Chapter 17 · The Next Executioner

"You're still breathing."

Ada's voice cut through the static hum before Victor opened his eyes. He was back in the chair. Straps bit into his wrists, his ankles. The metallic crown pressed cold against his temples.

"Yeah." He tested the restraints. No give. "You turned the key."

"I turned the key." She stood three feet away, arms crossed, her face unreadable. The execution chamber looked different this loop—smaller, walls closer, like the room itself had shrunk. The glass partition was gone. Just her and him and the chair. "The real world moved. I felt the needle go in."

"Then why am I here?"

"Because the system pulled you back." Ada stepped closer. Her boots scraped concrete. "The screen said I'm the next executioner. My name. My face. It wants me to finish what the injection started."

Victor's pulse kicked up. He could feel it in his throat. "So finish it."

"Don't." Her jaw tightened. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Act like you don't care." She moved again, circling the chair. He tracked her. "You gave me the key. You stayed behind with an army of your own copies trying to rip you apart.