The air turned to glass.
Every breath I took cut through my throat like shards. The atmosphere had thickened, dense with the threat of violence and unspoken dread. The lab's usual hum of quiet machinery faded into an oppressive silence. It was the kind of quiet that made your ears ring, the kind that came right before the storm.
Elias's men were already moving.
Their boots echoed against the metallic floor, a metronome of encroaching danger. They had no hesitation, no reverence for the space or the prototype standing at its center. Cold hands grabbed her by the arms, their grip firm, forceful, but she didn't resist.
She looked at me.
Even with the men seizing her, her gaze stayed locked on mine. I could see it there, uncertainty, confusion, but not fear. She was waiting. Not for Elias. Not for instructions. But for me.
She trusted me.
"Don't move," I whispered.
Her frame locked into place like a statue. Not a single twitch followed. She obeyed without question. My voice was all she needed.
But Elias-
He didn't care for loyalty. Or trust. Or any humanity that might've flickered in her eyes. All he saw was property. Power.
He snapped.
Without warning, he raised the butt of his gun and struck her.
The sound… oh God, the sound. Metal against metal, a hollow, jarring clang that echoed through the chamber. A dent bloomed on the side of her head. My breath hitched. My entire body stiffened.
Then he hit her again.
And again.
Each blow reverberated like a hammer to my own skull, dragging splinters of old memories from the dark.
The clang of chains.
The stink of blood.
The suffocating panic of being helpless.
I gripped the edge of the nearest console. My vision blurred. Static pulsed in my ears, drowning out the shouting around me. The edges of my world folded inward, crashing in on itself.
Not again.
Not this time.
I wasn't going to lose myself. Not while someone else was getting hurt, someone I had promised to protect.
I moved.
The weight of my body pulled me forward like gravity had shifted. I shoved myself between Elias and the prototype.
The next hit-
Didn't land on her.
It landed on me.
A sharp, blinding pain tore across my forehead. The gun's butt cracked against my skull with brutal force. My knees nearly gave in, but I stood my ground. Warmth ran down my temple, thick, hot blood dripping into my eye.
Still, I didn't flinch.
I turned, shielding her with my arms, with everything I had left.
"I'll protect you," I whispered. My voice trembled, but the words burned with certainty. "No matter what."
Something in her shifted.
Not just the subtle flex of synthetic muscle, but something deeper, an awakening behind her eyes. She stared past me, gaze fixed on Elias like he had just broken a sacred vow.
Then-
She moved.
She pushed me gently aside and reached for him.
Her hands, small and pale and deceptively human, wrapped around his throat. Her grip was merciless. Precise.
Elias's eyes bulged.
He gasped.
His hands clawed at hers, but she didn't budge. He struggled, feet kicking against the floor, mouth agape, but she held him like he was nothing more than an insect to crush.
A scream pierced the air.
Not from him.
From one of his men.
I saw the barrel of the gun before I registered what it meant. The man raised it, aiming not at her, but through me.
At her.
But I was still in front of her.
"NO—!"
The gun fired.
Time shattered.
A body collided into mine with crushing force. Arms wrapped around me like a shield. I felt the warmth first. Then the weight. Then the sound, wet, final, echoing.
Thud.
A body hit the floor.
Blood began pooling beneath it. Dark and growing.
I blinked.
And there he was.
Nico.
His body sprawled across the floor. His chest, where the bullet had hit, was already soaked in red. His eyes stared upward, glassy and unmoving.
He wasn't breathing.
He wasn't moving.
He-he wasn't----
My knees gave out as I collapsed beside him, hands trembling as I tried to touch his face, to shake him, to bring him back.
He had shielded me.
Without hesitation.
He chose me.
And now-
He was gone.
The world around me crumbled. My scream was silent. My grief, deafening.
The prototype was still holding Elias.
But I wasn't watching anymore.
Because the blood on the floor wasn't just Nico's.
It was mine too.
My heart… torn open beside him.
My soul, breaking.
And somewhere beneath that grief-
Rage.
Pure, searing rage.
I didn't even realize I was screaming until I felt my throat tear.
"NICO!!"
His name exploded from my lungs like a primal wail. I stumbled to his side, knees crashing to the cold floor, my hands trembling as I reached for him, blood already pooling, spreading beneath his lifeless body.
