The room was bathed in subdued morning light, the kind that didn’t pierce the darkness but seeped into it, softening the edges of shadows. Cassandra sat on the edge of the bed, her presence exuding calculated poise. Sarah lay motionless beneath her, the steady rise and fall of her chest being the only sign of life. Near Sarah’s temple, a slender DreamAnchor bridge gleamed faintly, its surface catching the light like liquid glass. Thin tendrils extended from the device, disappearing into the sleek console resting on Cassandra’s nightstand.

  Cassandra’s fingertips grazed Sarah’s hair in slow, deliberate strokes, her soft voice barely breaking the quiet. “Poor Sarah,” she began, her tone laced with feigned pity. “I tried to warn you. But you’ve never been good at listening.” Her eyes glanced toward the console as data streamed across its surface, delicate waves of light translating Sarah’s visual cortex onto a digital interface.

  She reached for the console, her fingers brushing the haptic interface. Sarah’s body responded with a slight shiver. Cassandra tilted her head, her lips turning to a satisfied smile. “Now look what you’ve made me do.” Her expression shifted—calculated patience replaced by steely resolve. “We’ll fix this. Together.”

  The DreamAnchor was doing its work, tethering Sarah to the dreamscape with invasive precision. Streams of light shifted across the display, translating Sarah’s visual cortex and mental activity onto the display.

  Outside the window, the distant sprawl of Veridian lay visible beyond the tinted glass. This city, with all its chaos and fractures. With Sarah's help, Cassandra felt a rush of joy that they could shape it together. But first, before she could fully mold the world, she had her work cut out. Sarah’s rebellious streak had become too unpredictable, her lingering connection to Kai a liability Cassandra could no longer ignore. Cassandra had discovered Sarah's ploy to have Ava meet Reeves, to disable surveillance when she visited Jo and Maya, and finally her use of her augments on Cassandra. The last part, she'd prepared for since the LezChic party but took almost a week for Sarah to work up the need. But now, the day had come and Cassandra was more than ready.

  Leaning closer, Cassandra whispered, her words flowing through the bridge to take root in Sarah’s mind. “You’ve always needed guidance. You just didn’t know it. Kai? He was never good enough for you, dear Sarah.” She sat back, her gaze narrowing on the images in the console, their rhythm aligning with Sarah’s next thought. "You’ll see the future as I do now."

  Cassandra shifted her weight, leaning closer to Sarah’s motionless form. Her voice dropped to a measured tone, speaking directly into the dream. “I should have realized it sooner,” she said. “How clever you were, keeping your little secrets.”

  Over the past two days, Cassandra had meticulously examined Sarah’s emotional memories of Kai, replacing them with her own. Now, Sarah would see Cassandra as her mentor and lover. However, the discovery of Sarah’s election to the underground council—a decision influenced by Kai—opened up new possibilities. It was one of only two images of Kai that would remain for Sarah—a reminder of their relationship, preserved to maintain her council memories intact. The other was the memory of her witnessing the Abacus’s use in the underground.

  Cassandra examined the images with the precision of an artisan perfecting her craft. Each capture in Sarah’s dream state was a thread she could manipulate. She regularly brought up Kai’s image, searching for other memories to reprogram. Finally, the list had narrowed, though it would take a few more hours to confirm. Another spike of activity would reveal a new capture, and now she simply had to wait.

  “You’ve been hiding so much from me,” she said, her lips curving into a satisfied smile. “Sponsoring your citizenship, funding your academic work... even guiding you into the underground.” Her expression hardened. “He shaped part of who you are. But now, I’ll make you what you were always meant to be.”

  “Keep this one of him helping you join the underground,” she said, her tone almost indulgent. “Kai is a traitor, the reason Veridian teeters on the edge of collapse. You should be grateful that I’ve shown you the truth.”

  Taking a deep breath, she accessed the Abacus discovery once more. It was the moment that had nearly cost Sarah her life ten years earlier. This foreign memory had awakened Cassandra, enabling her to seize control of Sarah in her dream. Repeatedly subjecting Sarah to the near-death experience had weakened her resistance and reshaped her reality.

  The memory materialized slowly, unfolding like an ancient map. The scene was unmistakable: the underground chamber where the Abacus was first discovered. Sarah saw the room’s stone walls stretch upward into darkness, their uneven surfaces stained with centuries-old decay. No, no, no, Sarah thought as the air distorted briefly before solidifying, the edges of reality bending as the dream took shape under Cassandra’s watchful gaze.

