CHAPTER 15: THE RESIGNATION
889 Words
POV: CAPTAIN ELIAS VANCE
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I didn't lower the gun. My arm felt like it was made of lead, and the air in the boardroom was getting thinner with every word she spoke. Twelve versions of my sister. Twelve faces that reminded me of the one thing I couldn't protect.
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"Audit?" I spat the word out like it was poison. "You think you can just turn the world into a balance sheet? You’ve been slaughtering people—my people—just to expand your market share?"
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The Sarah at the head of the table didn't look offended. She looked disappointed, like a CEO explaining a simple concept to a failing intern.
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"Slaughter is such a primitive term, Elias," she said, pacing slowly along the obsidian table. "We are optimizing. The human soul is inefficient in its current state. It’s cluttered with useless emotions, fragile memories, and an expiration date that makes long-term planning impossible. The Breach offers a cloud-based solution. Immortality, but organized."
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"Cap," Bravo’s voice was low, dangerous. I could hear him shifting his weight. He was looking at the 'Sarahs' at the table. "They aren't even blinking. These things aren't human. Let’s just level the floor and find a way out."
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[ Jace: Wait, Cap... don't fire. Look at the monitors again. ]
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I glanced at the screens lining the walls. They were no longer showing our memories. They were showing live feeds of cities across the globe. New York, London, Tokyo. In every city, the shadows were beginning to stretch, even in the middle of the day. People were walking into buildings and not coming out. And when they did, they had that same polished, hollow look in their eyes.
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The takeover wasn't coming. It was already happening.
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"You're already infecting them," I whispered.
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"We're 'onboarding' them," the lead Sarah corrected. She stopped in front of me, her face inches from my barrel. "And we need a security chief to manage the transition. Who better than the man who knows how to fight the shadows? You know their weaknesses, Elias. You can help us minimize the friction."
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She reached out, her hand pale and perfect, moving toward my face. "Join the Board. We can give you Sarah back. Not a memory. Not a projection. A permanent, optimized version of the sister you lost. You can have your family again."
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For a heartbeat, I wavered. The promise of Sarah—the real Sarah—was a hook that had been stuck in my throat for fifteen years. I looked into her eyes, searching for even a glimmer of the girl who used to laugh at my stupid jokes.
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But there was nothing. Just the cold reflection of a corporate machine.
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"My sister died in that fire," I said, my voice finally steadying. "And whatever you've built out of her data? It’s just another monster for me to kill."
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I turned my gaze to Bravo and Jace. They didn't need orders. They saw the look in my eyes.
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"I’m resigning," I said, looking back at the Board.
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The lead Sarah’s smile vanished. Her face rippled for a second, the skin turning into grey static before snapping back. "Resignation isn't an option in this contract, Captain. You are proprietary technology of the Board."
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"Then consider this a hostile takeover," I growled.
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I didn't fire at her. Instead, I reached into my pouch and grabbed the mirror shard—the one vibrating with Subject 01’s dying light. I didn't throw it at her. I slammed it down onto the obsidian table with everything I had.
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CRACK.
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The obsidian slab didn't just break; it screamed. The mirror shard was like a virus being introduced to a clean system. The white city outside the windows began to flicker. The twelve Sarahs at the table spasmed, their corporate suits turning into tattered hospital gowns and back again.
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[ Jace: It’s working! You’re crashing their server! Cap, the elevator—it’s opening! ]
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"Go! Now!" I yelled.
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We lunged for the elevator doors as the boardroom began to dissolve into a whirlwind of glass and shadows. The lead Sarah reached for me, her fingers turning into long, surgical needles.
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"You can't quit, Elias!" she screamed, her voice distorting into a thousand shrieks. "You’re part of the assets!"
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The elevator doors slammed shut just as a surge of black ink hit the glass. We were falling again—not upward or downward, but sideways through reality.
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When the doors finally opened, we weren't in a skyscraper. We were standing in the middle of a rain-drenched street in a city I didn't recognize. The sky was a bruised purple, and the buildings were covered in massive digital billboards showing the Board’s logo.
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A man walked past us, his eyes fixed on his phone. He didn't have a shadow.
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"Cap..." Bravo said, looking around. "Where the hell are we?"
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I looked at my own shadow. It was back to normal, but it was trembling. I gripped my rifle, the weight of it the only familiar thing left in a world that had been sold.
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"We're in the market," I said. "And it’s time to start the protest."
- Writer
