30. Valaria
Valaria
The countdown ticks beneath my skin.
The seconds flash on the screen.
“Less than a minute until what?” I demand.
DON’T AGITATE YOURSELF
The screens keep playing—old footage, files I’ve never seen. My face from every age. My voice–speaking languages I don’t remember. Moments I should’ve owned, but don’t.
“Valaria,” Pietro says, voice low, controlled. “We need to find a way out of here.”
I nod.
But I don’t move.
Because part of me doesn’t want out.
Not until I know what they did to me.
The lights overhead shift.
Soft blue floods the chamber. The screens fade.
A new one blinks on.
A voice hums through the air. Feminine. Familiar.
“CRIMSON ORACLE,” it says. “PROCEED TO CENTER. TESTING SEQUENCE INITIATED.”
0:41
0:40
MOVE TO THE CENTER OF THE ROOM
Pietro swears under his breath. “You are not doing this.”
“Yes,” I whisper. “I am.”
“Val—”
I meet his eyes. “I need to know what they programmed into me. I need to know what they think I am… so I can prove them wrong.”
He looks like he wants to break the door down with his bare hands.
But he steps back.
“I’m not leaving,” he says. “No matter what happens.”
I nod once.
Then walk to the center circle.
0:35
0:34
0:33
The lights sharpen.
A platform rises from the floor. Atop it: a tablet with a biometric scanner. My name is already etched across the glass.
SCAN TO BEGIN.
I place my hand on the pad.
It glows red. Then green.
The screen is no longer silent.
A voice.
Hollow.
Monotone.
COGNITIVE CONDITIONING: ACTIVE.
RESPONSE TESTING: IN PROGRESS.
STRESS PROFILE: ELEVATED.
“Gee, I wonder why,” I mutter.
On the screen: a question. The voice drones.
WHAT IS YOUR DESIGNATION?
0:33
0:32
A blank line blinks beneath it.
“I don’t have one,” I say.
The screen buzzes.
INCORRECT.
TRY AGAIN.
I grit my teeth. “I’m not your tool.”
INCORRECT.
TRY AGAIN.
The room darkens.
A low sound begins—an almost subsonic tone. It pulses through my ribs, my jaw, my temples.
Then—
New screen lights.
Pietro.
Live feed. Standing just feet away. Watching.
WHAT WILL YOU SACRIFICE TO COMPLETE YOUR MISSION?
I stare at the words. The monitor swivels toward Pietro.
“No,” I whisper. “Not him.”
YOU MUST CHOOSE.
I stare at the screen. A monster.
“Shut it down!” Pietro barks, stepping toward me.
0:29
0:28
“Nothing. I won’t sacrifice anything!”
Silence.
The seconds tick off.
0:25
0:24
CHOOSE
“Valaria—don’t listen to them!”
Glass slides up between us—fast. A barrier. Soundproof.
He slams his hand on it.
The voice returns.
CRIMSON ORACLE. CHOOSE.
And I realize?—
This isn’t just about my past.
It’s about whether I’m still theirs.
I step back from the screen.
Raise my chin.
And say, voice clear and sharp as cut glass:
“My name is Valaria Serrano. I run the most powerful communications empire in Europe. I am not a ghost. I am not a program. I am not your goddamn oracle.”
Silence.
Then the screen flashes once.
ERROR.
SUBJECT DEVIATION CONFIRMED.
LOCK RELEASED.
The glass vanishes.
The countdown halts. Flashes red.
0:20
The screens go black.
The glass barrier slips down—maybe into hell.
Pietro rushes forward and catches me as I stagger.
“Are you okay?”
“No,” I breathe. “But I’m free.”
He pulls me into his arms.
And this time, it’s not to protect me.
It’s to hold me.
Because I’m not a weapon.
Not a sleeper.
Not a system to be controlled.
I’m something they never planned for.
A woman who chose herself.
A woman who chooses her own ending.