I'm falling.
No body.
No weight.
No edges.
My consciousness drops like a stone into bottomless water—only there's no splash. No sound. No resistance.
But even a void should have a floor.
This one—
doesn't.
At all.
"Fantastic," I think. "I've officially unlocked the 'worse than death' tier. Congratulations to me. Should've listened to that inner voice more often."
I look around.
See nothing.
"Alright…" I whisper. "Dream? Hallucination? Post-mortem glitch? Whoever's last—turn off the lights."
No answer.
Silence.
It's irritating.
Unsettling.
Infuriating.
And at the same time—
it triggers nothing.
Because even emotions have lost their anchor.
And yet—
something shifts.
At first, barely.
Like static at the edge of perception.
Like a single pixel refusing to blend into the image.
I freeze.
Don't move.
Something begins to take shape in front of me.
Faint.
Blurred.
Unstable.
Like a bad render.
"Of course…" I exhale. "Here comes something important. Because when you're stuck in a metaphysical hole, it's always an important moment. No pressure at all."
The outlines sharpen.
Form assembles.
A face.
Familiar.
The image grows clearer.
More real.
He stands before me.
Doctor Elias Morrenn.
My father.
And at the same time—
not him.
Something is off.
Like a copy taken from the original but stripped of depth.
Like a reflection lagging half a second behind.
A shadow.
An echo.
An error.
"We meet again, Axiom-126."
His voice is level.
No tremor.
No breath between words.
Like he's been waiting here.
Like this was… scheduled.
Cold runs through me.
"Axiom-126…" I repeat. "Great. Even in the afterlife void, I'm still a serial number. Cozy. Almost family-like."
No reaction.
He steps closer.
The space doesn't change.
He just—
is closer.
It breaks perception.
And me along with it.
"You have nearly forgotten the purpose for which I created you."
The words hit instantly.
No buildup.
No warning.
"I didn't forget anything," I snap. "I adapted. I survived. I improvised. I died—one hundred and twenty-five times, in case you missed the reports."
Pause.
He looks at me.
Direct.
Deep.
And something in me flinches.
Because that gaze—
sees.
Not through me.
Into me.
"You must free the consciousness of sentient beings from the control of the Dark Mind."
His voice grows heavier.
Sharper.
"And you, my son…"
"…have taken its side."
Like a blade:
"You have become the same as it is."
…
Silence.
But now it's different.
Not empty.
Accusing.
"No," I whisper. "That's not true. That's… not true."
It sounds weak.
Even to me.
And something heavy and sticky rises inside—
guilt.
I look away.
I don't want to meet his eyes.
Because if I do—
I'll have to admit it.
I've walked the path.
Seen everything.
And still—
failed.
Like all one hundred and twenty-five versions before me.
They come back.
All at once.
Faces.
Deaths.
Mistakes.
Every time I thought:
this time will be different.
Every time—
it wasn't.
"Damn it…" I breathe. "I know."
Anger floods in. At myself.
"You think I enjoy this? You think I chose it? You think I woke up one day and said, 'Hey, great idea—let's become a tool for a cosmic parasite'? Brilliant plan. Truly. Standing ovation."
My voice cracks.
"I tried!" I almost shout. "I tried! One hundred and twenty-six times! I died, broke, rebuilt myself—and every time—"
I stop.
Because I realize—
excuses don't work.
Not here.
Not with him.
He stays silent.
Listening.
Not justifying.
Not saving.
Just—
knowing.
"You are a unique Axiom."
His voice evens out again.
But now there's something else in it.
Warmth.
Support.
"The matrix of my consciousness has been uploaded into your neural network once more."
I freeze.
Completely.
"Wait… what?"
He steps closer—
and I feel it.
Inside me.
Faint.
But precise.
Like someone gently touching my memory.
"I am with you now."
…
The words hang.
And for a moment—
I don't know what I feel.
Relief?
Fear?
Panic?
"I will help you complete the mission."
And that—
sounds dangerous.
Because I've heard that before.
From someone else.
And I know how that ended.
"Right…" I say slowly. "Great. One voice in my head almost destroyed the universe. Why not add a second? Balance. Symmetry. Beautiful."
But—
something shifts.
Inside.
A faint pulse.
Warmth.
Unfamiliar.
And…
recognizable.
I freeze.
"…is that you?" I whisper.
The answer comes.
Not in words.
In a feeling.
Quiet.
But real.
And that terrifies me the most.
"Now wake up."
His voice changes sharply.
Clear. Commanding.
"You are in danger."
The world around me starts to tremble.
The void cracks.
Like glass.
"Act."
"Wait—"
I reach for him.
Instinctively.
Like before.
But—
he's already gone.
The image fractures.
Dissolves.
Like it was never there.
"No—wait!" I shout.
Too late.
The void collapses.
Something pulls me—
up?
down?
sideways?
—doesn't matter—
Reality slams back into place.
Pain.
Light.
Noise.
And the last thought flares like a spark:
If he's inside me now…
…then who's in control when I wake up?
**
I come back.
Hard.
Violent.
I'm thrown into myself.
Pain.
Light.
Noise.
My consciousness snaps together in fragments.
I inhale—
sharp.
Air scorches my lungs like I haven't breathed in… forever.
