The Prototype's chest cracked open—
metal plates shifting aside like the peeling of a monstrous ribcage.
Inside—
A humming, pulsing core flickered with red and white light.
Like a heartbeat made of static.
Like a memory trying to take shape.
Lucian's face went bloodless.
"No…
No, no—this can't be happening—"
Chandler instinctively grabbed Rowan, shielding him fully.
Rowan trembled uncontrollably, tears running down his cheeks.
"Chandler—please—don't let it near us—don't—don't let it—!"
"I won't," Chandler whispered fiercely, holding Rowan against him.
"You're safe. I swear, you're safe."
But even he sounded shaken.
Because the Prototype's voice—
that glitching distortion—
had changed.
Quieter.
Lower.
More… human.
"…Elleanore…"
Lucian stumbled backward, grabbing a nearby console for support.
"Elleanore—
don't get closer—
don't answer it—
don't even LOOK at that core—"
But I couldn't look away.
My body leaned toward it—
as if part of me recognized that light.
The Prototype's cracked lens flickered.
Its voice trembled.
Not growled.
Not ordered.
Trembled.
"…Elliot…"
My heart stopped.
Everything inside me went silent.
My knees nearly buckled.
"Wh-what…
did you say…?"
The Prototype's next words glitched with static, breaking and reforming—
each syllable trembling like a corrupted recording.
"Elliot…
alive."
My breath tore out of me in a single gasp.
"WHAT—?!"
Rowan screamed, clinging to Chandler.
"Ch-Chandler—make it stop—MAKE IT STOP—!!"
"I'm here—don't look—don't listen—just focus on me, baby—please—"
The Prototype continued:
"…Elliot…
waiting…
in the lower wing…"
"No—" Lucian choked.
"No—NO—ELLEANORE—DON'T LISTEN—
it's manipulating you—
that wing collapsed YEARS ago—!!"
But the Prototype spoke again—
and this time it wasn't lying.
Its voice cracked like a broken child whispering through metal.
"…Elliot…
was not alone…"
My blood froze.
"What…?"
The Prototype's core pulsed.
Chest plates opened wider.
Inside the core—
for the first time—
the white static shifted.
Shaped.
Into—
A distorted silhouette.
A boy.
Small.
Thin.
Hunched forward.
Hands gripping the sides of his head.
Like he was screaming in silence.
Horace's hand in mine gave a weak twitch—
like even unconscious he felt the shift.
Lucian whispered:
"Oh god…"
The Prototype's voice cracked:
"…Elliot…
merged…"
My entire body stilled.
Merged?
Merged?
"What do you mean merged?"
My voice shook.
"What did you DO to him?"
The Prototype's head tilted.
Static buzzed.
It repeated quietly—
"…blood…
of origin…"
Lucian tore himself away from the console and ran to a broken control panel.
He began ripping wires out of the wall, bypassing safety encryption with trembling hands.
"Elleanore—
whatever you do—
DO NOT let that thing finish speaking!"
I ignored him.
I stepped closer.
"Elleanore—NO—!!" Lucian screamed.
But I didn't stop.
I stood inches from the Prototype—
from that flickering core—
from the silhouette inside desperately clawing at its cage.
My voice was barely breath:
"Elliot…?"
The silhouette twitched violently.
The Prototype's voice trembled.
"…Elliot…
inside…"
Inside.
Inside.
Inside.
"No…" I whispered, stumbling back.
"No—no—NO—
YOU'RE LYING—
YOU'RE LYING—!!"
But the Prototype raised one shaking claw toward me—
and a soft, broken, perfectly human whisper escaped the static:
"…Elle…"
Everything inside me shattered.
That was his voice.
Elliot's voice.
Rowan covered his ears, sobbing wildly.
"NO—NO—NO—MAKE IT STOP—!!!"
Chandler held him tighter, voice breaking.
"Rowan—sweetheart—don't listen—don't—come here—look at me—look at me—
I know—I know—just breathe—please—"
Lucian slammed a fist into the console.
"STOP—PLEASE—STOP LISTENING—!!"
But the Prototype was still speaking—
its voice growing weaker
more human
as if the core's memories were surfacing.
"…Elliot…
called for you…"
My throat burned.
"Elliot—
are you—
are you alive—
are you—what did they—
WHAT DID THEY DO TO YOU?!"
The silhouette in the core curled inward—
hands over its ears—
shaking violently.
The Prototype whispered:
"…pain…
fear…
alone…"
Lucian violently ripped out another handful of wires.
"Elleanore—
IT'S NOT ELLIOT—
It's USING his residual data—!!
DO NOT LET IT INSIDE YOUR INSTINCT—!!"
