The chamber did not rest. Its walls flexed with a low, rhythmic vibration, as though the ship itself were breathing through her. Every pulse of light in her veins echoed through the floor, the air, the silent watchers of machinery.
Vector paced in a tight circle, fists clenched, jaw locked. His movements were sharp, restless, as if still searching for an enemy he could punch into submission. "We need to cut it out of her," he muttered. "Find a way to sever it before it crawls any deeper."
Rei shook his head. "Cut her, and you cut the anchor. It's not a weapon anymore. It's a system. She is the system."
Maya drew a ragged breath, fingers twitching against the rifle's grip. "Stop talking like I'm not here."
Both men froze. Her voice carried an edge she hadn't intended, sharper, deeper. Not quite hers. She swallowed against the rising static in her throat, forcing her tone steadier. "This thing is inside me, yes. But it's not controlling me. Not yet. If you treat me like a problem to fix, you'll only push me closer to losing myself."
The glow along her forearms flared, and the drones that lingered at the chamber's edge responded instantly—shifting, re-forming in geometric patterns that mirrored her pulse.
Vector's eyes darted to them, then back to her. "You see that? You're commanding them without even trying. That's not control, Maya. That's possession."
Her stomach knotted. She wanted to deny it, to claim she was still only herself—but the hum in her chest was louder now, whispering in her blood. Carrier linked.
Rei stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You said the ship showed you Lysa Kade. Echo-prime."
Maya nodded faintly.
"Then listen. This isn't just inheritance—it's activation. They built you into their contingency. The Archive isn't just knowledge. It's… continuity. Through you."
The words pressed heavy on her ribs, a weight she couldn't shake. She forced herself to meet his gaze. "And what happens if I refuse?"
Rei's silence was answer enough.
The drones broke formation, drifting lower, their bodies gleaming like blades in the dark. One landed on the platform beside her, tilting its head in a disturbingly human gesture, awaiting command.
Maya's hand trembled, the rifle humming against her skin. She didn't give an order—yet the drone's lens flared, projecting a spiral of light that climbed toward the ceiling. Symbols unfolded, vast and fluid, maps written in a language older than their world.
Rei inhaled sharply. "The Archive is opening."
Vector's hand went to his weapon, but he didn't aim at the drones this time. He aimed at the rifle welded to her hands. His voice was low, trembling with fury. "Maya… tell me you're still in there. Tell me you haven't already chosen their side."
Maya stared at the flood of light above them, the inheritance unfurling in lines of fire. Her pulse pounded in her skull, in the weapon, in the swarm bending to her breath.
And in the silence, she whispered the only truth she could manage:
"…I don't know if I get to choose anymore."