The morning after the confrontation was unnaturally quiet.
Despite the destruction caused by the psionic shockwave, no second wave of enemies came. No sirens. No retaliation. Only the gentle whisper of the wind brushing against shattered windows.
Inside the estate, Mira sat beside Lian's bed. He was still fast asleep, his face calmer than she'd seen in days. Whatever that power was—whatever they'd done together—it had exhausted him.
Alina stood in the doorway, watching.
"You protected him," she said.
"I didn't do it alone," Mira replied. "He was the source."
Alina nodded slowly, then walked into the room, eyes scanning the younger boy. "He's stronger than any of us expected. But that strength is going to make him a target."
"I know."
"Then we need to move. Again."
Mira sighed. "We can't keep running forever."
"Then let's change the rules," Alina said.
Down in the underground lab, Dr. Marceau was re-running the energy readings from the incident. Silver pulses flashed across the screen in waves, symmetrical and precise.
"It's not random," he muttered. "It's a pattern—almost like a language."
Rafe stood behind him, arms crossed. "Can we use it?"
"Maybe," Marceau replied. "But we need Mira and Lian both. The resonance only works when they're together."
Rafe grinned slightly. "Sounds like they're the key to flipping the table."
Mira paced the war room later that evening, Leonard and Alina on either side of the digital table.
"Elara won't stop," Mira said. "Even if we destroy her drones, even if we hide in a different country every week. She'll keep hunting."
Leonard nodded. "Because you're not just valuable, Mira. You're revolutionary."
"And she wants to control that revolution," Alina added. "Or kill it."
A low beep came from the console—an encrypted call request. Everyone tensed.
"Source?" Leonard asked.
"Untraceable," Rafe said. "But it's using a code from Elara's old diplomat archives."
Alina's eyes narrowed. "Put it through."
The screen lit up—static at first. Then a face emerged.
Not Elara. Not her voice either.
It was a man, early forties, sharp features, with the cold gaze of someone who never asked for permission to take power.
"Good evening," he said smoothly. "My name is Darius Murnau. I represent the Outer Council."
Leonard swore under his breath. "That's impossible. The Outer Council hasn't been active since the Coalition War."
"Let's just say we've been watching," Darius replied, his voice measured. "And we're very interested in your... children."
Alina stepped forward. "They're not weapons."
"Of course not," Darius said, smiling thinly. "They're catalysts. We don't intend to harm them. In fact, I'm offering protection."
"What's the catch?" Mira asked.
Darius looked directly at her.
"I want your cooperation. You and your brother come under the Council's care. You'll be safe. Respected. Nurtured."
"And in return?" she asked coldly.
"You help us dismantle Elara's regime."
A long silence followed.
Mira glanced at Leonard, then at Alina. Then back at the screen.
"I'll think about it."
Later, after the call ended, Mira stood in the hallway, staring at the wall. Her heart was a storm.
Lian approached, now awake and alert. He touched her hand lightly.
"You're afraid," he said.
She didn't deny it.
"There's something about that man," she whispered. "Something worse than Elara."
"Then don't go," Lian said.
She turned to him. "We might not have a choice."
"Yes, we do," he said. "We always have a choice."
That night, Mira entered the control room alone. The lights were dim, and the air buzzed with static from the overloaded systems. She sat in front of the console and opened a hidden file—one only she had access to.
Inside were videos.
Test footage. Elara's lab. Old experiments.
The moment of her escape.
And something she'd tried hard to forget: a file titled "Prototype_Zero_Revival."
She clicked on it.
A video began to play.
And her breath caught.
The child on the screen wasn't Lian.
It was her.
Younger. Smaller. Eyes wide with fear.
Elara's voice echoed in the background:
"We must split the core. The link will survive. One must be the vessel, the other the trigger."
"What if it fails?"
"Then we'll rebuild from the surviving twin."
Mira's hands trembled. Her knees buckled. She sank into the chair, the truth burning behind her eyes.
Lian wasn't just her brother.
He was her mirror.
Her other half.
The next morning, Mira didn't speak to anyone.
She spent time with Lian, teaching him how to feel the energy without fear. They sat in the library, hands touching, eyes closed.
She could feel it now—faint pulses in their palms. Like heartbeat echoes shared between two souls.
"Do you ever wonder what we really are?" he asked.
"All the time," she replied.
He smiled. "You're my sister. That's enough for me."
But for Mira, it wasn't enough anymore. The truth had teeth now. And it wouldn't stop biting.
She returned to the lab and confronted Dr. Marceau.
"You knew."
He didn't pretend to be confused. "Yes."
"You knew they split me. That Lian was made from me."
"Yes," he said again, gently.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I didn't know how to explain it to a child who already bore too many scars."
Mira turned away, struggling to breathe.
Dr. Marceau added, "He's not a clone. He's not a copy. He's a part of you—but he is himself."
"And what happens if we sync completely?" she asked bitterly. "Do we stay two people? Or become one?"
"I don't know," he whispered.
That evening, Darius called again.
This time, Mira answered alone.
"No deal," she said before he could speak.
Darius didn't flinch. "Why?"
"Because you don't want to protect us. You want to use us. Just like Elara did."
Darius smiled thinly. "Then you leave me no choice."
The screen went black.
And alarms began to scream.
The estate was under siege.
Not by drones. Not by scouts.
But by a full-scale assault.
Ground troops. Gunships. Signal jammers. Psionic disruptors.
Leonard barked orders. Alina grabbed weapons. Rafe locked down the command room.
Mira ran for Lian.
He met her at the stairs, already glowing faintly.
"I felt it," he said. "Before the alarms."
"Then we do this together," Mira said.
They moved as one—through the halls, through fire and smoke, bypassing troops and avoiding blasts.
The walls began to shake.
But they weren't afraid.
Because they weren't alone.
In the heart of the estate, beneath the main control chamber, lay a forgotten room. A chamber of mirrors, used once for psionic resonance tests.
Mira and Lian entered together.
As the troops broke through the final barriers, Mira knelt beside him.
"Close your eyes," she whispered.
He did.
And the world began to bend.
From outside, the entire estate lit up like a nova—blinding silver and white. The air cracked with electricity. The snow evaporated in a rush of heat.
Every invader was thrown back—unharmed, but erased from the interior.
And in the center of it all, Mira and Lian stood, surrounded by a cocoon of living light.
Unbreakable.
Unyielding.
And rising.