Adrian's pov:
I remembered her hands on my collar in the lab, dragging me away from the collapse.
I remembered her voice cutting through static.
I remembered the first time she looked at me like she wanted something more than survival.
> And none of that was programmable.
She was trembling when I pulled her into my arms.
She didn't fight it.
"I don't care," I murmured into her hair. "About the others. About the program. About what they made you do."
"But I do," she said.
Her voice broke.
"I care. Because every time you look at me like I'm real—I feel like I'm lying."
---
System Intercept: Neural Instability Detected
> Subject: ECHO-000 experiencing identity split recurrence. External trigger: Host-001 affection markers. Correction protocol authorized.
Begin False Memory Integration.
Objective: Sever unapproved bond.
It was trying to erase us.
Rhea's pov:
The pain came in flashes.
Needles. Screams. A fire that wasn't real but felt real.
My knees buckled.
Adrian caught me before I hit the ground, but my vision blurred.
Something was clawing inside my skull.
"Rhea?" he said, voice sharp. "Rhea—what is it?"
"I—I don't—" I couldn't breathe.
And then—
I remembered something I never lived.
A memory not mine.
A hand around Adrian's throat.
My hand.
Squeezing until he turned blue.
Killing him.
And I screamed.
Because the system was rewriting me.
> And this time, it wasn't trying to erase the past.
Adrian's pov:
I held her as she shook and screamed, whispering her name like it could anchor her, like it could protect her from what was coming.
I knew the signs.
This wasn't a memory.
This was intervention.
> They'd found us.
Not with guns. Not with drones.
With control.
With corruption.
And if I didn't stop it now—
I was going to lose her all over again.
Only this time, there wouldn't be a tank to wake her from.
Only a grave.
Rhea's pov
It felt like drowning.
Not in water. Not in fire.
But in noise.
A static wave tearing through my skull, screaming over every thought I'd ever had. I couldn't hear Adrian. I couldn't feel my body. I could only feel her.
> The version they wanted me to become.
Adrian's pov:
She was calm. Polished. Programmed to serve, to smile, to love on command.
And she was winning.
> "You were never meant to survive," the voice inside me whispered. "You were the prototype. The error."
But I remembered the blood.
The scars.
The choice.
I chose to live.
Not because they wanted me to.
But because I wanted him.
Adrian's pov
Her eyes were rolling back.
Her body convulsed like something inside her was being ripped out—or worse, forced in.
"Rhea," I shouted. "Look at me."
She couldn't.
Not yet.
So I did the only thing I could think of.
I dragged her to the control console behind the tank and tore off the panel, wires sparking as my hand slammed into the emergency override.
"System access," I hissed. "User code Vale—"
> "ACCESS DENIED."
"Override that, you son of a—!"
But then something clicked.
Biometric pairing detected.
"Host-001, neural sync confirmed."
> "Would you like to execute shared memory fusion?"
I froze.
If I said yes… we'd be connected.
All of her trauma. All of my corruption. Every lie between us.
But maybe that was the only way left.
> "Do it," I whispered.
And the world collapsed.
---
Rhea
Suddenly, I wasn't alone in the dark.
He was there.
Not touching. Just present.
I saw him as he saw me—messy, broken, dangerous.
I saw myself through his memories.
> The first time I touched his hand. The way I looked at him in the library. The moment I screamed his name when I thought he'd die.
None of it was part of the script.
None of it was programmed.
And neither was this.
I turned to the other me—the clean, fake version screaming inside my mind—and I said:
> "You don't belong here."
And I let her die.
---
System Error
> Host-001 and Subject-ECHO-000 have merged unscripted memory patterns. Emotional tethering: irreversible. Memory overwrite failure. Reboot impossible.
System shutdown imminent.
---
Adrian
When her eyes opened—
They were hers.
Not perfect. Not blank.
Real.
She blinked like someone waking up from a war.
I touched her face.
She didn't flinch.
"You came back," I said, barely breathing.
She laughed.
It was a shaky, broken laugh.
But it was hers.
> "I didn't leave."
---
Unknown Location – Observation Room
> "They fused," a voice muttered.
Static crackled.
Glass fractured.
> "No. They chose each other."
And that—
Was never part of the design.
Rhea
The fire didn't reach us.
But the scream of the collapsing ceiling did.
Adrian yanked me back just in time as the last tank exploded, blue coolant hissing into the dark like steam from a dying beast.
> "Is it over?" I asked, breathless.
He didn't answer.
Because it wasn't.
Not really.
> The lab was gone. But the ones watching… weren't.
---
Unknown Location – Directive Hall
> "The asset has gone rogue."
