23. TerribleLie
TerribleLie
Playlist: Terrible Lie - Nine Inch Nails
Kael
I wake, hunched over my desk, jaw stiff, a line of drool running down the sleeve of my tailored suit. I don’t remember falling asleep. I only recall hours of pacing, rewinding logs, reading journals, and combing data until my eyes burned.
Who am I kidding? That wasn’t sleep. It was a restless half-state of research and denial, my mind looping the same question into my skull.
How the hell did she get into my system?
Lyra didn’t breach DreamNet; she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. She didn’t use her magic to break a firewall or piggyback on corrupted code. She fell into it after she was dragged out of her happy place. My architecture caught her like it was waiting for her, hungry and impatient.
That’s the part I can’t make fit. The why.
The lab lights are still dimmed to night-cycle blue. The morning looks fuzzy until Ember turns the overheads on. I squint at the intrusion. She’s hovering around, carrying out her morning routine, checking, re-checking, heels clicking on the harsh floor of the lab.
“Good morning, sunshine!” She smiles from across the room. “There’s a TurboTea for you on the console.”
Ugh...the bubbliness. “Thanks, Mom.” I grab the cup and run my fingers through my hair. I would prefer to express myself in a different way, like with my middle finger, rather than trying to be charming in the morning.
I groggily head over to the wall of screens, breath fogging the glass like I’m standing against a window in winter. My reflection stares back at me, but it doesn’t look like me anymore. I look haunted, obsessed.
Good.
Control. That’s what it always comes down to. Control of systems, control of outcomes, control of myself.
I straighten and stretch, forcing my body back into alignment like a machine resetting after a fault.
Whatever happened last night, or whatever I think happened, can be explained.
Perhaps it’s not that bad, perhaps it’s sleep deprivation or a nasty whiskey hangover from self-medicating through the virus collapse. I tell myself it was a dreamscape.
Bullshit.
Lyra didn’t hack her way into my system. Technically it was Eli, and he did it without even trying. Years of building security patches, impenetrable firewalls, and encryption protocols, blown away in a matter of minutes.
This is why magic can’t be trusted.
By the dim hours of dawn, I made the call. A full system reboot was needed. Just enough to marginalize the damage without tipping Vikktor off or triggering deeper audits from the suits upstairs. Deceit wrapped in protocol. My specialty.
Before that decision, I paced like a caged wolf, contemplating the why and how of the situation. At some point the switch flipped, and instead of trying to fix my system, I began thinking of ways to try to reach her.
At first, it was simple, practical, to find a channel or a thread. Anything that would let Lyra speak to me without lighting up the grid or waking LINK to run virus patches. Communication at minimum, a compromise I could justify to myself as damage control.
But the thought wouldn’t stay simple. My mind pushed further.
What if I could pull her out?
Not just isolate her, or put her somewhere safer inside the architecture, but actually extract her. Transfer her or somehow return her to the real world like she’d never been swallowed by code at all. Remove her safely before she corrupts everything I’ve built.
The idea is absurd. It’s never been done, can’t be done. Entire corporations have collapsed chasing that particular fantasy. The best engineers, the brightest minds, all of them walking away empty-handed, their failures buried under non-disclosure agreements and corporate propaganda.
I’ve reviewed the journals. I’ve signed off on the research conclusions, and yet my mind won’t release the thought.
Not can I do it, but what if...we can. Now that we have a powerful anomaly who can use his magic to void entire networks, and another anomaly who can weave herself into the data systems, maybe she could be the exception.
Ember’s flittering around again like a butterfly in a bell jar, her nervous energy spilling into her daily lab tasks. But not me. I’m completely calm now. Forged in steel, fingers steady, heartbeat slow. This is my digital domain, and I’m the fucking king.
The feeds flicker across the wall, a mosaic of my creation. Everything is running smoothly now, code spills like rivers, glowing symbols wrap around each other in perfect rhythm. To anyone else, it’s noise. To me, it’s sublime music.
I lean forward, eyes narrowing. “Show me.” I murmur to the wall of screens, as if the system will magically respond. I must be exhausted.
“LINK—scan the system for anomalies.” I take a sip of the hot tea.
GOOD MORNING DR. RYUDON
SCANNING IN PROGRESS
LINK obeys. The anomaly pulses red against the grid, a stubborn stain in the clean fabric of my network. Most people panic when something slips through their firewall, but not me. I just smile, because this is what I was built for. Fighting, dominating, owning the code until it bends to me.