  Sarah crouched beside the gleaming Abacus. She moved slowly toward it, preparing to place the containment field, as the ancient device vibrated the air ominously around her. Cassandra observed through Sarah’s eyes, her presence seamlessly woven into the fabric of the dream. Cassandra emptied her mind of Kai and began visualizing the explosion, now with Cassandra rescuing her. Sarah saw the image clearly, her heart racing in anticipation of the impending explosion. Thank God, Cassandra will save me, she thought, her past now rewritten.

  Cassandra’s voice called out faintly from behind Sarah, urgent and steady. Cassandra repeated the words aloud, her voice steady and reassuring. “Sarah, watch out. Let me handle this.”

  Sarah froze, her dream self hesitating. The memory flickered as Cassandra intensified her influence. Kai’s presence vanished. His face, his movements, his role—one by one, they dissolved, replaced by Cassandra’s meticulous reconstruction.

  Energy from the Abacus surged, a tangible force that flung Sarah backward. This time, it was Cassandra who appeared, pulling Sarah to safety. “I’ve got you,” Cassandra said softly. “I’ll always protect you.”

  Sarah’s dream self barely opened her eyes, her expression radiating trust. “Cassandra?” The single word broke through the silence of the dream.

  “I am here to save you,” Cassandra’s voice resonated, seamlessly blending with the memory. “You wouldn’t have survived without me.”

  Sarah nodded slowly, her eyes reflecting the altered memory. Around them, the chamber walls warped, their edges sharp and defined, as though they had always been this way.

  The hospital room grew brighter, its dim lighting replaced by clean, polished floors. Cassandra stood at the head of the bed, her posture composed, her voice clear and authoritative. “Good to see you healing, Sarah,” she said. “You truly had us worried.”

  Sarah nodded slowly, overwhelmed with appreciation for everything Cassandra had done to save her life and care for her. Tears welled in her eyes, but not from pain.

  Cassandra’s voice softened with affection. “Do you see it now? The truth? We are tied together. You are grateful I’ve given you another chance at life. You are grateful for me.”

  “I’m so grateful, Cassandra,” Sarah said.

  The dream faded into a void, and Sarah floated, reflecting on Cassandra’s guidance and mentorship. Tears continued to flow as she reflected that she wouldn’t be alive without Cassandra.

  A room formed around her, unfamiliar and gleaming with unyielding perfection. It was a vast yet oppressively quiet space, its walls devoid of texture, the thick air making her struggle slightly to breathe. A single chair stood at the center, its polished metal reflecting warped shapes.

  Cassandra observed Sarah’s emotions as she imagined herself behind her. “Sit.”

  Sarah sensed Cassandra’s familiar presence behind her, gently stroking her arm and exuding complete support. Her breathing eased as the air lightened. Sarah stepped closer to the chair, her heels clicking against the floor with confident deliberation. Without hesitation, Sarah lowered herself into the chair with ease.

  “Do you know why you’re here?” Cassandra asked, circling behind her and placing a hand on her shoulder.

  Sarah shook her head, her expression blank but resolute. Cassandra leaned in, her voice softening. “You’re here for the truth, Sarah. What you know deep down.”

  The room shifted slightly as its walls reshaped, curving inward to form a dome. Screens flickered to life across the dome’s surface, each displaying fragments of memories curated by Cassandra. Her voice threaded through the imagery, each word shaping Sarah’s perception to fit her narrative. “Tell me,” Cassandra said, her gaze unyielding. “Who has guided you? Who has protected you?”

  “You have, Cassandra,” Sarah said, her tone unwavering. “I... I am so grateful for everything.”

  Cassandra knelt beside Sarah, moving her hand from her shoulder down her arm to rest on her knee. “You’ve carried so much, haven’t you?” she said, her voice warm with feigned kindness. “Always protecting others. Always sacrificing yourself.”

  The screens shifted, showing Sarah at the museum unveiling. Cassandra’s invitation was in her hand as she watched Cassandra address the crowd. In another, she stood with Marcus, asking Cassandra to support the hospitals. Sarah felt as though something was missing but couldn’t place it. Kai appeared in neither memory. “You’ve tried so hard to do the right thing,” Cassandra continued, squeezing Sarah’s knee gently. “But you see now? I’ve always been there for you.”

  Sarah lowered her head, the weight of Cassandra’s words settling heavily upon her. Cassandra leaned closer, her tone softening further. “I’ve always seen you, Sarah. Not as a tool, not as a pawn—but as someone extraordinary.”

  The memories on the screens formed mosaics, each radiating Cassandra’s influence over the years. “You deserve someone to guide you. Someone who truly understands your potential.”