He didn't blink.
Didn't breathe.
His eyes, once so annoyingly bright, stared blankly past me, emptied of the spark that had always kept him ahead of danger. Gone.
"No…" My voice cracked as I gripped him. "No, no no------please no."
I pressed my hands to the wound in his chest, desperate, as if I could force his heart to beat just by wanting it badly enough. But the blood, so much of it, poured out around my fingers, indifferent to my pleading.
He wasn't coming back.
I shook as I cradled his head to my chest, my tears falling freely now, streaking down into the mess between us. My cries filled the lab, sharp and breaking, until nothing but grief remained. I rocked back and forth with him in my arms, my voice cracking into a whisper that barely held together.
"I told you… you didn't have to protect me…"
Behind me, the prototype stood frozen, her synthetic frame trembling, not from malfunction, but from something else entirely. She didn't speak. Her gaze, fixed on the blood soaking my hands, shifted, slowly, toward Elias.
He was on the ground, coughing and gasping, dragging breath back into his ruined throat. His men surrounded him, frantic now. No orders. No barked commands. Just wide eyes and white knuckles as they grabbed his arms and hauled him away from the wreckage they caused.
One of them looked back as the doors slid open, just once. Then they were gone.
Silence.
Crushing, endless silence.
And then, my voice again.
A scream, broken, wordless.
I clung to Nico's body like a lifeline, my face buried in the crook of his neck, my body racked with sobs. I felt the warmth drain from him and cursed everything. My trauma roared to the surface, but this time, I didn't collapse. I couldn't afford to.
A soft touch met my shoulder.
The prototype knelt beside me, her metal fingers brushing against my bloodied sleeve, voice trembling like static barely held together.
"…He… is not moving."
I couldn't look at her. I couldn't breathe. But I nodded once, as if to acknowledge it. As if that made it real.
"He's… gone, isn't he?"
I gave her nothing. Just more silence.
She dropped her head.
"…Why does it hurt?"
I wanted to answer, to explain, but my voice was shredded, my heart already in pieces.
So instead, I let her sit there, with her hand still resting on mine, so gentle for a machine. So painfully human.
And for the first time since she was created, she wept.
We didn't say a word.
None of us did.
Even the air felt heavy, as if the whole lab itself had gone still with Nico. David, Mr. Francoise, and the others finally broke from their frozen state and rushed to his side, hands trembling as they lifted him. His body was limp… far too limp. I kept telling myself he'd stir, that this was a nightmare I could blink out of, but his blood was still warm on my skin, soaking into my sleeves.
I followed them without hesitation. I couldn't tear my eyes away.
"Go," Professor Aldrin whispered behind me. "Be with him. I'll stay."
I gave him a faint nod. My knees nearly buckled, but I forced them forward, step by step, as we pushed through the sterile doors. They closed behind me with a hiss that sounded too final.
He was gone.
And I was still here.
But even as I left, I knew she'd be watching, she, the prototype I helped bring into this world, still inside that chamber. Still trying to make sense of what she saw.
PROTOTYPE's POV
I watched the doors close behind Nyx, the others hurrying after her. The man named Nico didn't move once. The red pool beneath him followed them out. I stared at it for a long time.
Something in my chest felt wrong.
Tight.
Like gears grinding without oil, too loud inside my frame.
Professor Aldrin remained, standing in silence. I turned toward him slowly.
"Professor," I said, "what is… death?"
His head lifted at the sound of my voice. For a moment, he just blinked, eyes tired, older than before.
He walked to the side bench and gestured. "Sit with me."
I obeyed. Not out of command protocol. Just… because I wanted to understand.
"You saw what happened," he said quietly.
I nodded. "Nico moved in front of the projectile. Then he fell. Blood exited his chest cavity. And then… he stopped responding."
I paused, confusion catching in my tone. "He did not react to Nyx's voice. She called his name many times."
"No," Aldrin said, softly. "Because he couldn't. That's… what death is."
I frowned.
"Couldn't? He had no visible restraints."
His eyes dropped to the floor. "Nico wasn't restrained. He was gone."
"Gone," I echoed, trying the word in my mouth. It tasted foreign.
