Genius Reborn as a Duke's Sickly Heir

The lab was cold and bright.

I checked the tray, the cables, the injector. Everything was where it belonged.

The chip sat in its cradle, no bigger than a dime. Silver. Quiet. Mine.

Evan pushed through the door with his cap crooked and rain on his shoulders.

He set a hand on the monitor and glanced at me. "We can wait."

I peeled a strip of tape from the roll. "We've run enough sims."

He nudged the crash cart closer with his shoe. "Once more."

I shook my head and straightened the chin strap on the chair. "Same answer."

He let out a breath and pulled on fresh gloves. "All right. We go step by step."

I settled into the chair. The leather felt stiff.

He cleaned the temple port and checked the leads. "Any dizziness?"

"No."

He lowered the rig until the cradle lined up. "You sure about the name?"

"Yeah."

a flat, small voice said in my head.

The baseline on the monitor steadied.

I swallowed and kept my jaw loose. "Can you hear me?"

Evan leaned toward the speakers. "Already responding?"

"Already working."

I didn't want anything grand or cute. "Echo."

Evan adjusted the gain a notch. "Don't get attached."

"Too late."

I rested two fingers on the armrest. "I consent for tonight's protocol."

Rain ticked against the window. The room smelled like a hospital and rubber.

Evan brought up the control panel. "Stim one."

"Go."

He turned the dial a hair. "Stim two."

Heat pricked along my cheekbone. "Still fine."

Evan tapped the cable and watched the line. "Clearing."

The noise dropped.

He nodded once. "Stim three."

My chest tightened. I kept my breathing even. "Pause?"

Evan eased the dial back. "Paused."

The pressure eased.

He studied the cortical map. "We're a degree off."

"Do not rewrite the profile."

He hesitated, then dragged one node a fraction anyway.

"Reset," I said.

He wet his lips. "It's small."

"Reset."

He clicked twice. "Reset."

We listened to the fan.

He straightened and squared his shoulders. "Again. Stim three."

I pressed my palms flat to stop a tremor. "Run it."

The baseline jumped. My vision narrowed.

Evan reached for the stop. "Abort."

I tried to move but couldn't.

His chair scraped. He tore the tape free and started compressions on me.

Air came short and thin. "Trying." He said.

Sound dropped away from me. The lights in the room felt far.

Evan's voice thinned in fear. "Stay with me, Ash."

My fingers numbed, then the rest of me followed.

I stared at the ceiling tiles and picked one to hold on to. "Echo, please stay with me."

Silence. No hum. No vent. Nothing.

When my thoughts returned, they came in pieces.

Echo said, faint but clear.

I breathed out without lungs. Based on a habit.

Time had no markers where I was. Wherever I was. We kept going until a pull appeared.

The pull grew steady. Not violent. Just firm enough.

A second presence stirred at the edge of my consciousness. Young.

It paused when it noticed me, then spoke. "Who's there?"

I answered in the same tone. "Ash."

A beat passed. "So am I."

"Then we have a problem." I said.

The presence steadied for a fraction before asking. "Are you a demon?"

"No."

"A spirit?"

"No."

"What are you?"

"Human," I said. "Or I was."

Echo said.

I reached toward the presence without pushing. "I think we can keep each other alive."

"How?" The voice was tight but not hostile.

"We share your body. This way neither of us gets erased."

The presence drew back, then returned. "Swear it."

"I swear."

"And she?"

Echo said.

The presence thought about that. "I consent."

"I consent," I said.

Pressure built around me. Not pain. Weight.

Heat returned at first. Then gravity. Then breath.

I kept still.

A bed pressed into my back. The blanket felt scratchy.

The air smelled like smoke and tallow, not like a hospital anymore.

I opened my eyes.

A white plaster ceiling. Dark wooden beams crossing it.

An oil lamp burned under glass. It needed a trim.

A small window with leaded panes. Moonlight painted squares on the floor through it.

I swallowed, but my throat ached.

I turned my head an inch. The pillow felt lumpy and heavy.

The room was plain. A carved dresser. A Peg on the wall with a thick coat. A wooden chair with a cushion that had seen better days.

No AC noise. No street traffic. The only noise around me was the lamp and my breathing.

My pulse began racing in my ears. I lay there and counted it, until it stopped racing.

Then I heard a noise. A floorboard creaking beyond the door.

Vera said, softer.

I didn't move.

I heard nothing for a second. Then another quiet step.

The latch clicked.

I watched the doorway and waited to learn what plans life had for me.