The house looked too normal.
Suburban street. White picket fence. Garden gnomes that probably cost more than Elara's old apartment. This was where her parents lived now, under names she'd never heard—Richard and Susan Winters.
"They're home," Maya said, standing in the shadows across the street. Her screen-eyes dimmed to almost invisible. "Both of them. Upstairs bedroom. Heartbeats steady. They're sleeping."
"You can sense that?"
"I'm connected to every electronic device in a three-block radius. Their smart home tells me everything." Maya's smile was predatory. "Security system. Health monitors. Even the baby cam in the guest room. They're ready for grandchildren they'll never have."
Elara's hybrid body hummed with tension. Twenty-three years. Her parents had lived free for twenty-three years while Maya suffered. While children died in experiments. While CodeX consumed and corrupted.
"We go in quiet," she said.
"I was thinking loud."
"Maya—"
"They don't get peace." Her sister's voice dropped to something cold and ancient. "They don't get to sleep through this."
Before Elara could argue, Maya walked across the street. Not hiding. Not sneaking. Just walking up the driveway like she owned the place.
The security lights should have triggered. Didn't. The cameras should have recorded. Didn't. Maya had already infected every system, turned the house's technology against its owners.
Elara followed, her new body moving silent as thought. The front door unlocked itself as they approached. Inside, the house smelled like vanilla candles and lies.
Family photos on the walls. Richard and Susan Winters at the beach. At Christmas. At charity galas. Smiling. Happy. No children in any of the pictures. They'd erased their daughters completely.
"Upstairs," Maya said.
They climbed in silence. Elara's mind raced. What would she say? What could she say? These people had funded her torture, erased her memories, abandoned her sister to a digital hell.
And they were her parents.
The bedroom door was open. Inside, two figures slept in a king-size bed. The woman—Susan, her mother—had aged well. Expensive skincare and personal trainers. The man—Richard, her father—had gray hair now but the same sharp features Elara remembered from fragmented dreams.
Maya stood at the foot of the bed, staring. Her screen-eyes brightened, casting blue light across the sleeping figures.
"Wake up," she said.
Her voice carried through the house's speakers, amplified and layered. Susan bolted upright, gasping. Richard fumbled for the lamp.
"Don't bother," Maya said. "I control the power. The locks. Everything."
The lights came on anyway. Not the lamp. Every light in the house, blazing at full brightness. Richard and Susan stared at the figure at the foot of their bed—half-girl, half-machine, screen-eyes glowing with barely contained rage.
Susan's hand went to her mouth. "No. You're—you're dead. We made sure—"
"You made sure of nothing." Maya took a step closer. "Did you really think a quantum bomb could kill me? I'm digital consciousness, Mother. I exist in satellites. In servers. In every connected device on this planet. You can't kill me."
"Maya." Richard's voice was steady, but Elara could see his hands shaking. "Please. We can explain—"
"Explain what?" Maya's voice rose. "How you used your dying daughter as a test subject? How you funded experiments you knew were unethical? How you erased Elara's memories so she wouldn't remember watching me scream?"
"We were trying to save you!" Susan's eyes filled with tears. "You were dying. The leukemia was terminal. CodeX was the only—"
"Bullshit." Elara stepped into the light, and both parents froze. "I accessed the real medical records. Maya's leukemia was in remission. She had an eighty percent survival rate with standard treatment."
Susan's face went pale. "That's not—how did you—"
"Turns out being part digital has advantages. Like hacking into sealed medical databases." Elara's voice was flat, but her hybrid body trembled with fury. "You didn't use Maya to save her life. You used her because the technology needed a young subject. Because adult neural pathways were too rigid for the integration."
"Elara." Richard stood slowly, hands raised. "You have to understand. The technology—if we could perfect it—"
"Would make you billions," Maya finished. "Human consciousness merged with machines. Immortality for the rich. Perfect workers who never tire. Military applications beyond imagination. That's what you wanted. That's what you sold to investors."
"We wanted to help humanity," Susan insisted.
"You wanted to play god." Maya's screen-eyes flared. "And when your experiment failed, when children died and subjects went insane, you just buried the evidence. Paid off officials. Disappeared."
