You don't destroy power with fists. You destroy it with the truth… whispered loud enough for the world to hear it over the noise of applause.
Scene: Concord Broadcast Room – Midday
The program was scheduled as light viewing.
"Tomorrow's Ethics: The Future of Hero Tech" — a feel-good segment streamed to all Academy terminals and Concord-affiliated public school networks. It featured soft interviews, corporate nods, and staged youth "panelists" with pre-cleared questions.
Gemini was the guest.
Real name: Dr. Vessa Aline.
Her Zodiac title wasn't combat-based. She wasn't a fighter. She was a design lead for neural augmentations and emotional A.I. filters.
The woman who wrote Ava's mimicry code.
She sat in a pristine white chair.
Smiling.
Gesturing confidently to a screen behind her.
"We believe emotional sync-threads can help stabilize PTSD for young cadets. Even potentially predict violent outbursts—"
Then the feed flickered.
Once.
Twice.
The image cut to black.
The studio lights stayed on.
The guests froze.
The drones spun toward the stage.
And then the screen came back.
Not with the show.
But with a video file.
Labeled:
Ava Spire – Audio Corruption Clip 17C – DO NOT PLAY[CLASSIFIED: INTERNAL ONLY]
And it played.
Video Feed
Ava sat in a white room.
Alone.
The lights were too bright. The camera feed glitched. She wasn't moving like herself.
She twitched.
Then began to speak.
"My name is Ava."
A pause.
"My name is Tessa Rye."
A beat.
"My name is Tessa Rye."
Her voice cracked.
"Tessa Rye. I love— I love— I…"
Her hands shook.
She looked at the mirror in the room.
"Why won't he look at me like he used to?"
The recording skipped.
"I AM TESSA. I AM TESSA. I AM—"
Cut to black.
The live feed was silent.
Gemini's expression didn't change — not outwardly.
But her pupils dilated.
Because the segment wasn't over.
Scene: Studio Live – Feed Hijack Continues
The screen now showed her own handwriting.
Scanned pages from a field notebook. Private logs. Never submitted to Concord servers.
Rook had stolen them six months ago.
Now he broadcasted them.
The lines were clean, black ink, underlined three times:
"Subject 47-B must achieve emotional overwrite before target bonds with Rye.""Failing overwrite, terminate clone. Deploy Plan Theta.""Do not allow Rye to become Rook's anchor. It weakens vector aggression."
The room erupted.
Scene: Rook's Command Feed – Offsite
Rook watched the fallout in silence.
Not from his dorm.
Not from the tower.
From a mobile substation, encrypted, cloaked in a blind spot under Sector 4's unused supply tunnels.
Aya sat beside him, helmet still on from breach duty.
"She's finished," she muttered.
"No," Rook said.
"She's begun to bleed.Now we wait for the predators to turn on her."
Scene: Dorm 103 – Tessa's POV
Tessa saw it all.
She hadn't known what Rook was planning.
She hadn't agreed.
But when the screen showed Ava's collapse…When Gemini's notes filled the feed…
She didn't look away.
She stared at Ava's breakdown, Ava's confusion, Ava's programmed sorrow.
And she felt no victory.
Only a bone-deep ache.
Because that was almost her.
Her face.
Her memory.
Used like a trigger.
Scene: Ava's Quarters – Same Time
She watched herself unravel.
Watched her fake-sister identity die in public.
Watched the face that was never hers become a headline.
And deep inside…
The part of her still wanted to be Tessa.
But it was gone now.
And the echo was collapsing.
Scene: Final Line
In the dark, Rook closed the terminal.
He stood.
Looked to Aya.
"To the next name?"
Aya nodded.
Rook opened a fresh file.
Typed one line:
Zodiac: Libra. Social systems engineer. Public perception strategist.
Next to it:
"Let's see how he handles the smell of rot behind the smile."