk.
"THERE you guys are!" Jax announced.
"We've been looking everywhere! Mia said you were having a 'serious talk' but it's been like an hour and—" He paused, looking between them with suddenly shrewd eyes. "Wait. Why do you both look like you've been having a Deep Conversation? Did someone die? Are you dating? Did someone die WHILE dating?"
"Nobody died," Lila said quickly.
"Not dating," Alex added, then caught Mia's expression—a flicker of something complicated before her usual smile snapped into place. Had she been hoping for a different answer?
"I told her about the implant," Alex said, deciding to just rip off all the bandages at once.
Jax's eyes went wide. "The brain thing?
DUDE! Does this mean we can talk about it now? Because I have SO many questions! Can you download muscles? Have you tried learning to cook? Can it teach you my legendary pun skills?"
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: New squad member added to shared secret. Trust network expanding. Warning: Jax Rodriguez's question about "legendary pun skills" cannot be answered without causing system damage. Also, Mia Chen appears to be experiencing complex emotions. Recommend: Address this later in private.]
"Your implant just insulted my puns, didn't it?" Jax accused.
"It said answering would cause system damage."
"RUDE!"
Mia stepped forward, tablet clutched to her chest. Her neon-pink hair was slightly mussed, like she'd been running her hands through it. "So. Neural implant. Mad scientist. Brain AI that gives you quests."
She was using her 'processing information' voice—clinical, detached. "And it can access my tech without permission."
"I'm really sorry about that," Alex said quickly. "I've been trying to set boundaries with the system, but—"
"But it's like having a really smart, really rude roommate in your skull who doesn't respect privacy?" Mia's smile was strained. "Yeah, I can imagine." She paused, then seemed to forcibly brighten. "Okay, well, this is happening. We should probably have an actual squad meeting. Somewhere not covered in mirrors because this is getting disorienting."
"My room?" Jax suggested. "I have snacks. And no mirrors because I broke mine trying to practice 'cool poses' and haven't replaced it yet."
"That's the saddest thing I've ever heard," Lila said.
"The poses were VERY cool."
As they filed out of the Reflection Chamber, Mia fell into step beside Alex. Lila and Jax walked ahead, already bickering about something.
"Hey," Mia said quietly. "I'm glad you told us. I know that was scary."
"Yeah. It was." Alex glanced at her. "You okay? You seem... I don't know. Off?"
"I'm fine!" Too bright, too fast. "Just processing. My best friend has a brain computer. That's a lot." She bumped his shoulder with hers. "But we're good. Always."
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Mia Chen is exhibiting signs of emotional distress masked by forced cheerfulness. Possible causes: (1) Concern for your wellbeing, (2) Feeling excluded from earlier revelation, (3) Complex feelings regarding your relationship with Lila Sato. Recommend: Monitor situation. Human emotions are complicated.]
"Always," Alex agreed, but something felt slightly wrong, like a guitar string tuned just sharp enough to be noticeable.
They caught up to Lila and Jax, who were now debating whether Alex's implant made him technically a cyborg.
"If he downloads kung fu, he's Neo from The Matrix," Jax argued.
"The Matrix is about VR, not brain implants," Lila countered.
"It's BASICALLY the same thing!"
Alex let their banter wash over him, feeling lighter than he had in weeks despite the undercurrent of worry about Mia. The secret was out—at least to the people who mattered most. Whatever came next, he wouldn't face it alone.
Even if "what came next" involved explaining to his entire squad why his surveillance bot had mysteriously hacked itself.
That conversation was going to be interesting.
As they turned the corner toward the dorms, Alex caught one last glimpse of the Reflection Chamber's door closing behind them. In the narrow window, he saw his reflection—no longer trapped and alone, but walking with friends.
[SYSTEM UPDATE: Social bonds strengthened. Current squad cohesion: 85%. Morale: High. Status: No longer carrying crushing secret alone. Assessment: This is what humans call "having friends." Enjoy it, you disaster. You've earned this.]
"Thanks, brain," Alex muttered.
"What'd it say?" Lila asked.
"That I'm a disaster. But a disaster who did good."
"Accurate," Jax agreed cheerfully, slinging an arm around Alex's shoulders heavy enough to nearly buckle his knees. "The best kind of disaster! Now let's go have snacks and grill you about your illegal brain surgery!"
"It wasn't surgery, it was an accident—"
"EVEN BETTER! This is like a medical drama and a spy show had a baby!"
"Please stop talking," Lila said, but she was smiling.
Mia laughed—genuine this time—and pulled up her tablet. "Okay, we're having a proper debrief. I'm making a list of questions.
Number one: Can you download how to make Mia's favorite gadgets work better? Because that would be VERY useful."
"That's not how it works—"
"Number two: Does the system have a name? Can we name it? I vote for Gerald."
[SYSTEM: Absolutely not. No names. I am a sophisticated AI interface, not a pet. Although... Gerald does have a certain dignity to it. NO. Stop it. We're not doing this.]
"It says no, but I think it's considering it,"
Alex reported.
"GERALD IT IS!" Jax announced.
As they disappeared into the dorms, their laughter echoing down the corridor, Alex felt something settle in his chest. This was his squad. His team. His friends.
And whatever chaos tomorrow brought, they'd face it together.