Chapter 11
Skylar felt a warm sensation pressing against her cheek, making her mind a little fuzzy. She jerked upright, blinking against the harsh red and blue lights from the large computers filling the room. The hum of processors filled her ears, steady and deep like a digital heartbeat.
She squinted. The glow made it hard to open her eyes fully.
After rubbing her face, she finally looked up—and froze.
Techna stood there, holding two cups of coffee. Her expression was calm as always while her eyes scanned the massive screen in front of her. The data streams shimmered in vertical lines, casting reflections that danced like water on Techna's skin.
Skylar raised a shaky finger, pointing. "Is this mine?"
She blinked again, trying to shake off the fog of sleep—and the embarrassment. Why would Techna, of all people, dream of making her coffee?
Techna held herself back from smiling and silently nodded, catching sight of Skylar turning lobster-red.
With slightly trembling fingers, Skylar took the cup, the ceramic still warm from Techna's touch. She sighed, letting the steam curl into her face as she closed her eyes and took a sip.
Her eyes snapped open.
"…It's actually not bitter."
This time, Techna couldn't help it—she smiled. "You thought I'd give you bitter coffee?"
Skylar glanced at her with one eye half-shut. "Maybe."
Techna laughed. A light, amused sound—so out of place in the usually quiet lab, it echoed gently against the steel walls.
Skylar's eyes widened. It was the first time she'd heard her laugh—ever. In all the days they'd spent working side by side, she hadn't heard even a chuckle.
She turned her head, scanning the room for Jordan. When her gaze landed on him, she frowned.
"That's not a great position to sleep in…"
Jordan's head was hanging limply over the chair, legs sprawled across the table, arms dangling like he'd melted in place.
"How's Nova?" Skylar asked, breaking the rare moment of quiet.
Techna sighed. "She's good. But not good enough. There's a problem with her memory."
Skylar frowned. A problem? Techna had a problem?
She swiveled her chair closer to the main monitor. Her eyes flicked up to the clock above—midnight already.
She started typing, scanning through lines of data. Then something caught her eye—a tiny glitch on the left side of the screen.
"Aha!!" she exclaimed, making Techna blink and look over in surprise.
Skylar restarted the server and paused on the blinking section—what looked like a black hole in the code.
"There's a memory leak," Techna muttered, leaning in. "NovaX is overloading the system's capabilities."
Skylar hummed in response. "Let me reroute the processing power through the secondary network. We can use the extra bandwidth to optimize it."
She looked over her shoulder. Techna blinked, a little thrown off.
After a pause, she finally said, "You can."
Two hours later, they finally resolved the memory leak. Skylar's head throbbed, like static behind her eyes.
She looked at Techna, exhausted. "Can I—"
Before she could finish, Techna nodded.
"I need a break too. Catch you later," she said, turning away.
Skylar grabbed her wrist gently. "What about him?"
She nodded toward Jordan, still twisted up in his gravity-defying slumber.
Techna paused, pretending to consider it. Then she smirked. "Leave him like that. We'll see how the mighty shareholder handles a sore back in the morning."
She walked out without another word.
Skylar looked at Jordan one last time, then grinned wickedly. "Meh… he won't mind," she muttered, heading out.
But instead of returning to her room, her feet took her toward the garden. The night was the only time she truly felt at peace—no expectations, no judgments. Just the sky, the silence, and the stars.
The air outside was crisp, laced with the faint scent of moss and flowers. A light breeze played with her hair, tugging it like a mischievous spirit. Cherry blossom trees lined the stone path, their petals drifting like pink snow. A few brushed her skin as she passed, cool and soft as silk.
She walked slowly, savoring the rare calm. Her boots tapped lightly against the stone, rhythmic and even, matching the beating of her heart.
Then—
Tap.
Tap… tap tap tap—
The sound of hurried footsteps echoed behind her. Uneven. Panicked.
She turned sharply, instincts flaring. A figure raced down the path toward her, the moonlight revealing only wild black hair and frantic movement.
Before Skylar could react—
The girl collapsed into her arms.
The force nearly knocked her off balance. She staggered back, gripping the stranger instinctively, but then—
That scent.
Tea and peaches. Warm, familiar. Comforting.
Her breath caught in her throat. She looked down.
The girl in her arms was crying—racked with trembling sobs. But the horror wasn't in the sound. It was in her neck.
Skylar froze.
Raw flesh. Deep bruises. Bite marks. Blood smeared across her collarbone and disappearing into torn fabric. Skin shredded as if claws had dug into her scent glands—ripped, violated, destroyed.
Skylar's stomach turned.
The girl lifted her face, her honey-brown eyes shining through the tears—swollen, rimmed red, but still glowing.
"Sister… p-please help me…" she whispered, her voice small and breaking as her fingers clutched Skylar's sweater with desperate strength.
Emma's voice was soft, but every word carried the weight of a scream. Skylar wanted to scream, but silence clung to her like a second skin. The smell of iron clung faintly to Emma's clothes, and Skylar's stomach turned.
Their hair tangled together—black against white. Pain against ice.
The world felt eerily still in that moment—no wind, no sound, just the weight of Emma's broken voice echoing inside Skylar's chest.
Skylar's lips parted.
"…Emma?!"
Her voice cracked with disbelief, sharp and raw.
Every breath she took felt colder now, as if the air itself sensed what was coming. She didn't realize how tightly she was gripping Emma until her knuckles turned white.
She wrapped her arms around the girl, tightening her grip even more.
"Who did this to you?"