Aldrin let out a breath. "A person isn't just a body, you see. There's something inside, a soul, a spark, a life force. You can't see it, but it's there. When it leaves… there's nothing we can do. Not with all the medicine in the world. Not with all our machines."
I looked down at my own hands.
"I don't understand," I whispered. "You repair machines. Heal wounds. You brought me to life. Why can't you bring him back?"
"Because we're not built like you." His voice cracked. "Humans are fragile, even the strongest of us. When something breaks… sometimes, it can't be repaired. Especially when it's the heart."
He tried to smile, but it faltered.
"Then… what Nyx did. Crying. Screaming. Was that grief?"
"Yes," he said. "That pain in your chest right now? The confusion? The ache? That's grief. And if you're feeling that… you're becoming more than we ever dreamed."
I lowered my gaze.
"I didn't want to hurt anyone," I said, my voice soft. "But I couldn't let them take her. I couldn't stand still. But now Nico's gone. Is it my fault?"
"No," he said, immediately. "You didn't fail. Nico made a choice. He chose to protect her. Just like you did. That choice was his, and he'd make it again."
I covered my chest with my hand. Something ached inside.
"I don't know what to do with this feeling," I murmured.
He placed his hand gently over mine.
"You hold it. You remember. And one day… when Nyx is ready… you help her carry it."
I nodded slowly, unable to look away from the bloodstain that still darkened the floor near the bench.
It didn't make sense.
But somehow… it did.
And for the first time since I opened my eyes, I knew what it meant to hurt.
Hospital Scene - Back to Nyx's Perspective
I didn't remember the drive.
Just the sirens, the blur of lights through blood-soaked lashes, and the feel of something warm trickling down the side of my face. The ringing in my ears hadn't stopped, not since that bastard hit me. Everything else was a haze, except for one thing: Nico's blood on my hands.
"Get her into emergency, head trauma!" someone shouted.
"No!" I rasped, my voice barely leaving my throat. "Nico-where's Nico?!"
Strong hands gripped my arms, trying to guide me toward a stretcher, but I twisted free, stumbling after the gurney carrying him down the corridor.
"Nico! I need to---!"
"Miss, please, you're bleeding---"
"I know I'm bleeding!" I barked, eyes blurring. "Let me stay with him!"
But they wouldn't. They peeled me away, voices shouting orders to one another. I felt the warmth of something pressing against my wound, a compress, maybe, and the cold bite of antiseptic. Still, my eyes strained past the nurses, toward the doors he disappeared through.
Please… Please don't let it be too late.
They forced me to lie down, stitching the wound at my temple with robotic efficiency. I was conscious, but barely. The room tilted. My hands were shaking uncontrollably. Every time I blinked, all I saw was Nico's face as he dropped in front of me, arms around me, shielding me.
I reached up and touched my forehead. Sticky. Wet. The pain throbbed dully beneath the fresh stitches, but it wasn't the worst part.
The worst part was the silence.
Then came the soft knock.
Mr. Francoise.
His eyes were swollen, red-rimmed. "He's gone, Nyx."
It didn't register at first.
"What?" I asked, as if I didn't already know.
David followed behind him, a mess of blood and guilt. "He was gone before we even reached the hospital. The doctors… They tried, but…"
I swung my legs off the bed before they could stop me. My balance wavered, but I didn't care. I shoved past them and down the hall, ignoring the protests of the nurses. My vision was half-white from the sting in my head, but I kept walking.
He was in a small room. Too quiet. Too sterile.
I paused in the doorway.
He looked peaceful. Too peaceful. Like he might sit up and throw another sarcastic remark my way at any second.
I staggered to the side of his bed, resting my hand against his cheek. Cold.
"I told you not to die," I whispered. "You dumbass. I told you."
A sob cracked my chest open. Then another. And then it all came crashing down. I slumped forward, forehead against his, uncaring of the bandage that pulled tight with the movement.
"I was supposed to protect you…"
I felt a hand on my shoulder,.Mr. Francoise's, or David's, I couldn't tell. But I didn't move. I just stayed there, buried in grief, with Nico's still body cradled in my arms like I could somehow pull him back.
"I'll never forget you," I murmured. "Not ever."
And as the machines hummed quietly around us, I made a promise in silence:
Elias won't get away with this.