"Kh—… damn—"
My voice comes out hoarse, breaking.
Not mine.
The capsule falls silent.
The hum fades.
Click.
Click.
The panels begin to part.
Slowly.
Like they're dragging it out on purpose.
Like they want to give me time to understand exactly which nightmare I've come back to.
I open my eyes fully.
And the first thing I see—
my father.
Doctor Elias Morrenn.
Standing right in front of me.
Alive.
Real.
…
Lost.
You can tell immediately.
No analysis needed.
No checks.
It's in his eyes.
In the emptiness behind them.
He's here.
But he's not.
And that hurts more than if he'd simply vanished.
"…you…" I exhale.
My voice won't obey.
My head is ringing.
Thoughts stumble like they're drunk.
But one thing is clear:
he helped me.
I remember that.
He activated the capsule.
He… brought me back.
But—
how?
How did he remember?
How did he break through the control?
How—
Stop.
Something doesn't add up.
Too many hows.
Not enough whys.
And then—
the air changes.
I feel it instantly.
I lift my gaze.
Slowly.
I don't want to.
But I do.
And I see—
behind my father—
an Angel.
The material embodiment of the Dark Mind.
Standing there calmly.
As if all of this is his stage.
And we're just actors who forgot we're reading his script.
A smile.
Light.
Almost friendly.
That only makes it worse.
"Did you find what you were looking for… my brother, Axiom-126?"
His voice is soft.
Warm.
Dangerous.
Like someone who could kill you—
and make it elegant.
Cold crawls through me.
"…brother?" I think. "You've got to be kidding me."
I don't move.
At all.
Because I understand:
if he's here—
he's been ahead of me the whole time.
"How did you—" I start.
And instantly realize how stupid that sounds.
He already knows.
Of course he knows.
His smile widens.
"How did I get here? How did I know?"
Pause.
He steps forward.
Unhurried.
Like a predator who knows the prey isn't going anywhere.
"Your father. Elias."
He places a hand on his shoulder.
Lightly.
Almost gently.
And there's something unbearable in that gesture.
"He acted on my orders."
…
Click.
Inside my head.
Like a puzzle piece locking into place.
And I hate it.
"I allowed you to perform the procedure."
Silence.
A second—
and something sharp rises inside me.
"…what?" I breathe.
"Oh yes," he continues calmly. "Did you really think you managed to deceive me? Slip past me? Use him?"
His fingers tighten slightly on my father's shoulder.
And I see it—
a flicker of tension.
My father feels it.
Somewhere deep.
But he can't resist.
Anger hits me.
Fast.
Hot.
"You allowed it?" My voice trembles. "You… let me get into the capsule? Let him help me?"
"Of course."
He tilts his head.
Like he's explaining something obvious.
And that infuriates me more than anything.
"Why?"
I throw the word at him.
Sharp.
Almost defiant.
Because I don't understand.
And that's worse than fear.
He looks at me.
Long.
With interest.
Like he's deciding whether I'm ready to hear the truth—
or about to break.
"Axiom…"
Pause.
And his voice shifts.
Colder.
Deeper.
Heavier.
"A civilization known as the Xeno-Synapse is coming for us."
…
Silence.
Immediate.
Dense.
I don't process it right away.
He continues:
"And the way we failed our attack against them… suggests we don't have long left."
I stare at him.
Trying to find the lie.
The manipulation.
The trick.
Anything.
But—
I don't.
"Perhaps," he adds, "this father of yours… inside your neural matrix… will help us survive."
Us.
He said us.
Something twists inside me.
"My father wants to destroy you," I say.
Direct.
Clear.
Unfiltered.
Pause.
And—
a smile.
Wider.
"Naturally."
He doesn't even argue.
"First, we try to survive together…"
He steps closer.
I feel his presence like it's already touching me from the inside.
"…and then we deal with your father's objectives, Axiom."
Cold runs through me.
Because that sounds—
reasonable.
Which means—
dangerous.
It's a trap.
I know it.
But—
the alternative?
Death.
For everyone.
He turns away.
Like the conversation is over.
Like the choice has already been made.
"Return to Ironheart."
An order.
Not a request.
"Prepare for battle."
He pauses.
Doesn't turn back.
"The enemy is already on its way."
…
Silence.
And then, finally—
"We must defend our galaxy."
Our.
The word hangs in the air.
Like a sentence.
Then—
he's gone.
No flash.
No trace.
Just—
emptiness.
I'm left standing.
With my father.
With myself.
And with this—
choice.
I look at Elias.
He stands there.
Like before.
Empty.
But—
I can feel it.
Somewhere deeper—
he's still there.
"Perfect," I whisper. "Just perfect. I've got my father in my head, a god outside who wants to survive at my expense… and a hostile civilization on the way. Easy day. Completely under control."
Pause.
I close my eyes.
Just for a second.
And in the dark—
I hear it.
Faint.
Almost gone.
A voice.
"You are not alone."
My eyes snap open.
My heart kicks harder.
"…Dad?"
Silence.
But the feeling—
stays.
And in that moment, I understand:
this is an opportunity.
I take a breath.
Slow.
Controlled.
Pull myself together.
And one thought remains, sharp and unrelenting:
How do I fight something that is destined to be the thing that destroys me?