"Don't touch me." Dax ripped his wrist back. The chain between us snapped taut and bit straight into my skin.
"I wasn't—"
"You were." He didn't look at me. He looked right through me. "Keep your hands to yourself."
My fingers were still hanging in the air where his arm had been. The archive air went ice cold.
"Dax. It's me. It's Mara." My voice cracked. "We just ran the Echo. You saw it. You know I was framed."
"I know you're a suspect in the core blast." His voice was flat. Dead. "And I know I'm the guy who brings you to the gallows. So tell me why the hell we're chained together before I find a way to snap this thing — and your wrists with it."
He stepped in. Close. Too close.
My back hit the shelf. Data-crystals hummed against my spine. He didn't touch me. Didn't have to. Heat rolled off his coat. Ozone and old leather.
"You don't remember," I said. "The lock takes a price. For the Echo. It took my name. It took the last ten minutes."
"I don't forget." He leaned in. Chest almost to mine. Breath on my cheek. "I execute."
"You did. You remembered me for like, five minutes. You almost trusted me."
"Wrong." His eyes dropped to the chain, then back to mine. Hard. "I don't trust rats."
"I'm not—" I shoved at his chest. Like shoving a wall. "Listen to me. I heard him. Leo. My brother. He's alive. He's in the core. If we leave now we lose the signal."
That stopped him. Just for a second.
His brow creased. Something flickered there. Then it was gone.
"Your brother's dead," he said. "Records say he died in the first blast."
"The records are lies! Same people who framed me lied about him!"
"Lower your voice." His hand shot out. Not gentle. He clamped my wrist and yanked me in. Faces inches apart. His grip crushed. "You wanna get us erased? Tribunal drones sweep this vault every ninety seconds."
"Then let me go!" I twisted. The chain rattled. "If it's a trap, let me walk into it alone."
"We're chained, remember?" He gave me that thin, cruel smirk. "Where you go, I go. And I'm the one with the key to the perimeter gates. So you do exactly what I say."
He yanked. I stumbled after him, boots skidding on the metal floor. Every step felt like a slap.
The guy who'd looked at me like I was a person? Gone. This was the Judge again.
Then the floor buzzed.
Not the low thrum of the city. Higher. Sharper. A whine that crawled up through my teeth.
"Shit." Dax's head snapped up. He shoved me behind a data pillar. Hard. His body caged mine against the cold metal. One arm locked across my chest, pinning me.
"Stay still," he breathed against my ear. Warm breath. Cold pillar at my back. His chest pressed to my shoulder, solid, rising and falling fast. "You make a sound, I gag you myself. You understand?"
I couldn't answer. My heart was hammering so loud I was sure the drones could hear it.
His arm was tight across me. His coat smelled like smoke and rain. I could feel his pulse through his sleeve.
"I see it," I whispered. My eyes locked on the console past the pillar. It glowed faint blue. "The terminal. The log's there. If I get the encryption key I can pin Leo's signal. Exactly."
"Forget the log." His eyes scanned the ceiling. Red sweep-light crawling. "Perimeter's closing. We move now or we die here."
"I'm not leaving him!" My voice shook. "Dax, please. You saw the evidence. You know I didn't blow the core."
He looked down at me. Really looked.
For a second the ice cracked. His gaze dropped to my mouth. Hung there. Then snapped back to my eyes.
The air between us went tight. Like a wire pulled too far.
He didn't move away. He leaned closer. Voice low, rough.
"Maybe I do believe you," he murmured. "But in this city? Truth doesn't keep you alive. Obedience does."
A red line sliced across the floor. Right over our boots.
"Move!" He grabbed my hand and ran.
We sprinted for the console. A drone rounded the corner, weapon whining, charging white-hot.
Dax shoved me toward the keys and stepped in front of me. Drew in one smooth pull.
"Get the damn key! Now!" He fired. Three shots. The drone burst — sparks and shrapnel raining down. The blast knocked us sideways.
My fingers flew over the holo-keys. Bypassing layers by feel. Courier shortcuts. Muscle memory.
"Almost— got it—"
"Another one!" He spun, firing at the vent. A second drone dropped, guns hot.
A bolt slammed into his shoulder. Ionized air cracked. He grunted, staggered, smoke curling off his coat. Didn't stop shooting.
"Got it!" I ripped the data-chip free.
I lunged for him as his knees buckled. Caught him. His breath was ragged. His face too pale.
My hand brushed the lock on his wrist.
The chain jolted.
White-hot electricity ripped through both of us. We went down together, tangled, gasping. The lock flared — pulsing, violent crimson.
"What— what is it doing?" I clutched my chest. My heart stuttered.
"We didn't— activate—" Dax choked out, eyes fluttering. "We didn't trigger an Echo."
The archive dissolved.
Not a memory. A loop.
I saw myself. Thrown back by an explosion. Screaming. Dax reaching, face twisted—
Cut.
Again. My hand slipping from his grip. Fire everywhere.
Cut.
A third time. Same blast. Same death. Three times. Three different angles. Three times he watched me die with that chain on his wrist.
The vision snapped. Cold metal floor again. Cold air. His ragged breathing in my ear.
He stared at me like he'd been gutted. He didn't remember. But his body did. His hands were shaking.
"What was that?" he whispered. Voice broken for the first time.
I looked at the chip in my fist. Then at him. The man who'd forgotten my name three times over.
"That was Echo Three," I said. "Dax — you've watched me die three times already—" The lock burned hotter, screaming red, and the vault doors behind us blew open with a hiss