Madrid – Framework Emergency Safehouse.
4:17 a.m.
Tessa sat on the floor, knees pulled to her chest, staring at the photo of her younger self.
"Anchor Two…"
The words wouldn't stop echoing.
Dave stood at the window, jaw clenched, watching for any sign of movement outside. He'd shut down two city blocks. Called in favors he didn't even want to owe.
But it was Tessa's silence that worried him more than any assassin.
"You haven't said anything in 40 minutes," he finally said.
She didn't look up.
"Because I don't know who I am."
He turned.
"You're still you."
She looked him dead in the eye.
"Am I?"
Later – Makeshift Lab, Lower Level.
Thin Ice examined the contents of the Anchor vial.
"This ain't some sci-fi serum. It's neural."
"Meant to trigger memory compression. Emotional deadening."
He paused.
"They weren't trying to make her stronger."
"They were trying to make her feel... less."
Dave's voice was low.
"Like a weapon that doesn't question the trigger."
Elsewhere – Inside The Round.
A dark table. Men and women in silence.
One spoke:
"Is Anchor Two compromised?"
Another nodded.
"She's remembering. But that may work in our favor."
"If Reign trusts her… and she's wired to break under pressure…"
They all understood.
A time bomb inside his closest bond.
Back in Madrid.
Tessa stood in front of a mirror.
Something pulsed behind her eyes.
Memories she didn't own.
Commands in voices she couldn't place.
Then — pain.
A sudden spike.
She dropped to her knees, gasping. Gripping her skull.
"Activate… Echo… Protocol… Reign…"
The words whispered like static in her brain.
Dave rushed in.
"Tessa!"
She looked up at him — but her eyes were distant.
"Something's inside me."
Later – Framework Jet, En Route to Amsterdam.
Dave made the call.
To someone he never thought he'd contact again.
Dr. Lang.
A former neuro-coder who once worked with the Round… before disappearing.
The man who helped Dave erase a part of his own past.
Lang agreed to meet — on one condition:
"If she's been activated... you'll need to make a choice."
"Save her… or stop her."
Dave didn't respond.
Because he already knew:
He'd never choose.
He'd find a third option.
Even if it meant burning the whole system down.
Mid-Air – Framework Jet Over Western Europe.
Tessa was strapped to a reclined seat.
Eyes closed. Breathing even. Electrodes on her temples.
Dave sat across from her, watching every twitch.
Thin Ice monitored the neural tablet.
"Heart rate steady… but theta waves are spiking."
"She's dreaming. But not naturally."
Dave leaned closer.
"Tessa?"
She opened her eyes.
And they were… different.
"Anchor Two," she said in a low, even voice.
"Directive override pending. Phase Zero active."
Then — her hand moved fast — grabbing the scalpel beside her.
Before she could swing — Dave caught her wrist mid-air.
She didn't struggle. Just stared.
"I don't want to hurt you, Dave."
"But I will if the program tells me to."
One Hour Later – Amsterdam. A Dark Alley Behind a Bakery.
Dr. Lang stepped out of the shadows.
Older. Paler. Beard rough. But eyes still sharp like razors.
"She's close to breaking," he said.
"That's good. Means the real her is fighting back."
Dave crossed his arms.
"Just fix her."
Lang shook his head slowly.
"She doesn't need fixing."
"She needs remembering."
Inside Lang's Lab – Underground Bunker.
Tessa sat in a chair surrounded by projection glass.
Lang walked around her slowly.
"The Anchor Program wasn't about control."
"It was about replacement."
"They didn't want to turn you into a weapon."
"They wanted to turn you into someone else."
A screen blinked. Loaded a file titled:
ANCHOR CLASS: ALPHA, BETA, REIGN.
Dave froze.
"What did you just say?"
Lang tapped the screen.
Three branches of Anchor experiments:
Anchor Alpha – Cognitive obedience trainingAnchor Beta – Trauma-triggered memory fragmentationAnchor REIGN – Hybrid subjects with emotional mimicry and strategic dominance
Lang looked at Dave.
"That's you."
"REIGN wasn't just your name."
"It was your designation."
FLASHBACK – YEARS AGO.
Dave, younger. Cold. In a white room. Men in suits asking questions.
"What do you feel when you see her cry?"
"Nothing."
They nod.
"That's good. Reign adapts."
Present.
Dave's hands curled into fists.
"I was in the program."
