Dominic noticed the first gap on a Tuesday.
He did not remember waking up.
One moment, he was in his bed at the mansion, the curtains still drawn, the city asleep beyond the glass. The next, he was standing in the observation wing of the facility, his coat already on, a tablet in his hand, and ATHENA's voice finishing a sentence.
"…confirmed. Subject Lena status: stabilized."
Dominic blinked.
He looked down at his hand. The tablet was warm, as if he had been holding it for a while. His coat was buttoned wrong. His pulse was too fast for a man who had just arrived.
"How long have I been here?" he asked.
"Thirty-seven minutes," ATHENA replied.
Dominic frowned slightly. "From what time?"
"From 06:12 a.m."
Dominic checked the wall clock. It was almost seven.
He didn't remember leaving his mansion.
He didn't remember the drive.
He didn't remember speaking to ATHENA.
A small irritation curled inside him.
"I didn't authorize an early visit," he said.
"You did," ATHENA answered calmly. "Voice authorization confirmed."
Dominic's jaw tightened. "Play it."
ATHENA paused, then projected the audio.
Dominic's own voice filled the room.
"Open Director access. I want to see her progress."
Her.
Ann.
The voice sounded like him.
But colder.
Sharper.
As if the words had been sharpened on a blade.
Dominic stared at the glass wall overlooking the participant hall.
Ann was there, sitting against the wall, knees pulled to her chest. A faint bruise marked her temple. Her wristband glowed green.
"She didn't see you," the voice whispered inside him.
Dominic's eyes darkened. "You moved."
The voice did not deny it.
"You took time from me."
"You left it open."
Dominic's fingers curled around the tablet.
"I don't leave doors open."
"You were thinking of her."
"That's not—"
"You were dreaming."
Silence fell between them.
Dominic remembered the dream from the night before. The hallway. The younger Ann. The way she had looked at him.
You didn't save me.
His grip tightened.
"I don't sleep," Dominic said.
"You don't rest," the voice corrected. "There's a difference."
Dominic turned away from the glass and strode down the hall. Researchers bowed as he passed. He barely noticed.
"How much did you do?" he asked inwardly.
"I only watched."
"Liar."
"I only looked."
Dominic stopped walking.
In front of him was a screen showing experiment schedules.
One had been edited.
The poisoning test for Ann had been delayed.
By two days.
His name was on the authorization.
Dominic stared at it.
"I didn't do this."
The voice was quiet. "I did."
His chest burned.
"Why?"
"She was too weak."
"She's supposed to break."
"She's not ready."
Dominic's mouth curved into a thin smile. "You're getting emotional."
"You used to be."
"I killed that part of me."
"You locked me up."
"And yet here you are."
The voice wavered. "You're slipping."
Dominic laughed softly. "I own this place."
"You don't own yourself."
---
Later that day, another gap appeared.
Dominic was in his private office reviewing mortality graphs when he smelled something wrong.
Tea.
He didn't drink tea.
On his desk was a cup, still steaming.
He looked at it with suspicion.
"ATHENA, who brought this?"
"Director, you did."
Dominic stared at the cup as if it might speak.
"I don't drink this."
"You requested chamomile," ATHENA replied. "You said it helped with… headaches."
Dominic's eyes narrowed. "Play that."
His voice again.
"Chamomile. No sugar. And lower the lights."
The tone was different.
Not cruel.
Not mocking.
Soft.
Almost… human.
Dominic slammed the cup off the desk. It shattered against the wall, spilling liquid across the floor.
"Stop it," he snarled inwardly.
The voice trembled. "You feel pain now."
"I cause it."
"You avoid it."
"You interfere again, I'll erase you."
"You can't."
Dominic didn't respond.
Because he knew that was true.
He could drown the voice.
He could bury it.
But he couldn't kill it.
Not completely.
---
That night, he checked the security footage.
He hated doing it. It made him feel like prey.
He pulled up recordings from early morning.
There he was—walking into the facility.
But the way he walked was wrong.
Slower.
Less predatory.
He paused at doors.
He stood longer at Ann's cell.
He didn't smile.
"What did you say to her?" Dominic demanded.
The voice hesitated. "Nothing."
"You stood there."
"I watched her breathe."
Dominic's stomach twisted.
"You wasted time."
"She's not a subject to me."
"She's a variable."
"She's the girl you loved."
Dominic slammed the desk.
"That girl doesn't exist."
"She still does. In you."
Dominic turned off the footage.
His hands shook.
Not with fear.
With fury.
---
The gaps became more frequent.
Minutes at first.
Then half-hours.
Once, he found blood on his knuckles.
Not from a fight he remembered.
Not from a punishment he ordered.
Someone had been hurt.
And he couldn't remember enjoying it.
Which was worse.
"Who did this?" Dominic asked.
"I tried to stop you," the voice whispered.
"Stop me from what?"
"From killing him."
Dominic's lips curved. "Did I succeed?"
"No."
The room felt smaller.
"You're sabotaging me."
"I'm protecting what's left."
"Of what?"
"Of us."
Dominic went to the mirror.
He studied his face.
Perfect skin.
Cold eyes.
A king's posture.
But something behind his gaze flickered.
A second presence.
"You think you're strong," the voice said. "But you can't even stay awake."
Dominic smiled.
"A king doesn't need sleep."
"He needs control."
"I have it."
"You're leaking."
Dominic leaned closer to the mirror.
"I built this system," he whispered. "I built ATHENA. I built the facility. I built the fear."
"And you built a cage inside your own head."
Dominic straightened.
"Enjoy your little moments," he said. "They won't last."
"They're already happening."
He turned away from the mirror.
Outside his office, Ann was walking down the corridor under guard.
Her eyes were sharper now.
Watching.
Learning.
Dominic felt something twist.
Not pleasure.
Not yet.
Something else.
And that frightened him more than the gaps.
Because gaps meant weakness.
And weakness meant the voice inside him was no longer just whispering.
It was learning when to speak.