Chapter 13 — Ghost Code
920 Words
The stars above the shoreline blinked like old memories—distant, fragmented, and barely holding form.
Phoenix lay curled in a blanket near the fire, his breathing even, but his fingers twitching like they were playing keys in a dream. Nova hadn’t slept since North Ridge. Not because she couldn’t—but because she was afraid of what her mind would show her.
The other replicas.
The fire.
The voice calling her mother.
She stared into the flames, barely hearing the crunch of footsteps behind her.
Cassian sat beside her, silent for a moment.
Then: “He’s starting to change.”
She didn’t reply.
“His eyes glow longer now. And the heat doesn’t fade as fast.”
Still nothing.
Cassian sighed. “You’re mad.”
Nova’s jaw flexed. “You think this is about you?”
“I think it’s partly about what I hid. About what I funded.”
She turned to him sharply.
“I’m not mad, Cassian. I’m furious.”
She stood, pacing the sand.
“You knew about Project Eclipse. You knew about what they were trying to build. And you didn’t think to say anything while we were running for our lives?”
“I didn’t know you were part of it,” Cassian said. “Back then, it was all intel on failed prototypes. I pulled funding the second I saw the full scope—”
“But it was too late,” Nova snapped. “You gave them the fuel. You gave Orion his start.”
Cassian looked up at her. “And I’ve been trying to make up for it ever since.”
“Trying,” she spat, “isn’t enough.”
Phoenix stirred in his sleep.
Nova froze.
He was mumbling again.
But this time… it wasn’t numbers.
It was a name.
“...Calen…”
Her blood ran cold.
She knelt beside him.
“Phoenix,” she whispered, shaking his shoulder gently. “Wake up.”
He jolted upright—eyes wide, glowing faintly.
Nova held his face. “What did you see?”
His voice was hollow. “A boy. Taller than me. Same eyes. Same hands.”
Nova’s stomach dropped. “That name you said—Calen—did you see him before?”
Phoenix nodded. “He said... he used to protect me. But then he burned. He burned everything.”
Cassian stepped closer. “That’s not a dream. That’s a memory file.”
Nova looked up. “A ghost code.”
“What’s that?” Phoenix asked.
Nova stood, grim. “They embedded failsafes in some of us. If we survived too long, the memories of others would bleed in—like warnings. Or traps.”
“Why?”
“To make us self-destruct.”
Cassian scanned the shoreline.
“We need to move.”
“Where?” Nova asked.
“To find Calen.”
“You think he’s still alive?”
“No,” Cassian said grimly. “But his code is.”
The next morning, they drove west—deep into the old cities, the places abandoned after the government relocation.
Detroit was dead.
Which made it perfect.
Cassian led them to an old server vault hidden beneath a collapsed observatory. The last known storage of Project Eclipse prototypes. No security. No power.
But one access terminal still blinked in standby.
Nova connected the flash drive they'd stolen.
Lines of corrupted code filled the screen.
Phoenix stood beside her, quiet.
Then suddenly, he reached forward—his fingers typed on their own.
Cassian’s eyes widened.
“He’s interfacing.”
Nova stared. “With a dead system?”
“His memory has its own cipher.”
Lines decrypted.
One name emerged.
Subject 02 – Calen Sorrell
Files began opening.
Photos. Reports. Mission logs. Mental stability readings.
Nova felt the air freeze in her lungs.
One image showed a boy with fire in his eyes.
But not blue.
Crimson.
Calen had been the first to disobey.
The first to feel.
The first to kill an entire testing unit when they tried to reset his memory.
He’d disappeared after the Zeta breach.
Presumed dead.
But one final note stood out on the file.
“Subject 02 DNA used as base for secondary hybrid: designation PHNX.”
Nova whispered, “They made Phoenix from both of us.”
Cassian stepped back, jaw tight. “So he’s not just yours.”
“He’s ours,” Nova said. “But Calen’s rage… that’s what they didn’t account for.”
She turned to Phoenix.
“Do you feel it?”
He nodded.
“I feel him when I close my eyes.”
Suddenly, the lights flickered in the vault.
Cassian raised his weapon. “We’ve been traced.”
“Impossible,” Nova muttered. “The server was offline.”
“Not anymore.”
Footsteps echoed in the hall above.
Cassian moved fast—dragged a crate in front of the door.
Nova scooped Phoenix up. “We have to go now.”
But Phoenix didn’t move.
He stared at the screen.
Eyes glowing.
“He’s coming,” he whispered. “He never died.”
Back at Foundation Command, Orion stood before a digital render of Nova and Phoenix’s escape route.
He tapped the glass.
“Activate Ghost Protocol.”
Calyx hesitated. “You said it was unstable.”
“It’s already inside the boy,” Orion said. “We either let him burn out naturally…”
His eyes narrowed.
“Or we show him what real fire looks like.”
- Writer