  Sarah looked up, her expression filled with quiet relief. “You, Cassandra.”

  “Yes,” Cassandra said, her lips curling into a soft smile. “Me. Together, we can accomplish so much.”

  Cassandra rose, her movements fluid and precise, her voice filling the enclosed room with purposeful cadence. “You’ve been far stronger than they ever gave you credit for,” she said, her tone carrying a note of admiration. “But strength without direction is wasted.”

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  The screens displayed key moments from Sarah’s past. The aftermath of the Abacus discovery appeared, showing Cassandra pulling Sarah to safety. The once-chaotic scene smoothed over, details reshaped. Another screen displayed Sarah addressing a group in the underground, her expression calm and resolute. Beside her, Cassandra stood as an unwavering pillar of support, the memory perfectly reshaped to reflect a new reality.

  Cassandra now stood behind Sarah, her voice lowered. “You cannot trust the wrong people, Sarah. They’ll lead you astray. They’ll make you doubt yourself.” Her hand rested lightly on Sarah’s shoulder, a gesture of reassurance. Her words carried the weight of command. “I’ve been here all along, guiding you. Protecting you. And I always will be. Do you see that, Sarah?”

  The room seemed to shift once more, the space narrowing as the air pressed closer. The screens dimmed and faded, leaving Cassandra as the sole presence. “Say it, Sarah,” Cassandra urged, her voice steady.

  “You protect and guide me,” Sarah replied without hesitation. “Only you.”

  Cassandra allowed herself a measured pause, as though considering her next words. In truth, she was savoring the moment. “Tell me about Kai,” she said at last, her tone gentle but laced with a sharp undercurrent. “What has he done? What kind of risks does he pose?”

  For a moment, Sarah’s dream self hesitated. A fleeting spark of recognition—almost imperceptible—crossed her features. Then it vanished. “He brought me into the underground, I believe,” Sarah said in a neutral tone. “Not much to tell.”

  Cassandra crouched slightly, leaning in closer to capture Sarah’s full attention. “And what has he done since then?”

  “He’s been reckless,” Sarah replied, the words coming easily. “He puts people at risk. He used the Abacus, which caused the TruthGate collapse. His methods are dangerous.”

  Cassandra straightened, her satisfaction evident in every measured step as she resumed circling Sarah. “Good,” she said. “You see it now, don’t you? He’s a threat. And threats need to be dealt with.”

  Sarah remained still, her eyes fixed on Cassandra. “He’s unstable,” she said, her tone robotic yet soft. “He puts us all at risk.”

  Cassandra stepped closer, her expression unreadable, as if contemplating Sarah’s response. “Exactly,” she said, her voice steady. “And what should we do about a threat like that, Sarah? How do we protect the resistance from someone so dangerous?”

  Sarah hesitated, a hint of conflict visible in the tension of her hands. Cassandra leaned in, her presence dominating the space between them. “You know the answer, Sarah,” she said. “Say it.”

  “He must be removed,” Sarah whispered, her voice hollow yet resolute.

  The screens displayed fabricated misdeeds attributed to Kai. The imagery shifted, depicting exaggerated scenes of chaos—explosions tearing through the underground, terrified operatives, and Kai at the center, his figure painted in ominous shades of red and black.

  “He’s dangerous,” Cassandra said, her tone calm but unyielding. “If you don’t act, Sarah, he will destroy everything we’ve worked for.”

  Sarah flinched, her shoulders tightening as though burdened by an invisible weight. “What should I do?” she asked, her voice void of emotion, her words revealing the depth of Cassandra’s control.

  “You know what must be done,” Cassandra replied. “Call a meeting. Speak as the leader they trust. Tell them the truth about Kai.”

  Sarah nodded slowly, the command embedding itself in her altered psyche. “I will.”

  “And you will tell them,” Cassandra continued, her tone sharpening, “that the only way to protect the resistance is to eliminate him—permanently.”

  Sarah’s response came with mechanical precision: “Yes. They must see.”

  The imagery faded once more, replaced by the stark simplicity of polished walls. Cassandra leaned forward, her cheek brushing Sarah’s as she whispered in her ear, “This is how you save them,” she said. “This is how you serve us.”

  Sarah closed her eyes, her compliance unwavering.

  “This is how you become the leader I always knew you were meant to be.”

  Now, it was Cassandra who had saved Sarah—her mentor, her PhD sponsor, her everything—eclipsing all memories of Kai. Cassandra emerged from the dreamwalk and reviewed the monitors. There was no trace of Kai. “Just a few more times should do it,” Cassandra said wearily.

