Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 144277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 721(@200wpm)___ 577(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 721(@200wpm)___ 577(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Deeper.
More personal.
I don’t know.
I feel… stupid.
But it’s more than that. It’s not just about feeling stupid for not realizing the maids were probably snickering behind my back as they fed me fake garbage—knowing I couldn’t yet tell the difference between what was true and what wasn’t.
It’s about being played the fool.
And the double-dose of truth I got today.
Veyra, pointing to the empty space where Lilika should’ve been, but wasn’t: You’re gonna end up just like her, you know.
That’s when it hits.
That creeping, sinking feeling.
That sense of…
It’s too good to be true.
35 - FINN
The hallway is gold and white.
Ornate.
Quiet.
I hear everything.
Door click.
Vent hum.
Footfall pattern shift near corridor junction C4.
AUDITORY SYSTEM: range +210%.
Sympathetic vibration detection: functional.
Echo cancellation engaged.
VOICE RECOGNITION: ambient inputs muted.
Focused filter: Jasina.
HEARING: stable.
Step.
Step.
My body walks the path before I think about it.
My thoughts trail behind.
MUSCULOSKELETAL SYSTEM: restructuring 84% complete.
Myofibril density: +340%.
Tendon elasticity: increased.
Joint integrity: stable.
Fast-twitch ratio: optimized.
A breeze hits my cheek as the ventilation cycles.
DERMAL SENSORS: active.
Pore function: suppressed.
Temperature regulation: internal modulation active.
Hair follicle replication: paused.
Facial hair growth: suppressed at root.
I see a light flicker overhead.
My head tilts 7 degrees.
Instinct.
VISUAL FIELD: 360° mapping functional.
Luminance tolerance: maximum.
Color depth: expanded.
Motion prediction: enabled.
A woman speaks two doors down.
The words don’t register.
Just the sound map.
COGNITIVE FILTERS: language parsing disabled.
Emotional tethering: suspended.
Response protocol: none.
The floor shifts beneath me.
Elevation ramp.
BALANCE SYSTEMS: gyroscopic alignment functional.
Spinal buffer: reinforced.
Knee torsion capacity: +70%.
Hip rotation mod: cleared.
I blink once.
OCULAR SYSTEMS: LED iris stabilized.
Retinal overlay: spark frequency mapping enabled.
Night vision: default ON.
Target lock: dormant.
The memory hits me in static.
The fight.
Joreth’s eyes, just before I ended him.
NEURAL FLAG: First kill recorded.
Adrenaline spike: 0.6s delay. Dissipated.
Post-trauma response: absent.
Moral checksum: bypassed.
Memory log: visual only.
Subject: Joreth.
Status: deceased.
Source link: unknown.
I don’t feel anything.
NEURAL ACTIVITY: dream-state suppression 100%.
REM cycles blocked.
Memory isolation: active.
Conscience loop: offline.
Moral inhibitors: dormant.
Aggression threshold: rising.
I hear the door to our suite unlock before I see it.
HEART RATE: steady.
Sync mode: pending.
CIRCULATORY ADAPTATIONS: pressure variance stabilized.
Oxygen saturation: 99.8%.
Blood volume: increased.
I place my hand on the door.
TACTILE UPGRADE: fine motor mapping at 98%.
Response latency: 0.0014s.
Spark contact threshold: neutral.
Emotional reflex: suppressed.
The display across my vision flashes a soft blue.
CURRENT STAGE: 6.
COMBAT SCENARIO EVALUATION: complete.
Joreth: neutralized.
Score: 94.7% efficiency.
RECOMMENDATION: push Stage 6 early.
I don’t agree or disagree.
I don’t think at all.
Just step inside the room.
The lights adjust.
I hear her voice.
I see her stand.
EMPATHY LOOP: quiet.
Bond reinforcement: queued.
Desire simulation: optional.
Partner protocol: active.
I walk past her, data scrolling down my field of vision like a glowing blue waterfall, step into the bathroom, and close the door.
The water is hot.
Too hot.
My skin adjusts before the sensation registers.
DERMAL RESPONSE: thermal adaptation engaged.
Skin integrity: stable.
Subdermal flex lines: reinforced.
Contaminant trace detected: foreign blood.
Location: fingernails, right hand.
Analysis: type mismatch. Non-self.
Biological origin: human.
Subject match: probable – Joreth.
Cleaning protocol: auto-initiate.
Sterile field: achieved.
I scrub without thinking.
Watch the water spiral down the drain.
A moment passes. Or maybe many.
My head is tilted under the stream.
No thoughts come.
No feelings follow.
The room is dark.
The sheets are cool.
She’s there. I hear her breathing.
PARTNER LOCATION: confirmed.
Temperature sync: passive.
Pulse rhythm: logged.
Emotional frequency: unreadable.
INTERFACE PRIORITY: rest cycle.
I lie back.
No words.
No touch.
No thought.
SLEEP MODE: authorized.
REM bypass: engaged.
Augmentation stabilization: ongoing.
Stage 6 prep: queued.
Darkness folds in.
I disappear into it.
Whole.
Empty.
Waiting.
I wake up reaching for Jasina. Her warm body melds into mine perfectly as I slide an arm underneath her back and pull her close. “Are you awake?” I ask, hoping she is because I’ve got some serious morning wood.
“Mmmhmmm,” she hums.
Which is a ‘no’ when it comes to Jasina. She’s a lazy sleeper. But I like it. Waking her up with soft caresses is definitely my favorite part of the day. “I’ll let you go back to sleep if you want,” I tease, whispering these words right up against her ear.
She turns, pointing her face up at me, trying to open her eyes, but only marginally succeeding. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I say back.
“I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve been here every morning.”
“No,” she says with a chuckle, turning her body so we’re face to face. “I mean, at night. You’re so… tired. What does he do to you all day that you get so tired?”
“Do to me?” I shrug. Mostly because I don’t recall. “I’m asleep for the procedures.”
She sits up a little. “You sleep all day and come home that tired? How’s that work?”
Again, I shrug. “Well… I’m asleep, so…” Yeah, she’s kinda right. Why am I so tired? “I only vaguely remember coming home each night. I guess it’s the augmentation. And I don’t think that being unconscious on a threading table counts as sleep.’”
She places a hand on my cheek, her eyes narrowing.
“What?” I ask.
“There’s something on your pupils.”
“What?” Then I understand. “Oh, that. That’s just the data display Xi augmented me with.”
“What’s a data display?”
“It’s like… a screen. Over my eyes. With lots of switches that I can control by…” I blow out a breath. I don’t really know how to describe it. And no one described it to me, I just kinda… knew what to do when I woke up on the third day and found all this code splashed across my vision. “It’s just internal mechanisms,” I say. “Blinking, and a head nod here, an eye swipe there. Just gestures like that.”