Chapter Fifty Six: The Signal on the Shore
326 Words
Xavier’s POV
The rain hadn’t stopped for hours.
By the time Xavier reached the coast, the world looked like a watercolor gone wrong—gray sky bleeding into gray sea.
His car sputtered to a stop outside a forgotten town. Broken signs swung in the wind; windows were boarded up, and the salt air stung his throat. The flash drive’s coordinates blinked on his screen, pointing toward an abandoned lighthouse at the edge of the cliffs.
He zipped his jacket higher and started walking.
Each step echoed with static from his earpiece, faint pulses of data that sounded almost… alive. The signal wasn’t steady—it throbbed, like a heartbeat skipping time.
Halfway up the cliffs, his radio crackled.
> Signal acquired.
Source proximity: 400 meters.
Xavier froze.
For a moment, he could’ve sworn he heard someone breathing in the channel.
“Hello?” he said quietly.
Silence.
Then a whisper.
> You shouldn’t have come, Xavier.
His stomach twisted. He recognized the voice—calm, quiet, and eerily identical to Mila’s. But it wasn’t her.
He sprinted the rest of the way to the lighthouse.
Inside, the air smelled of rust and seaweed. Old machinery lined the walls, and in the center of the room, a single monitor flickered to life. A video file auto-played—timestamped from two days ago.
Mila, strapped to a chair.
Her reflection flickering on a nearby mirror—except the reflection moved differently.
“What the hell…” Xavier whispered, stepping closer.
The Mila in the chair looked scared, confused. The one in the reflection smiled coldly.
Then both looked up at the camera.
> “You wanted the truth, Xavier,” the mirrored one said. “Now you’ll have to choose which one of us to save.”
The screen went black.
Thunder cracked outside. His laptop beeped—a split signal flashing between two coordinates.
Two heartbeats.
Two Milas.
And one of them wasn’t supposed to exist.
- Writer
