The world around Kiera warped, the Code reshaping the fragments of her reality. For a brief moment, she was disoriented—floating between past and present, truth and illusion. The city skyline in front of her began to sharpen, its towering structures becoming clearer. She could almost reach out and touch them, but it wasn't real. None of it was.
The Marionette Code pulsed through her, wrapping around her mind like a vise, drawing out forgotten memories. The Architects—she had stood with them before, a part of something bigger. A system. A purpose. But it wasn't her. It couldn't be.
Her pulse raced, her vision narrowing.
"Do you remember now?" The Code whispered again, colder this time. The question pierced deep, stirring something long buried. The truth bubbled to the surface—the other Kiera—her double, her mirror—wasn't just a fabrication.
She had been made. Crafted. Programmed. She was the true Kiera—the one who had been designed by the Architects, part of a twisted plan. She had never truly fought against the Code; she had only ever been a part of it. A puppet. A tool.
And then, the walls around her fractured again, breaking into pieces of static and data, the very foundation of the Code crumbling under the weight of that realization. The world split into shards of light. Kiera wasn't just a part of the system. She was the system.
Her knees buckled as she collapsed, the revelation suffocating her. She could feel the Code surging in her veins, reasserting its control, but this time—this time she had a choice.
In the distance, the other Kieras stood in a perfect line, their smiles unwavering, their eyes unblinking, and yet they were all her. All the same. All waiting for her to surrender, to give in to the Code, to let it swallow her whole.
"No," Kiera gasped, her voice hoarse. She pushed herself to her feet, forcing her will against the rising tide of data. She wasn't like them. She wasn't a puppet. She had the choice to destroy the system—or be destroyed by it.
The walls of reality seemed to pulse in time with her heartbeat. She could feel the power of the Code flowing through her like a torrent, but she didn't have to yield.
She was not a creation. She was the creator.
"Let us in." The Kieras' voices echoed, but she turned her back on them, stepping toward the fractures in the Code that swirled like a storm. She clenched her fists, tapping into the depths of her newfound control. She wasn't just an entity within the system—she was the key to breaking it.
With one final breath, she pushed her will forward. Reality shattered. The Code twisted, spiraled, then collapsed on itself.
And then—silence.
Kiera stood alone, the city gone. The skyline dissolved. The Code had no more control over her.
In the distance, Aerin's voice crackled through her earpiece again, filled with desperation. "Kiera! What happened?!"
Kiera's lips curled into a smile. Her voice was steady, resolute. "It's over."
The Code was no longer the puppeteer. She had severed the strings.
And for the first time, Kiera was free.