> "Correction," someone murmured. "Both assets."
A hand swept across the black glass surface of the table. Dozens of holograms bloomed to life: security footage, neural scan overlays, GPS anomalies.
And in the middle—Adrian's face.
Eyes wild.
Smiling.
> "Terminate the boy," the voice commanded. "Recover the girl."
> "Echo-000?"
A pause.
> "Wipe her. Try again."
---
Adrian
We didn't stop running until the sun came up.
Rhea's fingers were cold in mine, but she didn't let go—not even when her legs nearly buckled beneath her.
We collapsed behind an abandoned gas station on the highway, lungs burning, the world too bright.
"I can't go back," she whispered.
I looked at her—truly looked—and saw someone who had nothing left to lose.
> And for the first time… I understood her completely.
"You won't," I promised.
> "They'll come for me."
"Then let them."
I meant it.
But a part of me already knew:
> We weren't free.
We were out.
But not free.
---
Rhea
He didn't know the rest.
Not yet.
He didn't know what they implanted in me—what command still echoed in my spine, triggered by a sound code only they had.
They called it the Marionette Sequence.
One word.
And I'd become someone else.
Someone obedient.
Someone lethal.
I pressed my palm against Adrian's chest and listened to his heartbeat.
Steady.
Real.
I would die before they turned me against him.
> But what if I didn't get the choice?
---
Surveillance Drone Log — 06:14 A.M.
> Target acquired: SUBJECT ECHO-000 Host proximity: ACTIVE Emotional contamination: HIGH Initiating passive observation. Awaiting activation code…
Code Phrase: "Velvet Sunday."
Status: On Hold.
---
Adrian
She fell asleep on my shoulder.
And I didn't sleep at all.
Because something in her had shifted again.
Not broken.
Not distant.
But guarded.
Like even now—after all we'd burned down—she still expected to be used.
> And I would prove her wrong.
Even if it killed me.
Rhea
It was a motel that smelled like bleach and mildew.
One bed. One cracked mirror. A vending machine outside with half the buttons jammed.
But to me, it was almost holy.
No electrodes. No glass walls. No cameras.
Or so I thought.
> "We need money," Adrian said, glancing out the curtain.
His voice was low. Focused.
Like he was already planning our disappearance.
I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at my hands.
The gloves were gone.
I didn't know when I'd taken them off.
I didn't know if I'd ever wear them again.
> My skin didn't feel like mine anymore.
---
Adrian
We had nothing but a stolen wallet and the clothes on our backs.
I could fix that.
Fake IDs. Cash. Disguises. I'd done worse to survive my father.
But Rhea…
She was somewhere else.
Frozen.
> "You with me?" I asked, crouching down.
She blinked. Once.
> "Yes," she lied.
---
Unknown Transmission – Location Redacted
> "Subject ECHO-000 is off-route."
> "The override phrase hasn't been used."
> "She's resisting?"
> "No. She's... waking up."
A pause.
The screen crackled.
> "Then wake her properly."
Command uploaded: Velvet Sunday.
Delivery method: Audio burst
ETA: 12 hours
Carrier: UNIT-07 (Mobile Human Vector)
---
Rhea
That night, I dreamed of mirrors.
And in every reflection—I was someone else.
One smiled.
One bled.
One looked exactly like the girl in the tank.
I jolted awake, gasping.
Adrian was already up, armed with nothing but a knife and paranoia.
> "You were talking in your sleep," he said.
I froze.
"What did I say?"
He hesitated.
> "You kept saying the same thing. 'Velvet Sunday. Velvet Sunday.'"
My blood ran cold.
---
Adrian
I didn't tell her everything.
Like the fact her voice sounded wrong.
Like it wasn't her at all.
It was higher.
Cleaner.
Empty.
> Like a recording.
I stared at her the whole next day, waiting for it to happen again.
It didn't.
But something did change.
She wouldn't hold my hand.
Wouldn't meet my eyes.
> And she didn't remember saying anything at all.
---
Rhea
I found the wire behind my ear by accident.
Buried under skin, almost invisible.
A pulse device. Very old tech. One I hadn't felt in years.
> I dug it out myself in the bathroom sink.
The pain was blinding. The blood wouldn't stop.
But I did it.
> "They won't touch me again," I whispered.
But I didn't tell Adrian.
Because I wasn't sure if removing the wire… meant I was free.
Or if it meant they'd trigger something worse.
---
System Notification: ECHO-000 No Longer Receiving Signals
Status: Rogue
Initiating Contingency File: MARIONETTE'S CURSE
Projected Outcome: