Silence pressed down on the little cell, its raw concrete walls heavier than any clash of battle. The pale ceiling lamps sputtered intermittently, casting fleeting shadows over the damp, mossy floor. In this cocoon of isolation, every breath boomed like a gong. Mayu sat hunched in a corner, her back pressed against the chill wall. Her hands—wrapped in tattered bandages—rested on her bent knees. Physical pain had faded, replaced by something dull and persistent: the weight of the choices ahead.
She lifted her head when the door clanked open. A guard in light, mechanical armor emerged from the shadows. His face was hidden behind a tinted visor. Without a word, he beckoned Mayu to follow. Each step down the humid corridor scorched her lungs; the air reeked of rust and poorly rinsed disinfectant. Her bare feet slipped on puddles of stagnant water. She barely registered the wetness—her thoughts drifted through shattered memories, vanished faces, and pledges sworn amid smoke and gunfire.
They entered a larger chamber lit by blinking red panels: the interrogation zone. At its center stood a table bolted to the floor, surrounded by empty chairs. To one side, a control terminal displayed a single line:
> Crucial Mission: Destruction of Site Belthar-9.
The guard guided her toward a chair. Mayu sat, her naked hands resting on the metal surface. He turned and locked the door without a word.
Left alone, she listened to her own heart pounding. Moments later, the screen flickered and a grainy figure materialized: Subject 45—her brother in steel and blood—his image wavering as if broadcast from a distant world. His eyes, once amber-hot, looked hollow and exhausted, yet fiercely resolved.
> "Mayu," he said, his voice ragged through the link. "They… they interrogated me. Tested me. But I held on."
Mayu hesitated to speak. She searched his gaze for remnants of the soldier she once knew—the devoted ally, the steadfast shadow. Behind those amber eyes, she glimpsed an anguish beyond words.
> "They plan a tactical nuclear strike on Belthar-9," 45 continued. "It's where they've dumped Project Azur's failures—clones they deemed too unpredictable. They locked you here as their final piece. Me… me they're sending on a suicide mission."
Her blood ran cold. Belthar-9: the subterranean citadel where hundreds of clones had vanished. Somewhere among its ruins, lives might still be saved.
> "They crave purity and control," she whispered. "But those 'failures' are human."
> "I have a plan," 45 said, steeling himself. "I've activated an extraction protocol. You must come. Together, we can stop the strike."
Hope flickered in her chest. The solution lay at the end of this steel-and-lie tunnel. She rose to leap from the chair—when the guard returned, pressing a tranquilizer pistol to her temple.
> "Time's up," he stated mechanically.
The screen blinked out. The door locked again. Mayu slumped back, sweat beading on her brow.
Moments later, the door opened once more. This time Lia and Seth entered, their faces etched with fatigue yet alight with resolve.
> "They've given us a ten-minute window," Lia whispered. "After that, no one leaves."
Mayu sprang up. Her legs screamed, but she nodded.
> "I'll hold it together."
> "We know you will," Seth said, concern flickering in his eyes. "For him, for us… for 45."
They slipped out together, passing the guard who didn't flinch. They had no time for doubt. The next corridor was a gauntlet of cameras and automated turrets. Seth produced a tiny hacking module from his sleeve and interfaced with a wall console. The lights flicked to green.
> "Go!" Lia urged.
Mayu sprinted. Every pounding footstep felt like a blow to her skull, but she clenched her jaw and ignored it. Another electronic lock yielded. She reached the security grille that separated the detention wing from the main gallery. Beyond, 45 waited—pale but alive.
He held out a small device.
> "The access key," he panted.
She took it, heart racing.
> "Perfect."
They pushed through side by side. Seth and Lia covered them, neutralizing two patrol drones with pinpoint shots. The silent emergency alarm flared to life.
> "We have to go now," 45 urged.
They burst into a vast hall bathed in sickly green light. Corridors fanned out on all sides, converging on a giant observation window overlooking Belthar-9's heart. Mayu pressed her forehead to the grime-streaked glass. She saw launching pylons, smoking craters, figures in hazmat suits—and above it all, a huge circular dome buzzing with energy.
> "That's where the nuclear core rests," 45 whispered. "We must infiltrate via the service ducts."
Mayu nodded. "Lead the way."
They slipped into a side conduit. The walls glowed faintly from radiation. Seth checked a Geiger counter—its rapid clicking grew louder with each step.
> "Radiation Level Four," he warned. "If we linger…"
Lia shot him a determined look. "We won't linger."
At the tunnel's end, a metal grille barred their path. 45 placed the device on the lock. A dull click, and it swung open. They emerged onto a spiral staircase dropping straight into Belthar-9's core.
Each landing revealed a more horrifying scene: technicians performing impossible experiments, white coats draping clone corpses under sheets. Mayu looked away, but 45 gripped her shoulder.
> "Save your strength. From here, they'll trigger everything."
At last they reached the launch chamber. A domed chamber hung with cables and control panels—and at its center, a sleek missile aimed skyward. Helmeted soldiers patrolled, oblivious to their arrival.
Seth tapped a terminal: "This is the weapon protocol. I can jam it, stop the countdown—but it'll trigger internal self-destruct. We'll have under two minutes before it blows."
Mayu understood. "Then we must escape before the self-destruct activates."
45 stepped forward, jaw set. "Stay. I can secure the breach."
She shook her head fiercely. "No. We do this together."
He placed a hand on her cheek. "You always choose… brotherhood. Do what you must."
A tear welled in her eye. "We do it together."
Seth glanced at his watch. "Ready?"
Mayu drew a deep breath. "Now."
Seth's fingers flew over the keypad. The screens flickered. The missile shuddered. The countdown froze at 00:01.
Then a deafening siren. Servos grinding as the self-destruct engaged.
> "Two minutes!" Seth shouted.
They turned on their heels and raced down the stairs. The entire structure groaned; warning lights flashed on every floor.
They burst back into the main hall just as the central wall erupted, spewing a cascade of flame and debris. Mayu and 45 glanced at each other.
Then they ran—through shattered doors, into the storm outside.
The torrent of rain lashed them, but fear had been washed away. Each drop scoured ash from their bodies; each step carried them closer to freedom.
As they reached open ground, the horizon blazed with the sun's red dawn. Behind them, Belthar-9 collapsed in a titanic roar, and metal shards and dust soared into the sky.
Panting, they stood side by side, watching the wave of destruction climb. Then Mayu turned to Subject 45.
> "We did it. We stopped the annihilation."
He met her gaze, gratitude shining bright.
> "Thanks to you."
She smiled, exhausted yet triumphant.
> "Together, 45. Together."
On that vow, they stood united as the world rose from the ashes of Belthar.