I screamed at him:
"I HEARD HIM—!!
I HEARD HIM SAY MY NAME—!!
THAT WAS HIM—!!"
Lucian's voice cracked:
"Elleanore—
please—
think—
Elliot's scent would've lingered—
Elliot's bond—
Elliot's memory imprint—
he would've—
I would've—
Elleanore—
I would've felt him—"
I froze.
"What…?"
Lucian's hands trembled over the console.
"Elleanore…
I was Elliot's roommate."
My heart stuttered.
"What—?"
Lucian swallowed, voice thick with pain.
"I didn't tell you—
because I thought knowing wouldn't help—
and because I didn't know what the Prototype did to him—
but I know this—"
He pointed at the Prototype's core.
"That is NOT Elliot."
The Prototype immediately countered:
"…Elleanore…
trust…
me…"
Lucian slammed his hand on the panel.
"IT CAN MIMIC HIM—
IT HAS HIS RECORDINGS—
HIS GENETICS—
HIS TRAITS—
BUT NOT HIS SOUL—!!!"
I shook violently.
"He said my name…"
Lucian shouted:
"BECAUSE IT READ YOUR MEMORIES—!!
That is not your brother.
That is a parasite built from your family's DNA."
The Prototype's claws twitched.
It leaned closer—
voice almost pleading:
"…Elle…
help…"
And that nearly killed me.
Because Elliot had said those exact words the night he disappeared.
But Lucian wasn't done.
"Elleanore—
listen to me—
the final files—
the ones they erased from our system—
they were stored IN THE PROTOTYPE—
and I just unlocked them—"
He ripped the last wire free.
The medbay lights flickered.
A broken screen sparked to life.
A single file loaded.
A video.
Rowan whimpered weakly, shaking in Chandler's arms.
"Chandler… what is that…?"
Chandler pulled him closer.
"Don't look, sweetheart. Don't look."
Lucian's voice was barely a whisper.
"Elleanore…
it's Elliot's last lab recording."
My entire world stilled.
My lungs froze.
The video began.
The image was grainy.
Distorted.
A dim lab.
A broken camera angle.
A boy tied to a chair.
Wrists restrained.
Mouth gagged.
Eyes—
Elliot's eyes—
wide
terrified
swollen from crying.
My breath shattered into pieces.
Elliot.
My brother.
Still alive in that moment.
Still whole.
Still him.
A blurry figure stepped into frame—
holding a metal injector.
Elliot flinched and shook violently.
He made a muffled, panicked cry.
The figure said:
"Prototype subject will be merged with genetic donor data.
Initiate overwrite sequence."
I screamed:
"STOP THE VIDEO—STOP—PLEASE—STOP—!!"
Lucian slammed a hand on the console.
"Elleanore—YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS—!!"
The injector pierced Elliot's neck.
He jerked so violently the chair nearly fell.
His scream was muffled by the gag.
Rowan sobbed into Chandler's chest, begging it to stop.
Chandler held him tighter, whispering broken reassurances.
Lucian's voice shook:
"The first override failed—
and Elliot—
Elliot—
couldn't survive the second."
"No…"
I whispered.
"No—PLEASE—NO—"
The figure in the video spoke again:
"Terminate donor."
A gloved hand reached for the machine control.
Elliot thrashed violently—
eyes wide with pure terror.
His muffled voice screamed—
Not words.
Just pain.
Just fear.
Just begging.
The screen glitched.
The footage cut.
The audio remained—
a single, broken cry.
My knees hit the floor.
My stomach twisted.
My heart cracked so sharply I thought my ribs would break.
Lucian whispered:
"Elleanore…
your brother died in the lab.
The Prototype didn't take him.
The Prototype didn't keep him."
His voice trembled with grief.
"He never left that room."
I couldn't breathe.
I couldn't think.
I couldn't—
The Prototype's core flickered.
The silhouette inside faded.
Its voice glitch-whispered:
"…Elleanore…
don't cry…"
I choked on a sob.
"That—
that's—
that's not him—
but it SOUNDS like him—
WHY—?!"
Lucian grabbed my shoulders.
"Because that is all that's left—
a memory fragment—
a corrupted imprint.
A ghost inside a machine."
The Prototype's metal frame trembled.
Static flickered violently.
"…Elle…
come home…"
I stood slowly.
Shaking.
Broken.
Devastated.
But not collapsing.
Not anymore.
I looked the Prototype in its glowing, flickering lens—
And whispered:
"You're not Elliot."
Static cracked.
The Prototype shrieked:
"ELLEANORE—
I AM—YOUR—FAMILY—!!"
"No."
My scent rose—
not wild
not collapsing—
clear.
Powerful.
Lethal.