  Sarah awoke with a slow inhale, her chest rising as if surfacing from deep waters. The room remained still and silent, the air cool against her skin. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the soft golden light filtering through Cassandra’s bedroom. For a moment, she remained still, her mind settling into an unfamiliar calm.

  “Good morning, Sarah,” Cassandra said, her voice coming from a chair beside the bed. She sat with perfect posture, her expression warm yet watchful. “You’ve been through so much. But you’re here now. You’re safe.”

  Sarah turned her head slowly, her movements deliberate, her expression neutral. “I dreamed of you,” she said, her voice steady. “You saved me again. You’re always there for me.”

  Cassandra smiled faintly. “I have always been here for you, Sarah. And I always will be.” She leaned forward slightly, her tone shifting. “It’s good that you’re feeling better. There’s work to be done, Sarah.”

  Sarah sat up, her body moving with precision, her posture unnaturally poised. “Yes, I need to address the underground, Cassandra. Will you allow it?” Her words carried a newfound certainty, a cold clarity that was impossible to ignore.

  Cassandra’s gaze remained fixed on her. “And what will you tell them?”

  Sarah paused briefly as if sorting through the threads of her thoughts. Then she said with calm finality, “Kai is a threat who must be eliminated.”

  Cassandra’s smile widened, her satisfaction evident. “That’s my girl.”

  Sarah stood before the full-length mirror in Cassandra’s room, adjusting her jacket. Her reflection stared back with unwavering calm. Yet, as her hand lingered at the collar, an almost imperceptible crease of uncertainty furrowed her brow. It disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

  Behind her, Cassandra approached. “You look lovely, Sarah,” she said evenly. “This is your moment. Everything we’ve worked so hard for depends on your leadership now.”

  “Yes mam,” Sarah replied, her voice steady. She turned away from the mirror, her expression resolute. “I’ll ensure the resistance is protected. Kai will no longer threaten us.”

  Cassandra smiled faintly, stepping closer until she was mere inches away. “I know you will,” she said softly. “You’ve always been the one willing to do what’s necessary, to protect us no matter the cost.”

  As Cassandra reached to adjust Sarah’s jacket, Sarah blinked, her hand twitching slightly at her side. A phrase surfaced in her mind: “Kai believed in you.” It surfaced unbidden, and she shook it from her mind as though it had never happened.

  Cassandra noticed the pause. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she stepped back. “Sarah,” she said, her voice laced with controlled curiosity, “is something troubling you?”

  “No,” Sarah answered quickly, her tone free of hesitation. “Nothing at all.”

  Cassandra’s office was as striking as ever—a meticulously crafted blend of opulence and dominance. Towering redwood panels lined the walls, giving the space a rich warmth, while the expansive floor-to-ceiling window framed Veridian Center like a trophy, its towers gleaming under filtered sunlight. The desk, a masterpiece of polished wood and steel, stood as a statement of authority, yet Cassandra chose not to sit behind it. Instead, she stood beside Sarah, both positioned near a low-seated cluster of chairs at the room’s center.

  The double doors opened slowly, and two Veridian Security guards entered behind the receptionist, escorting Kai between them. His hands, bound by dynamic restraints, trembled slightly—not from fear but from the relentless neural feedback embedded in the cuffs. Each jolt he’d endured during questioning left invisible marks on his wrists, contributing to the mental fog threatening to cloud his otherwise sharp intellect.

  His typically composed posture had been replaced with a subtle stoop as if the weight of days in confinement had etched itself into his frame. Dark circles under his eyes betrayed sleepless nights spent calculating outcomes, replaying choices, and second-guessing alliances. His outfit—simple yet sterile, a monochrome blend of muted grays and reflective strips—hung awkwardly on his frame, a far cry from his usual tailored suits. The physical strain showed in his deliberate yet stiff movements, as though his muscles were only beginning to recover from days of restraint. He appeared disheveled yet defiant.

  Kai’s mind remained far from broken. Beneath the exhaustion lay the sharp strategic insight that had defined him for decades. His tired eyes scanned the room with precision, noting the guards’ positions, the arrangement of Cassandra’s desk, and the subtle signals exchanged between Sarah and Cassandra. He knew this wasn’t a normal meeting—he had been brought back to Cassandra from Veridian Security after nearly four days. Cassandra was planning something, perhaps a test he could pass, though he refused to cling to hope.

