The light from the mirror faded as the chamber settled into a ghostly stillness. Ava sat beside Caroline, both catching their breath as dust floated like ash in the air. The silence was no longer ominous—it was the kind that followed a deep truth, raw and undeniable.
Caroline looked older, not just in years but in weight. Her eyes held storms. Ava saw herself reflected there. Not as a child, not as a subject, but as a survivor.
"They tried to erase us," Ava whispered.
Caroline nodded. "And we almost let them."
The journal, still clutched in Ava's hand, pulsed with the truth. Cassandra's final entries hinted at things even deeper—experiments, choices, failures. Names they hadn't dared speak aloud. Ezra's voice echoed in Ava's mind: We're not done yet.
"The Institute never shut down," Caroline said. "They just changed names. Changed faces. But the rot's still there."
Ava looked toward the mirror. It no longer shimmered. It was just glass now. Cold. Passive.
"We need to bring it down," Ava said. "Not just the Institute. The whole system that let this happen."
Caroline smiled again, grim. "You sound like Cassandra."
Footsteps returned—Ezra, blood on his sleeve, breath ragged. "I bought us five minutes. Maybe less."
"They followed you?"
"They followed the truth," he said, glancing at the journal. "They always do."
Ava stood. "Then let's give them more than they bargained for."
They moved fast, retracing their steps through the bunker. Ava mapped the path in her mind—symbols, valves, chambers half-collapsed. This place was old, but still alive, humming beneath the surface like a wounded animal.
Somewhere behind them, the Institute's agents were descending, armed and relentless. Ava could feel their presence like a shadow stretching forward.
In the utility corridor, Caroline keyed open a panel. Inside: a transmitter. Military grade. Buried decades ago, but still intact.
"We get this signal out," she said, "we expose everything."
Ezra began patching it to their encrypted drive. Ava uploaded the journal—every page, every signature, every secret.
"This is it," she said.
But then—the lights flickered. A low hum rose from the floor.
"They're jamming it," Ezra said. "They're already in the system."
Caroline slammed her fist on the console. "We need another uplink."
Ava's eyes widened. "The observation deck. It's above ground. Unshielded."
"But guarded," Ezra warned.
Ava looked at them. "We'll make it."
They ran.
Up spiral stairs coated in rust. Past rooms filled with forgotten bones of machines. Every breath burned now. The bunker wasn't just resisting—it was mourning.
Gunfire erupted below.
"Keep moving!" Ava shouted.
The deck was within reach. The old steel door creaked open to the night air. Stars bled across the sky, indifferent and cold.
Ezra threw the signal booster onto the ledge. "Three seconds!"
The files streamed.
Then—shouts. A flash. A gun raised.
Ava turned.
The agent stood at the stairs, weapon leveled.
Caroline didn't hesitate. She stepped in front of Ava, hands raised.
"Don't!" Ava screamed.
The shot rang.
Caroline dropped.
Ava dove, grabbing the gun, slamming it from the agent's hand. They struggled, fists, blood, pain. Ezra helped. Together they overpowered him.
Caroline lay still.
Ava crawled to her side. Blood pooled beneath her. Her breath was shallow.
"I had to," Caroline whispered. "You... you were always the one meant to finish this."
Tears blurred Ava's vision.
Ezra called out. "The upload... it's done."
In the distance—sirens. Not Institute. Real ones.
Ava looked at the horizon.
Caroline's last breath faded like a ghost.
The world would know now.
But at what cost?
The memory would remain.
So would the fight.
---
The silence that followed Caroline's final words seemed louder than any scream Ava had ever heard. The chamber around them throbbed with memories—her own, Caroline's, perhaps even the veil's itself. Ava could feel it now more than ever: the veil wasn't just a barrier or an experiment. It was alive. Ancient. Watching.
Ava rose slowly, brushing dust from her knees. Her eyes locked with Caroline's, and something passed between them—understanding, pain, and the bone-deep truth that neither of them was the same girl who had once stood on the Institute's training grounds, dreaming of saving the world.
"Where have you been?" Ava finally asked, voice brittle.
Caroline exhaled, glancing toward the shadows that coiled around the chamber. "Everywhere and nowhere. After the rupture, they locked me in a place outside of time. I broke free. But I didn't come back. I couldn't—until you opened the mirror."
Ava looked at the artifact behind her, still humming faintly like a heartbeat made of glass.
"They erased you," she whispered. "Even in the Institute records. Even in Ben's journals."
"They tried. But you remembered. Deep down."
