CHAPTER 9: THREE MINUTES BEFORE THE PURGE
The first chamber filled with white gas.
Then the second.
Then the third.
A mechanical voice echoed through the laboratory.
“Facility purge initiated.”
My daughter screamed.
“Mommy!”
I pulled her toward me.
“Stay close!”
My son grabbed my other hand.
The other boy stood several feet away, watching the gas rise inside the glass chambers.
For the first time, he didn't look confident.
He looked afraid.
Marcus ran toward the main door.
Locked.
He slammed his shoulder against it.
Nothing.
“Three minutes,” he muttered.
Daniel looked around desperately.
“There has to be an emergency release.”
Marcus turned.
“Where?”
Daniel pointed toward the control room.
“Behind that wall.”
Marcus ran.
I followed.
“Claire, stay with the children!”
“I've spent ten years following other people's instructions.”
I kept moving.
“I'm done.”
We reached the control room.
Daniel entered a code.
The screen flashed red.
ACCESS DENIED.
He tried again.
Nothing.
Marcus looked at him.
“You've been here before.”
“Yes.”
“Then open it.”
“I don't have the authority.”
Marcus stared at him.
“You brought us into a death trap.”
Daniel's face tightened.
“I thought the facility had been abandoned.”
“You thought wrong.”
The countdown continued.
02:21
02:20
02:19
My daughter suddenly grabbed my sleeve.
“Mommy.”
“What?”
She pointed at the wall.
“There.”
A small panel had opened.
Inside was a fingerprint scanner.
My son stepped closer.
“I know that.”
“What?”
He touched his forehead.
“I've seen it before.”
“When?”
“In the cold room.”
I looked at the scanner.
“Try it.”
He placed his hand against it.
The light turned green.
The wall opened.
A hidden staircase appeared.
Marcus stared.
“How did a ten-year-old know that?”
Daniel whispered:
“Because someone taught him.”
My son looked at him.
“Who?”
Daniel didn't answer.
The other boy suddenly spoke.
“I did.”
Everyone turned.
He stepped toward us.
“I taught him.”
My son stared.
“When?”
“When we were little.”
“You were locked up too?”
The boy nodded.
“We were together.”
My daughter interrupted.
“No.”
She shook her head.
“You weren't.”
The boy looked at her.
“You don't remember.”
“I remember everything.”
“No, you don't.”
He stepped closer.
“You remember what they wanted you to remember.”
My daughter backed away.
I stepped between them.
“Enough.”
The countdown reached two minutes.
01:59
01:58
We descended the hidden stairs.
The air became colder.
At the bottom was a circular room.
In the center stood a massive steel door.
No keypad.
No lock.
Just a black circle with three vertical lines.
The same symbol.
Marcus stared at it.
“This is it.”
“The vault?”
Daniel nodded.
“Your father's vault.”
I looked at the children.
“What opens it?”
Daniel pointed toward my son.
“He does.”
My son shook his head.
“No.”
Then the other boy said:
“Not him.”
Everyone looked at him.
“Me.”
My stomach tightened.
“Why?”
He placed his palm against the symbol.
Nothing happened.
He smiled.
“Because I'm the original.”
The door remained closed.
He frowned.
Then my daughter stepped forward.
She touched the symbol.
Nothing.
My son looked at both of them.
Then slowly placed his hand against the center.
The door unlocked.
Everyone froze.
The boy's face changed.
My daughter whispered:
“He's the one.”
I stared at my son.
“What does that mean?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know.”
The door opened.
Inside was a small room.
No gold.
No money.
No weapons.
Just a single desk.
On it was an old cassette recorder.
Beside it was a handwritten letter.
I picked it up.
My father's handwriting.
My hands began shaking.
Claire,
If you're reading this, they have found the children.
I stopped.
Marcus looked over my shoulder.
I continued.
Do not trust Richard Cross.
Do not trust Daniel.
My heart tightened.
I looked at my husband.
He lowered his eyes.
I kept reading.
Most importantly, do not trust the child who claims to be the original.
I looked toward the other boy.
His face went pale.
He stepped backward.
“No.”
My father continued:
There was never an original child.
My breath caught.
The boy shook his head.
