The holographic projection flickered, its soft blue-white glow casting shifting patterns on the cold, metallic walls of the underground hideout. Shadows danced and twisted in its light, distorting the confined space as if the walls were breathing.
The room was silent, save for the faint hum of the recording system and the sound of Alex's heartbeat, a slow, pounding rhythm echoing in his ears.
Alex sat motionless, his breath shallow. His hands gripped his knees so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His muscles were locked, and tension coiling in his limbs like a caged beast ready to spring.
His eyes remained fixed on the wavering figure before him—the woman who had given him life, the mother he had lost. Yet, here she was, her image frozen in time, speaking across the void of the past.