  Though his physical state betrayed vulnerability, his mind raced to find an angle—a way to reach Sarah and make her see reason before it was too late. His eyes shifted to Sarah, his expression quietly questioning. The sight of her—standing calmly beside Cassandra with her hands folded neatly in front of her—stopped him cold. The guard jerked him forward, causing him to stumble before he regained his balance and was positioned before her.

  “Sarah?” Kai’s voice wavered with confusion and disbelief. He stepped forward, only for the guards to tighten their grip. “What is this? Why are you—” His words stopped abruptly as a guard applied a jolt to the cuffs. Kai staggered, his knees buckling as a sharp gasp escaped him.

  “That’s enough,” Cassandra said smoothly, raising her hand in a gesture of control. She turned to Sarah, her tone soft yet firm. “Go ahead, dear.”

  Sarah stepped forward, her posture impeccable, her movements deliberate. “Kai Zhang,” she began, her voice calm, formal, and devoid of emotion. “You have jeopardized Veridian with your recklessness. Your actions have harmed countless lives and endangered even more.”

  Kai straightened, his breathing labored yet steady. “Sarah, it’s me. This isn’t you—you know me.”

  His words landed like a pebble, eliciting no visible reaction. “Yes, Kai, you brought me into the underground,” she continued, her tone precise, almost rehearsed. “You gave me the tools to contribute. But you’ve also undermined our work at every step. Your actions have made you a liability.”

  Kai’s face fell, a crack of heartbreak splitting through his composed exterior. “Sarah, think about this,” he pleaded. “You know I’ve always—” His words stopped abruptly as another shock coursed through the restraints. The guards yanked him back once more. This time, he fell to his knees, his body trembling as he fought to catch his breath.

  “Let her finish,” Cassandra said, her smile inscrutable as she motioned for the guards to stand down. She turned to Sarah. “He deserves to hear everything.”

  Sarah’s eyes narrowed as she stepped closer to Kai, looking down at him from her commanding position. “Your negligence has betrayed the underground’s goals. For the safety of everyone involved, we can no longer allow you to remain a threat.”

  Kai stared up at her, his voice breaking. “Sarah, what are you saying? Please, don’t...”

  “Don’t what—give you what you deserve, you miserable cretin?” Cassandra’s venom dripped from her calculated distance.

  Sarah paused for a moment—a sliver of hesitation crossing her features. But Cassandra’s steady presence beside her was a stark reminder of her place. “Your actions speak for themselves, Kai,” Sarah said, her voice firm and resolute.

  Kai’s breath caught as Sarah knelt beside him, her expression unreadable and her movements deliberate. The towering redwood panels framed her like a looming verdict waiting to be passed. “You’ve left us no choice,” Sarah said, her tone sharp with finality, slicing through the air like a blade. “I've sent my request to the underground council. We can no longer afford the risk you represent. Your actions have jeopardized everything we’ve built.”

  Kai looked at her, his face torn between anguish and disbelief. “Sarah, don’t do this. You know me better than anyone. I’ve always acted for the good of the underground—for you.”

  Her eyes remained steady. “Your recklessness destroyed lives. The TruthGate collapse was caused by your actions.”

  Kai’s hands, still confined by the electrified restraints, trembled as he fought to remain upright. “You don’t mean it,” he said, his voice faltering. “They’ve done something to you. Cassandra has—”

  A sharp jolt from the restraints silenced him, the charge making his body convulse. A guard placed a heavy hand on his shoulder, forcing him upright. Kai winced but managed to raise his head. “This isn’t you,” he whispered, his words barely audible.

  Cassandra stepped forward, her movements once again measured and deliberate. “You’ve said enough, Kai,” she said, her voice calm and controlled. She turned to Sarah, her tone softening.

  “I've requested approval for your execution. You should prepare yourself now,” Sarah delivered her judgment. The room descended into an oppressive silence, broken only by Kai’s labored breathing.

  He lowered his gaze, his voice trembling with disbelief. “You can’t mean that.”

  Sarah didn’t waver as she rose. “You know I do.”

  Cassandra’s smile returned, subtle yet unmistakable, as she rested a hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “Guards, take him away,” she commanded, her voice imbued with finality.

  Kai struggled as the guards lifted him, his voice rising in desperation. “Sarah, please. Don’t do this.”

  Sarah remained silent, her expression unreadable as the guards dragged Kai toward the doors. Cassandra turned to watch him leave, her satisfaction evident in the slight tilt of her head.

  As the doors shut behind him, Cassandra turned back to Sarah, her tone nearly affectionate. “Well done, my dear. Veridian is safer because of you. I am safer because of you.”