"I am my family."
I stepped forward—
voice steady.
"And I don't need you."
The Prototype screamed.
The walls shook.
Lucian covered his ears.
Chandler shielded Rowan.
Horace's breath wavered behind me.
And I whispered:
"Origin ends with me."
Bloodline Breaker
The Prototype's scream tore through the medbay—
a sound like metal splitting
electricity shorting
and a person crying
all at once.
The lights above us shattered—
CRACK—!!
Glass rained down.
Sparks flickered like fireflies.
Rowan flinched violently and clung to Chandler like he was drowning.
"Chandler—Chandler—make it stop—my head—my head—please—!!"
Chandler cupped Rowan's head, shielding his ears and pressing him tight to his chest.
"I know—I know—
I'm here—
you're okay—
just breathe—please—
don't shut down—don't leave me—"
Rowan sobbed into him, trembling so hard his knees buckled.
Chandler went down with him, holding him even tighter.
"Stay with me, baby—stay with me—look at me—hey—look—at—me—"
Rowan's glazed eyes focused on Chandler's only because Chandler's voice was breaking.
Lucian turned to them, startled.
"Rowan's overloading—!!
Chandler, keep him grounded—if he faints again he'll go into scent shock—!!"
Chandler pulled Rowan into his lap and cradled his face.
"Hey—sweetheart—listen to me—
she's not dying—
you're not dying—
we're safe—
I got you—okay—?
Stay here with me—stay with me—"
"I'm scared," Rowan whispered, voice barely there.
"I'm so scared…"
"I know.
Me too.
So stay with me."
Chandler kissed his forehead.
"I won't let anything touch you."
Rowan clutched his shirt like it was the only thing holding him to this world.
But the Prototype's scream wasn't done.
Not even close.
Its core pulsed bright red—
like a heartbeat gone feral.
Its voice glitched, shook, distorted—
"YOU—
ARE—
MINE—!!"
I didn't flinch.
Not anymore.
My eyes lifted to it, steady and unblinking.
"You are not family," I said.
My voice was raw—
but calm.
"You are a weapon wearing my brother's DNA."
The Prototype lurched forward, metal screeching.
Lucian staggered to my side, breathing hard.
"Elleanore—
your scent levels are rising again—
but not collapsing—
it's stable—
it's actually STABLE—
this is your Prime form—!"
I barely heard him.
Because the Prototype spoke—
and this time it sounded almost…
hurt.
"…Elleanore…
you reject…
your origin…"
"No," I whispered, stepping closer.
"I reject YOU."
Static burst from its frame.
Its claws extended fully—
the sharpened version meant for execution.
Lucian paled.
"Elleanore—this is the kill-mode—
if it touches you—
you're DONE—
do you understand—?!"
I nodded.
"I understand."
The Prototype charged.
BOOM—!!
It tore across the floor, metal plates screeching against the ground, sparks exploding with each step.
Lucian grabbed my wrist.
"Elleanore—DON'T—!!"
I slipped out of his grasp.
"I have to."
Rowan whimpered at the sound of metal tearing.
"Chandler—don't let it touch her—don't let her die—!!"
"She won't," Chandler whispered fiercely.
"She's not alone."
The Prototype swung its claws down—
aimed straight for my throat.
Everything slowed.
My breath.
My heartbeat.
The cold air swirling around me.
My instincts rose like light behind my ribs.
And I lifted my hand.
"STOP."
Not shouted.
Not cried.
Commanded.
My scent exploded outward—
not in a wave
but a sphere of resonance—
silent
invisible
but crushing.
It collided with the Prototype—
WHOOOOM—!!
The force blasted the metal monster backward—
slamming it into the medbay wall hard enough to leave a crater.
Lucian gaped.
"Elleanore—
you used a direct Prime command—
that's IMPOSSIBLE—!"
I ignored him.
The Prototype dug its claws into the wall and forced itself back up.
"…resistance…
adapting…
adapting…
ADAPTING…"
Its chest opened wider—
core pulsing violently—
throwing shadows across the room.
The silhouette of the "boy" flickered and warped into static.
My chest tightened.
Not grief.
Not hope.
Resolve.
"You're not him," I said softly.
"You never were."
The Prototype screamed like twisting steel.
Then it jumped—
a direct, lethal strike.
Its claws scythed through the air—
aiming to pierce my chest.
Lucian screamed:
"ELLEANORE—MOVE—!!"
Rowan screamed.
"DON'T LET IT TOUCH HER—!!!"
Chandler held him tighter.
"It won't—it WON'T—!"
The Prototype closed the distance—
inches from me.
My body moved.
Not by thought.
Not by fear.
By Instinct.
FULL Prime instinct.