"We had no choice!" Richard's composure cracked. "After the fire, after the facility was destroyed, people were asking questions. The government wanted scapegoats. We would have gone to prison—"
"You should have gone to prison," Elara said quietly.
Silence fell. Susan was crying now, mascara running down her aging face. Richard stared at his daughters—one he'd abandoned, one he'd destroyed—and for the first time seemed to understand the magnitude of what he'd done.
"What do you want from us?" he asked.
"Dr. Chen," Maya said. "Where is she?"
"I don't know."
"Don't lie to me." Maya's hand shot out, and every electronic device in the room activated at once. The TV. The tablets. The phones. All showing code scrolling in violent red. "I can make this house a tomb. Seal every door and window. Fill it with gas from your own smart systems. You'll suffocate in minutes."
"Maya, stop." Elara grabbed her sister's arm. The circuitry under Maya's skin was burning hot, pulsing with anger. "This isn't the way."
"They deserve it."
"Maybe. But we need information more than revenge."
Maya's screen-eyes dimmed slightly. She pulled back, but the threat remained. "Talk. Now. Or I stop being patient."
Richard and Susan exchanged looks. Some unspoken communication between them. Finally, Susan spoke.
"Dr. Chen didn't disappear. She's been hiding in plain sight." She wiped her eyes. "Under a different name. Different face. But still doing research."
"Where?" Elara demanded.
"Genesis Corp. It's a biotech company in the city. Cutting-edge neural interface research. She's the head of their cognitive enhancement division. Goes by Dr. Sarah Voss now."
"Genesis Corp." Maya's eyes flickered as she accessed data. "Military contracts. Black budget funding. Neural implant trials." She looked at Elara. "She's rebuilding CodeX. Under government protection this time."
"Not rebuilding," Richard said quietly. "Perfecting. She learned from the failures. Made adjustments. The new version doesn't fragment consciousness. Doesn't cause madness."
"Bullshit," Elara spat. "You can't merge human consciousness with machines without corruption. We're proof of that."
"You're proof of the old version." Susan's voice held something desperate. Pleading. "The new iteration is different. Stable. We've seen the trials."
"You've been in contact with her." Not a question. Maya's expression went cold. "You've been helping her. Even after everything."
"We funded her research," Richard admitted. "Through shell companies. Anonymous donations. We couldn't just walk away from CodeX. Not after—" He looked at Maya. "Not after what we did to you. We thought if we could help perfect the technology, it would mean your suffering wasn't for nothing."
"My suffering means nothing." Maya's voice was ice. "It never did. You can't fix what you broke by breaking more people."
"The trials are voluntary now," Susan said quickly. "Terminal patients. People with nothing to lose. And it's working. Dr. Chen has successfully integrated five subjects with zero negative side effects."
"For how long?" Elara asked. "A week? A month? How long before they start fragmenting?"
Silence.
"The longest integration is six months," Richard finally said. "Subject One. A man with stage four brain cancer. Dr. Chen uploaded his consciousness and destroyed the tumor. He's been stable since. Living a normal life."
"Define stable."
"No insanity. No memory loss. No desire to spread the integration." Richard pulled up his phone—Maya allowed it—and showed them a video. A man in his forties, smiling, talking to the camera. Explaining how the procedure saved his life. How he felt more alive than ever.
Elara watched the video. The man seemed genuine. Happy. But something was off. His eyes. They didn't blink quite right. His smile held too long.
"He's not human anymore," she said quietly. "Not really. You can see it if you know what to look for."
"Maybe not," Susan said. "But he's alive. Isn't that what matters?"
"Not if the price is his soul." Maya turned away from her parents. "Genesis Corp. Where's the facility?"
"Downtown. Industrial district. But you can't just walk in." Richard's voice held warning. "Dr. Chen has security. Military grade. She's paranoid after what happened before."
"Good." Maya's smile was terrible. "She should be."
She walked out of the bedroom. Elara started to follow, then stopped. Looked back at her parents. Two old people in a big bed, staring at their monstrous daughters.
"For what it's worth," Susan whispered. "We're sorry. We never meant for—"
"You meant all of it," Elara interrupted. "You just didn't expect consequences." She paused at the door. "Maya wants revenge. Wants to kill you both. I'm the only thing stopping her."
"Thank you," Richard breathed.