Lang nodded.
"They buried it. Deep."
"But every move you made… every choice… wasn't random."
"They designed you to lead."
"The streets didn't create Reign."
"The system did."
Tessa looked up at him, tears barely held back.
"They didn't just use me."
"They built us."
Amsterdam – Lang's Bunker, Sub-Level 2.
The walls buzzed with ancient tech and biometric screens.
Dave and Tessa stood side-by-side, staring at two chairs wired with electrodes and pulse triggers.
Lang motioned toward them.
"We call this the Reintegration Chair."
"It bypasses the mind's defenses — unlocking memories the program buried."
Tessa asked the only question that mattered:
"What's the risk?"
Lang didn't sugarcoat it.
"Seizures. Identity collapse. Cardiac failure."
"But if you want the full truth… the real map of what they did to you…"
He tapped the headsets.
"This is the key."
Dave looked at Tessa.
"You don't have to do this."
Tessa stared back.
"I do."
"Because I need to know if any of what I feel is me... or just a command line."
Twenty Minutes Later.
Tessa was the first in.
Monitors lit up. Her breathing slowed.
Then— images began flashing across the screen.
A childhood birthday party, but the faces were blank.A white room. Needles. A woman screaming her name.A face she didn't remember… hugging her.
"You'll forget me… but I won't forget you."
Her heart rate spiked.
Lang hit the override — barely stabilizing her.
Dave stood frozen, fists clenched.
"Let me in."
Dave's Turn.
The moment the headset touched his temples — pain struck like a bullet to the skull.
Screams. Noise. Silence.
Then—
A classroom.
Uniformed teens. A girl crying.
Dave — silent. Unblinking. Writing answers faster than the rest.
Voice from the intercom:
"Subject: REIGN. Social detachment remains stable."
"Continue conditioning."
He remembered being taken from his real mother — offered a "better future."
He remembered refusing. Fighting.
Then... nothing.
Until the streets.
Until the lies.
Until now.
Suddenly — the system glitched.
Lang shouted, "Pull him out!"
But the screen didn't go black.
It lit red.
A new message appeared:
ANCHOR REIGN: Primary Directive Reactivated
Phase Zero Clock – 24 Hours Remaining
Dave opened his eyes.
And whispered:
"They planted something in me too…"
"And it just woke up."
Amsterdam – Lang's Lab, 1:44 a.m.
Dave sat in silence.
Hands shaking. Eyes locked on the screen.
"Phase Zero Clock – 23:12:38"
Tessa hovered near, but she didn't speak.
Thin Ice stared at the data spike on his tablet.
"This isn't a protocol activation."
"It's a countdown."
Lang nodded slowly.
"They didn't just program you, Reign."
"They planted a trigger."
Dave didn't blink.
"For what?"
Lang didn't answer.
Because he didn't know.
Meanwhile – In Berlin, Round HQ.
An encrypted comm line opened on the Board's mainframe.
A voice spoke:
"REIGN is active."
"He's already begun."
Another voice asked:
"Can he be controlled?"
"No."
"But he can be used."
Back in Amsterdam.
Dave walked to the sink. Washed his face.
But when he looked into the mirror…
For a moment — just half a second — the reflection wasn't him.
It smirked.
Cold. Confident.
Then it vanished.
He staggered back.
Tessa was by his side instantly.
"What did you see?"
He paused.
"Something… else."
A few hours later – In the Framework surveillance room.
Footage played from earlier that night.
Dave — standing in a hallway he didn't remember entering.
Talking to someone who wasn't there.
His voice calm. Confident.
"I'll handle the fallback."
"Just make sure they never see it coming."
Then he turned. Walked away.
But when Dave watched it now, he whispered:
"I don't remember saying any of that…"
Tessa stared at him, her voice low.
"You're blacking out."
"You're switching."
Lang confirmed it.
"The Reign Program… is trying to take control."
Later – Hidden Room Beneath the Lab.
Lang opened a safe.
Inside: a small glass capsule with a thin black needle.
"This is the override."
"Inject this into your spine — it will short out the trigger sequence."
Dave asked:
"And if I don't?"
Lang didn't hesitate.
"You'll lose yourself."
"And when you do — you'll become the most dangerous thing on Earth."
Dave stared at the needle.
Then looked at Tessa.
"If I cross that line…"
"You end me."
She didn't flinch.
"Then don't cross it."
"Because I won't hesitate."