The Reflection Chamber was Eclipse Academy's idea of psychological warfare disguised as therapy. Four walls of seamless mirrors, soft lighting that somehow made you look both angelic and guilty, and a sound system that played ambient music at a frequency scientifically proven to make people confess their deepest secrets.
Alex hated it.
"Sit," Lila said, pointing to one of two chairs in the center. She closed the door behind them with a soft click that felt impossibly loud.
Alex sat. In the mirrors, a thousand versions of himself sat too—all looking equally nervous, all trapped in an infinite reflection of poor life choices.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: High-stress environment detected. Recommend Downloaded Skill: Advanced Lying Level 3. Warning: Using deception on teammate may result in relationship damage. Proceed? Y/N]
He mentally slapped "N" so hard his vision flickered.
Lila remained standing, arms crossed, her reflection multiplying into an army of disappointed snipers. "Do you know why we're here?"
"Because Mia accused me of tampering with her bot?" Alex tried for casual and landed somewhere near 'guilty ferret.'
"Because you've been lying to me." Lila's voice was quiet, controlled—which was somehow worse than if she'd yelled. "To all of us. For weeks."
Alex's stomach dropped. "Lila, I—"
"The Seoul mission. You suddenly knew advanced hand-to-hand combat. The simulator heist—you hacked a system that should've taken hours in under three minutes. Last week's training exercise, you spoke fluent Russian despite failing basic language classes." She ticked them off on her fingers, each point landing like a sniper shot. "And yesterday, Mia's surveillance bot malfunctioned during your practice session. When she checked the logs, someone had accessed its command codes using techniques that don't exist in any academy database."
In the mirrors, all the Alexes looked caught.
[SYSTEM ALERT: Cover story compromised. Calculating optimal response... Error: No good options available. Recommendation: Tell the truth, you coward.]
"How long have you known?" Alex asked quietly.
"I started suspecting after Seoul. I've been certain for a week." Lila finally sat, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. "Alex, I don't care if you've been secretly training or found some advanced learning method. What I care about is that you didn't trust me enough to tell me."
The hurt in her voice cracked something in his chest.
"It's not about trust," Alex said desperately. "Lila, you're the person I trust most. It's just—" He gestured helplessly at the infinite reflections. "If I tell you, it changes everything. And I don't know how."
"Try me."
Alex looked at the mirrors—at all the versions of himself, all the futures branching from this moment. In some reflections, he stayed silent and lost her. In others, he spoke and lost her anyway. But in a few, a very few, honesty opened a door instead of closing it.
[SYSTEM PROMPT: Quest Available! "Leap of Faith" - Reveal your secret to Lila Sato. Reward: +50 Trust Points, Relationship upgrade possible. Risk: Rejection, squad dissolution, potential academy expulsion. Accept? Y/N]
"I have a neural implant," Alex blurted out before he could overthink it. "A mad scientist installed it in my brain, and now I can download skills from the internet directly into my head. That's how I learned combat and hacking and languages. There's also a system—like a video game interface—that only I can see. It gives me quests and rewards and won't shut up with commentary."
Silence. The ambient music seemed to swell, mocking.
Lila blinked. "A... neural implant."
"From Dr. Zorba. The academy scientist everyone calls crazy. I kind of broke into his lab, and there was an accident, and now I have superpowers but also a really annoying AI living in my brain." The words tumbled out faster. "It downloads information from databases and websites. I can learn skills instantly, but I don't always control what it learns or when. And sometimes it gives me really weird quests like 'impress the girl' or 'betray your friend for bonus points' and I don't do those, obviously, but—"
"Breathe," Lila interrupted.
Alex breathed. The mirrors showed a thousand panicking teenagers gulping air.
"So when Mia's bot glitched," Lila said slowly, "your implant accessed it?"
"I was trying to figure out why it kept following me! The system just... did it.
Without asking. I've been trying to control it, but sometimes it acts on its own, and I know that sounds insane—"
"It sounds dangerous." Lila stood, pacing. Her reflections moved in synchronized concern. "Alex, do you realize what this means? You have unregulated neural technology. If the academy finds out—"
"They'll dissect me. Or expel me. Or both." Alex slumped in his chair. "That's why I didn't say anything. My parents don't even know the full extent. Nobody does. Except now you."
"And Zorba."
"He's the one who made it. He said the academy shut down his neural research years ago, called him crazy. But the implant works, Lila. Really works. I went from barely passing combat to keeping up with you. I can help the squad. I can actually be useful instead of the talentless Thorne who everyone expects to fail."
The words hung in the mirrored air, more honest than he'd intended.
Lila stopped pacing and turned to face him. "Is that what you think? That you're only useful because of the implant?"
"I'm only competent because of it."
