The ruins burned behind us as Lira led her group deeper into the skeletal remains of the city.
I followed in silence, my heavy footsteps echoing against the cracked asphalt. Every time I moved, I could feel the others' eyes on me, their fingers twitching near their triggers.
I couldn't blame them. I wasn't sure I trusted myself either.
We descended into what looked like an old subway entrance, rusted gates torn aside. Inside, the tunnels were lit with scavenged lamps and humming power cells. It wasn't much, but compared to the wasteland above, it felt almost… alive.
The rebels spread out, unloading their gear, checking weapons. Lira remained near me, her rifle slung but never far from reach.
"You said you were human," she began. "That true, or some Authority trick?"
I hesitated. "My name is Dr. Kieran Vale. I worked on the Quantum Bridge Project… or at least, I did. But when I woke up, I was in this." I lifted my chrome hand, its servos whirring. "I don't know how long it's been."
At the mention of the Bridge, her eyes narrowed. "That name… it's a curse. People say it broke the world. You expect me to believe you built it?"
Before I could answer, my vision fractured. A ripple of static tore through my sight, and suddenly the tunnel dissolved into darkness.
And in that darkness—
I wasn't alone.
A voice, layered and cold, whispered from inside my head:
"Kieran Vale. Scientist. Visionary. Failure. Do you think this body is yours? It remembers what you refuse to."
Images slammed into me.
Flashes of battles in ruined streets. My metal hands crushing throats. A city burning while soldiers screamed my designation: Subject-09.
"No," I rasped aloud, clutching my head. Sparks hissed from my fingertips. "That wasn't me."
Lira's voice cut through the haze. "What's wrong with it?"
I dropped to one knee, fighting the flood of alien memories. But the voice only grew louder, mocking:
"You think you're human. You think you're Kieran. But you are nothing more than code draped over metal. Let me drive. I can show you what we were made for."
"No!" I roared, slamming my fist into the ground. Concrete cracked beneath my blow, dust rising.
When I looked up, every rebel had their weapon aimed at me.
Lira's finger tightened on the trigger. And yet, there was no fear in her eyes—only calculation.
"You're fighting something inside, aren't you?" she asked quietly.
My optics flickered, stabilizing. I forced the words out: "It's not just me in here. There's… a ghost in the machine."
For a long moment, silence.
Then Lira lowered her rifle.
"Good. That means you're dangerous," she said. "And dangerous is exactly what we need."