I stepped into its attack—
not away—
into the center of its strike—
and placed my palm flat against its chest.
The contact was electric.
The Prototype's core reacted instantly.
"—ERROR—
ERROR—
PRIME IMPRINT—REJECT—"
My voice dropped low.
Steady.
Lethal.
"You don't get to wear his voice."
The Prototype twitched violently.
Its claws paused mid-penetration.
My scent surged—
pure
bright
terrifying.
"Give him back."
The Prototype spasmed.
Lucian shouted in shock:
"Elleanore—your resonance—
you're rewriting its code—!!
YOU'RE ACTUALLY REWRITING IT—!!"
The walls shook.
The ceiling groaned.
The lights flickered.
Rowan sobbed into Chandler's chest, overwhelmed.
Chandler held him so tight it looked painful.
"Don't listen—don't open your eyes—stay with me—Rowan, please—stay—"
I pressed my palm harder against the Prototype's core.
My voice was barely above a whisper—
but stronger than any scream.
"LET HIM GO."
The Prototype shrieked—
its body contorting violently.
The silhouette inside the core flickered wildly—
and for one heartbeat—
I saw his face.
Elliot.
My brother.
His eyes wide.
Terrified.
Begging.
But it wasn't real.
It wasn't him.
It was a memory fragment.
A ghost.
I pressed my forehead against the Prototype's chest.
Tears streamed down my face.
"You can't have him," I whispered.
"You can't keep him.
You can't pretend to be him."
The Prototype thrashed against my hand.
Its voice warbled:
"…why…
Elleanore…
why reject…
origin…"
My tears fell onto its metal frame.
"Because I loved him," I whispered.
"And you are not him."
My scent surged again—
the strongest it had ever been.
Lucian's eyes widened.
"Oh my god—
she's reaching the top threshold—
this is it—
this is her final form—"
The Prototype choked on static.
It spoke one last broken phrase—
"…Ellea…
together…"
My heart cracked.
But my instincts were steady.
"No," I said softly.
"You die here."
And I unleashed the FULL force of my Prime command.
"BREAK."
The shockwave that erupted—
was not sound.
Not wind.
Not power.
It was command.
It was instinct made real.
It was the will of a Prime.
The floor split.
The walls shook.
The Prototype's chest cracked open fully—
its core shattering in a burst of blinding white light.
The silhouette screamed—
static imploding—
echoing—
fading—
Then silence.
The Prototype fell to its knees—
metal melting
sparking
failing.
Its lens went dark.
Its claws dropped limp.
Its voice whispered one last corrupted echo of Elliot's tone—
"…Elle…"
And then—
the core shattered.
The Prototype collapsed onto the floor.
Dead.
Truly dead.
Rowan cried into Chandler's chest.
Lucian dropped to his knees.
And I fell backward—
straight into Lucian's arms as he caught me.
"Elleanore—Elleanore—
BREATHE—
BREATHE—!!"
I clutched my chest, gasping.
Not from collapse.
From—
"Horace—
HORACE—!"
Lucian spun.
Horace's monitor flickered—
pulse weak
slipping
fading.
Lucian cursed and sprinted to him.
"Elleanore—get over here—NOW—!!
He needs grounding—
he needs YOUR scent—
but controlled—
CALM—
STEADY—
not forceful—
not commanding—
just YOU—
JUST YOU—!!"
I crawled to the bed on shaking hands.
Chandler whispered to Rowan:
"She's saving him, sweetheart.
She's saving him now."
Rowan sobbed weakly, clinging to Chandler's shirt.
I reached Horace's side.
Placed my hand on his cheek.
Pressed my forehead to his.
And whispered:
"Come back to me.
Please."
The monitor flickered again—
a weak beat.
A second.
A third.
Lucian shouted:
"YES—YES—HE'S RESPONDING—
KEEP GOING—!!"
I breathed softly—
letting my scent warm
quiet
gentle
steady.
"Come back.
I need you.
We're not done."
The monitor steadied.
Finally—
finally—
Horace's eyelids twitched.
Then lifted—
just barely.
His voice was a breath.
"…Elle…?"
My heart cracked open.
"Horace—"
He coughed weakly—
painfully—
but his fingers curled around mine.
"You're…
safe…?"
Tears fell from my eyes onto his hand.
"Yes," I whispered.
"You're safe too."
He gave a faint smile—
broken
tired
but real.
"Good…"
His eyes closed again.
But he was breathing.
Alive.
Alive.
Lucian let out a sob of relief and slumped into a chair.
Chandler held Rowan close, both shaking.
I leaned over Horace and kissed his forehead.
"I'm here," I whispered.
"And I'm not going anywhere."