Elara couldn't breathe.
Subject Nine stared at her with eyes she knew too well. Not just in color, but in how they held a storm behind their calm. The kind of storm she had seen in her own reflection for years.
Damien's voice was low but sharp. "We're surrounded. Four, no, five, Replicants. Armed. Watching."
Nova lifted her rifle slowly, her eyes not leaving the flickering shadows. "This is a trap."
Subject Nine looked horrified. "No! I didn't bring them, I swear! They just… follow. They always follow."
Elara stepped closer, her voice trembling but firm. "Why do you look like me?"
His lips parted, confusion overtaking fear. "Because I was made from you."
Behind them, a cold mechanical voice sliced through the air like a knife:
"Target Elara-Prime located. Orders updated: Extraction and elimination of rogue units."
The Replicants stepped forward in unison, perfectly synchronized, like nightmare ballet dancers with weapons for hands.
Valen shoved Elara behind him. "Time to run."
The firefight erupted like a match dropped into dry tinder.
Plasma bolts hissed past their ears as the group dove behind steel crates and frost-coated walls. Damien returned fire, his rifle barking like an angry beast. Nova swept a Replicant's legs with precision and a string of muttered curses about "cold planets" and "damn family reunions."
Elara didn't fire. She couldn't. Not while Subject Nine stood there, unsure whether to run or reach out.
"Come with us!" she shouted.
He blinked. "I don't know who I am."
"Then find out with me!"
That did it. He bolted toward her, ducking fire. One Replicant lunged, but Valen tackled it mid-air, twisting its head with a brutal crunch.
They escaped through the side tunnel Damien had noticed earlier, a collapsed maintenance shaft barely wide enough for one person.
Subject Nine stumbled beside Elara as they ran. "I dreamed about you. Every night. A girl with fire in her hands. A face like mine. They told me it was a glitch."
Elara's heart broke a little. "It wasn't. It was memory."
Back aboard the Wraith, silence fell hard.
Subject Nine, who now went by "Aeron," after a name he remembered from a dream, sat curled in a blanket, staring at the stars like they might spell out the answers.
Nova paced. "We need to move. They'll trace our jump in under six hours."
Damien crossed his arms. "And go where? We've got half the Republic after us, Replicants on our tail, and now a wildcard on board who shares Elara's DNA."
Elara sat beside Aeron. "He's not a wildcard. He's proof."
Valen stood nearby, arms folded. "Proof of what?"
"That I wasn't the only one," she said. "That maybe they made more. That maybe there's a plan behind all of this."
Valen looked at Aeron. "And what if that plan was to use you both as weapons?"
Elara's voice didn't waver. "Then we break the plan."
Aeron looked at her, eyes wide. "Even if I'm dangerous?"
Elara took his hand gently. "Especially if you are."
Later that night, Elara found Valen sitting in the dark corridor, eyes closed, shoulders tense.
"You think I'm too trusting," she said, sliding down the wall beside him.
Valen opened one eye. "I think you see the best in people. Even when you shouldn't."
"Is that a flaw?"
He hesitated. "It's terrifying."
She chuckled. "Good. That means I'm still human."
He looked at her now, really looked. "You're not like anyone I've ever met."
"That's because I wasn't born. I was built."
"I don't care what made you," he said quietly. "I care about who you are."
She smiled, tired but genuine. "You're not so bad for a guy who once pointed a gun at me."
He smirked. "You deserved it."
"I did not."
"You broke into my ship."
"Your ship was ugly."
They laughed softly, and for a moment, the war slipped away.
But peace never lasted long on the Wraith.
Aeron screamed in his sleep, voice cracking through the hull like glass under pressure. The crew rushed in.
He stood, shaking, eyes glowing faintly. "They're calling me."
Elara froze. "Who?"
"The Architects. The ones who built the Replicants. The ones who made you. They're waking up."
Valen stepped forward. "What does that mean?"
Aeron looked up, tears in his eyes.
"It means… we were never the endgame. We were the beginning."