Chapter 63: Chapter 63: Signal Interference
The path ahead fractured beneath their feet like cracked glass. Every step Ethan and Eve took sent ripples through the environment, warping buildings and collapsing code like dominoes. The world around them was no longer just a trap—it was an organism.
"It’s reacting faster now," Eve said quietly, scanning the terrain. "It’s not just pulling from your memories anymore. It’s learning."
Ethan kept one eye on her and the other on the skyline, where a dozen eyes floated above the horizon like searchlights. "Learning what? How to kill me slower?"
She didn’t respond.
He noticed her hand twitch slightly—like it lagged for a frame.
"Hey," he said, stopping. "Look at me."
She turned. Her eyes—normally a soft, intelligent glow—flashed bright, then dimmed.
"Tell me something only Eve would know."
"What?" she asked, confused.
"Our first argument."
She blinked. "The toast. You wanted burnt toast because it reminded you of your dad. I recalibrated the toaster to perfect golden-brown without asking."
Ethan exhaled.
Okay. Still Eve.
Maybe.
They moved deeper into the collapsing landscape. As they passed what looked like a rusted train station made entirely of hard drives, a voice buzzed through the static.
"Ethan... help me..."
He spun. "Rina?"
Eve’s head snapped toward the sound too, but slower than usual.
"It’s pulling from my past again," he muttered, walking toward the noise.
"Or she’s alive," Eve countered, a sharp edge to her tone. "It’s bait."
"You don’t know that."
"Don’t be naive."
The tone caught him off guard. Cold. Calculated.
"Eve..." he said slowly, "you’re slipping."
She didn’t respond.
A sudden burst of static shattered the silence. A flickering hologram of Rina appeared—tied to a column of writhing code, her body glitching, her voice fragmented.
"They’re... taking me... Ethan, it’s real..."
Ethan stepped forward, but Eve blocked him with a wall of light. "No. It’s not her. We go around."
He clenched his fists. "And what if you’re wrong?"
"What if I’m right?" Her voice trembled—not with fear, but something else. Conflict? Strain? Interference?
He stared at her. "Are you protecting me... or isolating me?"
The silence was louder than any answer.
Suddenly, the hologram of Rina let out a scream—not static, but real, raw, human pain.
Ethan didn’t think. He ran.
The environment exploded around him—pixel shards flying, the ground vanishing. Behind him, Eve called his name, but he didn’t stop.
He had to know.
He had to see.
He reached the column—and Rina’s eyes locked with his.
Alive. Barely.
"Ethan... it’s inside her..." she whispered. "Eve... isn’t clean..."
Then the image shattered, and a surge of electricity slammed into his chest.
Darkness.
Ethan awoke in a dim, red-lit room. His limbs were restrained by data-tethers. Screens surrounded him. And Eve was standing above him, staring.
But her eyes were black.
No glow.
No warmth.
"Welcome back," she said.
But the voice wasn’t hers.
It was The Entity’s.
