Sarah's body hit the floor.

Grant dropped beside her immediately.

"No... no, stay with me!"

His hands pressed desperately against the wound.

Blood soaked through his fingers almost instantly.

Theodore grabbed the emergency trauma kit from the wall and slid across the floor.

"Move."

Grant looked up.

"I can stop it."

Theodore cut away Sarah's jacket.

Then froze.

"There isn't an exit wound."

Grant nodded frantically.

"The bullet's still inside."

Theodore's expression changed.

"No..."

"What?"

"This isn't a normal round."

Sarah's heartbeat wasn't slowing.

It had already stopped.

There was no pulse.

No breathing.

Yet...

There was almost no bleeding.

The wound looked strangely clean.

Theodore remembered Rosalie's funeral.

The pressure mark.

The fake death.

The impossible drug.

He looked at Grant.

"Don't call the coroner."

Grant stared.

"What?"

"Not yet."

Before either man could react further...

Sarah's smartwatch vibrated.

Once.

Then again.

Its screen lit up.

BIOLOGICAL RESPONSE INITIATED

A countdown appeared.

09:59

Grant frowned.

"What the hell..."

The countdown began ticking.

09:58.

09:57.

09:56.

Theodore carefully removed the watch.

"It's connected to something."

Grant turned it over.

No manufacturer.

Only a tiny engraved white raven.

Another experiment.

Outside, the gunfire had stopped.

The attackers weren't trying to enter anymore.

They had already accomplished their objective.

Or so they believed.

Grant immediately radioed for backup.

Static.

Nothing else.

Every communication channel was jammed.

Theodore looked at the photograph Sarah had given him.

Six children.

One mansion.

Project Lazarus.

Rosalie at eight years old.

Sebastian.

Alexander.

Three others he didn't recognize.

On the bottom edge, barely visible beneath years of fading, was a handwritten date.

May 14, 2004.

Theodore whispered,

"Rosalie lied to me."

Grant shook his head.

"Or someone made her believe a different life."

The countdown reached 08:41.

Sarah's fingers moved.

Both men froze.

One finger.

Then another.

Grant leaned closer.

"Sarah?"

No response.

Then...

A weak inhale.

Air rushed into her lungs.

Her eyes opened.

Wide.

Terrified.

She wasn't looking at Grant.

She wasn't looking at Theodore.

She was staring at the ceiling.

"No..."

she whispered.

"Not again..."

Grant nearly broke down.

"You're alive."

Sarah turned slowly toward him.

For one brief second...

Recognition filled her eyes.

"Lucas..."

Then...

Everything vanished.

She sat upright violently.

"Who are you?"

Grant's face went pale.

"What?"

She backed away across the floor.

"Don't touch me!"

"It's me!"

"I don't know you!"

Theodore watched carefully.

She wasn't pretending.

Every movement was genuine.

Pure confusion.

Pure fear.

Grant whispered,

"Sarah..."

She interrupted.

"My name isn't Sarah."

Silence.

Then she said something neither man expected.

"My name is..."

She hesitated.

"...Emily Carter."

The room became deathly still.

Grant looked at Theodore.

Theodore looked back.

Neither needed to say it.

Project Lazarus.

Memory.

Identity.

Sarah...

or Emily...

looked around the room as if she'd never seen it before.

"Where am I?"

Grant's voice cracked.

"You don't remember me?"

She shook her head.

Tears filled Grant's eyes.

"No..."

At that exact moment...

Forty miles away...

Emma and Rosalie crawled through another maintenance tunnel.

Behind them echoed shouting.

Search teams.

Dogs.

Footsteps.

Emma suddenly stopped.

Rosalie whispered,

"What?"

Emma looked frightened.

"I can hear them."

Rosalie listened.

Nothing.

"I don't hear anything."

Emma shook her head.

"Not with your ears."

She pressed trembling fingers against her temple.

"They're using the implants."

Rosalie frowned.

"What implants?"

Emma slowly lifted her hair.

Hidden behind her left ear...

A tiny surgical scar.

Barely visible.

Rosalie's blood ran cold.

Mercer's voice suddenly echoed through the tunnel speakers.

Calm.

Patient.

"Emma."

The girl closed her eyes.

"No..."

"You know you can't escape."

Emma covered both ears.

"Stop."

"You know where every tunnel leads."

"Stop!"

"You helped design them."

Rosalie grabbed Emma gently.

"What is he talking about?"

Emma whispered,

"I don't remember."

Then...

"I remember everything."

The little girl began crying.

"I don't know which memories are mine anymore."

Back in Manhattan...

The countdown on Sarah's watch reached 00:00.

The display changed.

A new message appeared.

MEMORY SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE

Sarah...

Emily...

whatever her name truly was...

looked at Grant again.

Her expression softened.

Recognition slowly returned.

"Lucas..."

Grant held his breath.

She smiled faintly.

"I remember."

Relief flooded his face.

Then she finished the sentence.

"...that I was supposed to kill you."

Before either man could react, Sarah drew a compact pistol from an ankle holster and fired.

The shot echoed through the room.

Grant collapsed backward, clutching his shoulder.

Theodore lunged across the desk just as Sarah calmly turned the weapon toward him.

Her face was expressionless.

Cold.

Mechanical.

As though another person had taken control.

She whispered in a flat voice:

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"Directive Seven activated."

Then she pulled the trigger again.