A door above slammed open. Wood groaned. Dust sifted from the ceiling.
Lara yanked Kaven up by the sleeve. "We need to move."
But his eyes were still locked on the console, on the black screen that had just revealed her past like a slap to the soul.
"You were Juliette Strand. The Juliette Strand," he whispered.
"No," she said too quickly. "I am Lara."
A shadow crossed the stairwell entrance.
Then a voice, sharp and deliberate:
> "Protocol breach confirmed. Extraction team en route."
Kaven pulled her toward the rear exit. "Forget the pod. We're out of time."
But Lara's eyes darted to it—sealed, pulsing faintly with a soft internal glow.
Her past, archived like a file in a drawer.
Did she really want to know?
She reached for it—then stopped.
The screen flickered again.
Another video.
Not security footage this time.
A test chamber. White walls. Harsh light.
A girl sat in a reclined chair. Wires running from her temples. Barely older than sixteen. Pale. Eyes glassy.
> "Subject Twelve stable. Initiating alignment phase."
And next to the technician—Lara. Or Juliette. In a lab coat, holding a tablet.
> "Begin synchronization," she said. Calm. Clinical. Like it wasn't a person in that chair. Like it was just hardware.
The footage cut out with a digital pop.
Lara reeled back. "No. No, that's not who I am."
Kaven's face had gone pale. "You were experimenting on people like you."
"No—I didn't know. I don't remember—!"
A shout echoed from above. Closer. Angry.
Boots stomped the top step.
Kaven snatched the pod.
"We take it. If that's your past, we're not leaving it for them."
The stairwell groaned.
Then the door burst open.
A woman stepped through, sleek rifle in hand, eyes scanning fast.
Not a guard.
Not a scavenger.
Juliette.
Another Juliette.
Older. Colder. Wearing the exact same face as Lara.
She looked at them like a mirror too tired to explain itself.
"I warned you," she said.
And opened fire.
---
End of Chapter 24