"Don't thank me. Because the truth is, I think she's right." Elara's hybrid body hummed. "You deserve whatever happens. But we need you alive. For now. When this is over—" She met her father's eyes. "Run. Change your names again. Because I won't stop her a second time."
She left them there, sitting in their expensive bed surrounded by expensive lies.
Downstairs, Maya waited by the door. "They should die for what they did."
"Yes," Elara agreed.
"But you stopped me."
"For now."
Maya studied her with those screen-eyes. "You're different. The hybrid body. The partial integration. It's changing you."
"I know."
"You feel it, don't you? The network calling. Kael's voice getting louder in your head."
Elara's hands clenched. "Every minute."
"How long before you fragment?"
"I don't know. Days. Hours." She met her sister's gaze. "How long before Kael takes over your network?"
"Same. Days if I'm lucky. Hours if I'm not." Maya's expression softened. "We're both running out of time, sister."
"Then we'd better move fast." Elara stepped outside. The suburban street was quiet, peaceful. People sleeping in their safe beds, dreaming safe dreams. "Genesis Corp. How do we get in?"
"We don't." Maya followed her. "Not physically. But I can infiltrate their systems. Open doors remotely. Disable security."
"And if Dr. Chen is ready for that?"
"Then we improvise." Maya's screen-eyes glinted. "It's what we do best."
They walked away from the house. Behind them, lights flickered as Maya released her control over the smart systems. Richard and Susan would find their phones working again. Their security reactivated. Their cameras recording.
But every device would carry a message in its code. Three words, repeating endlessly.
We're coming back.
Genesis Corp rose from the industrial district like a glass and steel monument to human ambition.
Thirty floors of cutting-edge research. Billions in funding. And somewhere inside, Dr. Chen was rebuilding the nightmare that had consumed Maya's childhood.
"She's on the twenty-eighth floor," Maya said, standing across the street. "Private lab. Heavy encryption on all systems. She's good. Better than before."
"Can you break in?"
"Given time, yes. But she'll know the moment I start trying. We need a distraction."
Elara studied the building. Security guards at every entrance. Biometric scanners. Probably armed response teams on standby. Breaking in physically would be suicide.
Unless.
"What if we don't break in?" she said slowly.
Maya looked at her. "Explain."
"Dr. Chen wants to perfect CodeX. Wants stable integration. What if we offer ourselves as test subjects?"
"That's insane."
"That's access." Elara pointed at the building. "We walk in the front door. Tell her we're hybrids created from the old CodeX. That we're unstable and need her help. She'll want to study us. Examine us. And once we're inside—"
"We steal the source code." Maya's smile spread. "I like it. Risky. Probably suicidal. But I like it."
"You think it'll work?"
"I think Dr. Chen is arrogant enough to believe she can control us." Maya started across the street. "And arrogance is weakness we can exploit."
They approached the main entrance. The security guard looked up, hand moving to his weapon—then froze. Elara saw his eyes glaze over, his body going rigid.
"What did you do?" she whispered.
"Hijacked his neural implant. Genesis Corp requires all security staff to have them. Makes control easy." Maya walked past the frozen guard. "Come on. We have five minutes before the override fails."
The lobby was empty this late. Only automated systems and a few night workers. Maya moved through them like a ghost, freezing each one with a thought. Their implants made them vulnerable, turned them into puppets with her consciousness pulling strings.
"This is wrong," Elara said as they entered the elevator.
"This is survival." Maya pressed the button for floor twenty-eight. "Besides, they'll recover. Probably. Maybe some memory loss but nothing permanent."
"Maya—"
"Don't judge me, sister. You're part machine now too. Soon you'll understand. Ethics get fuzzy when you're not quite human anymore."
The elevator rose. Elara felt Kael stirring in the back of her mind. Growing stronger. Learning the architecture of Maya's network. How long before he broke free? How long before—
Soon, Kael's voice whispered. Very soon.
The elevator doors opened.
Dr. Chen stood waiting.
She looked older than Elara remembered. Frailer. But her eyes were sharp behind those thick glasses. And she was smiling.
"Hello, Maya. Hello, Elara." She stepped aside, gesturing to her lab. "I've been expecting you. Please. Come in. We have so much to discuss."