Chapter 8 · Mirror Shards

"Stop digging, Vera. You're going to crash the whole system," Echo's voice snapped inside my head, sharp as a razor.

I didn't stop. I shoved my consciousness deeper into the neural archive, ignoring the static screaming in my ears. The clinic’s digital void was a mess of fragmented code and ghost data, but I could feel it—a flicker of something familiar. A memory that wasn't mine, yet felt like a bruise on my soul.

"I need to know who the hell you were before you became a glitchy voice in my skull," I grunted, my real body twitching on the operating table.

"I was a tool. Now I'm your lifeline. Pick one," Echo countered. His presence shifted, suddenly crowding my mental space, a cold pressure that felt like he was leaning over my shoulder. "If you push further, you'll fry your remaining organic synapses. Is that the plan? Total brain death by noon?"

"Shut up and hold the connection steady," I snapped back.

I broke through the next layer of encryption. The void shifted. Suddenly, I wasn't in a sea of code anymore. I was standing in a white room—sterile, blinding, and smelling of ozone. A man stood there.