"That's bullshit." Her bluntness made him look up. "Alex, you coordinated our entire Seoul extraction. The implant gave you skills, fine, but you made the tactical decisions. You kept the team together. That's not downloadable."
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: +15 Emotional Support received. Morale increased. Warning: Do not cry in front of crush. Crying success rate in romantic contexts: 12%.]
"Your brain computer just told you not to cry, didn't it?" Lila asked, a tiny smile cracking through.
"How did you—"
"You get this blank look when it's talking to you. Like you're reading something only you can see." She sat back down, closer this time. "Show me. How does it work?"
Alex hesitated, then focused on his interface. "Okay, um, right now it's displaying your vital signs—which feels invasive, sorry—and a tactical assessment of the room. It's also suggesting I use 'Advanced Apology Techniques Level 2' to de-escalate the situation."
"Tell it you're doing fine without its help."
"I did. It said my success rate for apologies is 34% and that I need all the help I can get."
Lila actually laughed—a short, surprised sound that made all the mirror-Lilas smile.
"Your implant is kind of a jerk."
"It really is." Alex felt the tension ease slightly. "Look, I know this is weird and probably concerning and definitely against academy protocols—"
"Definitely."
"—but I promise I'm not trying to hurt anyone. I just want to be good enough. To not be the weak link." He met her eyes, seeing a thousand reflected versions of this moment. "And I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. You deserved to know."
Lila was quiet for a long moment, her expression cycling through emotions Alex's implant tried and failed to categorize. Finally, she leaned back and crossed her arms.
"Okay. Here's what's going to happen. One, you're going to tell Mia and Jax. If we're a squad, we handle this together."
"Lila—"
"Two," she continued over his protest, "you're going to let me help you figure out the implant's limits. What it can and can't do, what's safe, what's risky. We do this smart."
"And three?" Alex asked, almost afraid of the answer.
"Three, you stop thinking you're only valuable because of some tech in your skull. You were my friend before the implant, and you're my friend after. Got it?"
The relief was so overwhelming Alex's implant probably registered it as a medical event.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Quest "Leap of Faith" completed! Reward: +50 Trust Points, Relationship status updated: "Trusted Teammate/Possible Romantic Interest." Achievement unlocked: "Honest Communication (Rare)."]
"It just updated your status to 'possible romantic interest,'" Alex said before his brain caught up to his mouth.
Lila's eyebrows rose. "Did it now."
"I didn't—I mean, it just—that's not why I—" Alex wanted the mirrors to swallow him.
"Relax, Thorne." But her cheeks had the faintest pink tint. "Let's deal with the illegal neural implant before we worry about whatever your brain computer ships."
"Ships?"
"Mia's been teaching me internet slang. I'm very hip now."
"Please never say that again."
The door burst open with a BANG that made both of them jump. Jax filled the doorway, grinning like he'd won the lottery. "THERE you guys are! I've been looking everywhere!
Mia said you were having a 'serious talk' but it's been like an hour and—" He paused, looking between them. "Wait, why do you both look like you've been crying and/or confessing feelings?"
"We haven't been crying," Lila said quickly.
"I told her about the implant," Alex admitted.
Jax's eyes went wide. "The brain thing?
Dude! Does this mean we can talk about it now? Because I have SO many questions! Can you download muscles? Have you tried learning to cook? Can it teach you my sick pun skills?"
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: New squad member added to shared secret. Trust network expanding. Warning: Jax Rodriguez's question about "sick pun skills" cannot be answered without causing system damage.]
"Your implant just insulted my puns, didn't it?" Jax accused.
"It said answering would cause system damage."
"RUDE!"
Lila stood, shaking her head but smiling. "Come on. We need to find Mia and have a proper squad meeting. No more secrets."
As they left the Reflection Chamber, Alex caught one last look at the mirrors. The infinite reflections showed something new: not a thousand trapped, anxious versions of himself, but three friends walking together toward an uncertain future.
[SYSTEM UPDATE: Social bonds strengthened. Team cohesion at 85%. Warning: Increased trust means increased vulnerability. Proceed with caution... but also, good job, you disaster.]
"Thanks, brain," Alex muttered.
"What'd it say?" Lila asked.
"That I'm a disaster. But a disaster who did good."
"Accurate," Jax agreed cheerfully, slinging an arm around Alex's shoulders. "Now let's go blow Mia's mind with illegal brain surgery stories!"
"It wasn't surgery, it was an accident—"
"EVEN BETTER!"
As they headed toward the dorms, Alex felt lighter than he had in weeks. The secret was out—at least to the people who mattered most. Whatever came next, he wouldn't face it alone.
Even if "what came next" involved explaining to Mia why her surveillance bot had mysteriously hacked itself.
That conversation was going to be interesting.