Ava's fingers trembled as she pulled out Cassandra's journal from her satchel. She flipped through the brittle pages until she reached a half-ripped entry.
"The test was never about the veil. It was about who could survive it. Ava wasn't the first. She was just the first who came back."
Ava's mouth dried. "You were the first. Weren't you?"
Caroline nodded. "They lied to us. All of us. We were never meant to return."
The floor trembled.
Far above them, the sound of metal scraping on stone rang out like an alarm. Ezra's voice cracked through the silence on Ava's earpiece.
"Ava. You need to get out. Now. There's a containment breach. Something's—"
The signal broke. Static.
Caroline grabbed Ava's arm. "They found the mirror. And they'll kill to keep it from spreading."
Ava tightened her grip on the journal. "Then we don't run. We expose them."
Caroline's smile was grim. "You always were the brave one."
They made their way out of the mirror chamber, the walls around them warping and bleeding fragments of memories that weren't theirs. In one corner, Ava saw a version of herself holding Ben's hand. In another, she saw Ezra dying on the floor. The veil no longer hid possibilities—it was collapsing them all into a single truth.
And that truth was war.
When they reached the surface, the night had turned violent. Storm clouds rolled above the facility. Sirens howled in the distance. Fires burned in the northern fields.
Ezra met them at the entrance to the compound, face pale, rifle slung over his shoulder.
"It's started," he said.
"What?" Ava asked.
He pointed to the sky. "The veil's bleeding into this world. All those suppressed echoes—they're not staying buried anymore."
Caroline stepped forward. "They'll use it as an excuse. To silence us. To shut it all down."
Ezra gave her a wary look. "You're supposed to be dead."
"So are you."
A moment passed. Then Ezra shrugged. "Fair point."
Together, they moved toward the control hub—a tower that still stood amidst the wreckage of the facility. Inside, the walls were lined with screens and blinking consoles, all failing one by one.
Ava sat at the main terminal and plugged in the recovered journal. The system flickered, then accepted the input. Dozens of documents began to load.
Cassandra's files.
Caroline's test logs.
Even video recordings of early veil experiments—most too grotesque to keep watching.
"This will be enough," Ezra said. "Enough to burn them down."
"If we can transmit it," Ava muttered.
Caroline pointed to the far terminal. "Manual override. It'll broadcast to every encrypted channel tied to the Order. That includes whistleblowers. Underground nodes. Even the old satellites."
Ava moved fast. Her fingers danced across the controls, bypassing the biometric locks with a skill honed from years of forced training.
"Transmission in 3… 2…"
The lights went out.
The terminal died.
Darkness swallowed them.
"No," Ava breathed.
A low hum rose around them. A new light flickered—red and pulsing—from above.
Figures descended from the catwalks. Clad in black, armored, faceless.
The Order had arrived.
Caroline raised her hands, palms glowing faintly. Echoes crackled around her.
Ezra stepped in front of Ava. "We don't surrender."
"We don't," Ava agreed.
Then the world exploded into chaos.
Gunfire.
Screams.
Flashes of light as Caroline wielded the veil like a blade, sending shockwaves through the chamber. Ava ducked behind the terminal, shielding the journal with her body. Ezra fought like a man with nothing left to lose—because he didn't.
One by one, the agents fell.
But more came.
The chamber was collapsing, bits of the ceiling crashing down, console wires sparking, fire licking at the walls.
Ava screamed, "We need to finish the broadcast!"
Caroline threw her hand forward. Energy surged into the dead terminal. Sparks flew. Then—the screen lit up.
"Do it now!" she cried.
Ava hit the final key.
The files uploaded.
The signal burst out into the world.
And then the chamber exploded.
---
Light.
Pain.
Ava coughed, covered in ash and blood. She was outside, dragged clear by Ezra. Caroline was gone.
"She bought us time," Ezra murmured.
Ava looked to the sky.
Already, chatter buzzed through the channels. People had seen the truth. The world would never be the same.
She didn't cry.
She stood.
And walked forward, into the storm.
---
Honestly, I'm really happy with the number of readers of this book of mine, I'm kind of proud of it hehehheh. Honestly, it's really hot here, after exercising earlier, wearing a hijab is definitely hot, but that's impossible, right?I It's impossible for me to take off my hijab and expose my aurat, right? I'm not a saint either, I'm a person who has many faults and is trying to change.. Except for my friend, I uncovered her private parts( She opened it in class so of course I know).And I wanted to say that earlier I apologized to my ex for... the conflict that happened. Apologizing is not about who was wrong, but also because I know I also made mistakes, and for...end the dispute.