“That's not true.”
I read faster.
Project Mirror was not designed to create copies.
It was designed to transfer memories.
Marcus stared at the letter.
“Memory transfer?”
I nodded.
The next line made my hands freeze.
They wanted to transfer one person's memories into another child's body.
My daughter whispered:
“Whose memories?”
I turned the page.
There was only one sentence.
Richard Cross's.
Silence.
The other boy suddenly smiled.
Not like a child.
Like a man.
He looked at us.
Then laughed.
“I told you.”
Marcus raised his weapon.
“Get down.”
The boy didn't move.
“You've been searching for the wrong enemy.”
My daughter stepped backward.
“You're not my brother.”
The boy looked at her.
“No.”
He smiled.
“I'm much older.”
My stomach dropped.
The countdown reached:
00:59
The facility shook.
Dust fell from the ceiling.
Marcus shouted:
“We have less than a minute!”
I grabbed my children.
“Move!”
But the boy blocked the doorway.
“You're not leaving.”
Marcus aimed his weapon.
“Step aside.”
The boy smiled.
“Shoot me.”
Marcus hesitated.
“Do it.”
Then the boy whispered:
“You'll destroy the only body capable of opening the final archive.”
My eyes narrowed.
“What archive?”
He looked at me.
“The archive containing the truth about your father.”
The room shook again.
I looked at the letter.
My father had written one final line.
I hadn't noticed it.
It was hidden beneath the fold.
Claire, there is one thing I never told you.
I unfolded it.
You were part of Project Mirror too.
My breath stopped.
“No.”
Daniel whispered:
“Claire…”
I looked at him.
“You knew?”
He shook his head.
“I swear.”
The other boy laughed.
“He didn't.”
He looked at me.
“Your father erased your memories.”
I couldn't breathe.
“Why?”
“Because you saw what happened.”
“What happened?”
The boy smiled.
“You saw them take your daughter.”
My knees weakened.
“No.”
“You tried to stop them.”
“No.”
“They erased your memories.”
I looked at my son.
Then my daughter.
Fragments began flashing through my mind.
A hospital room.
Red lights.
A crying baby.
A man in a black coat.
Daniel screaming.
My father holding my shoulders.
Someone injecting something into my arm.
And a voice whispering:
Forget.
I grabbed my head.
“No!”
Marcus caught me.
“Claire!”
My vision blurred.
I remembered.
I remembered everything.
The night my daughter was born.
The second baby.
The exchange.
Richard.
Daniel.
My father's vault.
And one final thing.
The person who ordered it all.
I looked at Daniel.
He was crying.
I whispered:
“It was you.”
He shook his head violently.
“No.”
“You were the one who called them.”
“I was forced.”
“You brought them to the hospital.”
“I was trying to save you!”
“You gave them our daughter!”
“I thought they would kill you!”
The facility shook again.
The countdown reached:
00:20
The other boy smiled.
“Too late.”
Marcus shouted:
“Everybody out!”
We ran.
But my daughter stopped.
She was staring at the wall.
“What?”
She pointed.
A hidden compartment had opened.
Inside was a small black box.
She whispered:
“That's what they came for.”
I grabbed it.
“What is it?”
My father's voice suddenly played from the cassette recorder.
His recorded voice filled the vault.
“Claire…”
I froze.
“If you have reached this room, then my final contingency has failed.”
I listened.
“I need you to understand one thing.”
A pause.
“The children were never the experiment.”
My heart stopped.
“They were the witnesses.”
Marcus stared at me.
“What did they witness?”
My father's voice continued.
“They saw who ordered the murders.”
The lights flickered.
Then his final words played.
“And Claire…”
I held my breath.
“The person who ordered everything…”
The recording cut out.
The facility shook violently.
00:05
00:04
00:03
00:02
00:01
The entire building went dark.
Then came an explosion.
The floor disappeared beneath us.
I screamed.
My children vanished from my hands.
And when I opened my eyes again…
I was alone in the darkness.
Except for one voice.
My daughter's.
Whispering somewhere beneath me:
“Mommy…”
Then another voice answered.
A man's voice.
“She's awake.”
May you like
Richard.
And he was standing right behind me.