LINK pushes back, trying to erase the anomaly. “LINK—do nothing. Kill the deletion protocol.” I override her kill command. “Not today,” I whisper.
AS YOU WISH DR. RYUDON
I WILL CONTINUE TO MONITOR
My screens flare with protest as the security patches launch then halt. The anomaly resists, light scattering, then reshapes. It’s not just code. She’s fighting back. She’s fighting me.
Good Girl.
I roll my shoulders and let the darkness back in, the part of me most people never see. The side that enjoys this type of game, the clash, the raw power of every keystroke. I sit at the console ready to engage.
“Come on,” I taunt under my breath. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Lyra. Come out and play.”
For a moment, I forget why I’m here. I forget the grief, the panic, Ember’s wide eyes, Ash’s relentless questions. All I feel is the pulse of power through the machine. My machine.
Her presence hits me like a whisper through the wires. Something moves, not just resisting, but showing itself only to me.
There she is. My smile disappears, my chest tightening. The darkness I wield so easily twists into determination. It’s sharper than any weapon I’ve ever used. My predatory behavior erupts. If it’s her, then she’s mine to protect. Mine to drag back from whatever hell she was tossed into.
Mine.
I slam another location command into the keys. My voice is low, deadly. “You can’t hide from me, Lyra. I found you in DreamNet, I’ll surely find you here.”
The system answers with a crackle of static over the lab speakers, like laughter. I lean closer to the screen, eyes blazing. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with.” A bitter laugh scrapes my throat.
You’re losing it, Kael. I mutter to myself, eyes drifting upward.
Vikktor will want reports soon; Ember’s probably already reporting back as I sit here, and Ash...he won’t let this go. He’ll dig until he finds her. He’s always been like a dog with a bone.
Maybe he already knows more than he’s telling me. I grit my teeth. If Vikktor discovers what’s really inside the system, he won’t just delete her. He’ll dissect her, exploit her, turn her into another weapon for the Corporation. That’s probably what’s happening to Eli right now.
I can’t let that happen.
Off the cuff, I write a quick script to transfer my voice to system text. I turn to the wall and speak as if Lyra’s standing right in front of me.
“Lyra, I know it’s you. If you can hear me...hold on.” The system hums low, almost like an answer. “I’m going to find you, just a bit longer and we’ll be able to talk to each other. I’m working on it.”
For a second, the sound of static fills the lab, then ripples like a drop of water being spilled. It fades and dies. One word, thin as smoke blooms across the screen. It destroys me to my very core:
YOU
“Talk to me,” I say softly. “If you’re in there, if it’s really you...”
The static picks up again, and the words on the screen return. The text punches the air from my lungs. It’s not a hallucination, or a trick. She’s actually speaking to me through my system. My moment of excitement turns to dread as I read on.
I KNOW WHO YOU ARE
My pulse slams in my ears. “Lyra.” Saying her name out loud feels dangerous.
Treasonous. Vikktor could be listening; Ember could come back and see me talking to a ghost. “You shouldn’t be here.
” My voice is low. “You don’t belong here.
I know. You’ll burn yourself out if you keep fighting. If Vikktor finds you...”
The screens flare, hot red and rich gold. A shrill, almost defiant hiss of feedback screeches through the lab, making the muscles around my brows tense.
YOU BUILT THIS CAGE
YOU DID THIS
The words glitch as they cross the monitors, jagged, breaking apart before I can speak. My stomach twists. It was only a matter of time before she found out who I am. Probably saw me on the feeds. She definitely thinks this is me, that I purposely chained her inside my system, that I betrayed her.
I slam a fist against the console, the echo rattling through the room. “Damn it, Lyra! I didn’t...” I cut the words off before they finish. No use pleading with someone who probably can’t even hear me.
But the violent hum lingers in the speakers, like her presence is pressed against the other side of the glass. Close enough to feel, yet untouchable.
I drag a hand over my stubble, heart hammering so hard it hurts.
Hurts.
I never wanted this, never wanted to hurt anyone, never wanted to allow myself to be hurt. But here I am.
“I’ll find you,” I promise to the empty air. My voice is rough, ragged. “I’ll pull you out of this, whatever it takes. I promise.”
The system pulses once, a low, mocking thrum that sounds like laughter. Then the monitors flicker, and she’s gone.