Epilogue
CIPHER
I stared at the prototype prosthetic on my workbench, thinking about the adjustments needed for the neural interface.
My fingers—well, finger, singular—tapped impatiently on the metal surface.
Two more weeks of this one-armed nonsense.
Two more weeks of mortal healing times because even I couldn’t rush cellular regeneration without serious consequences.
“Just a few more calibrations and—” I reached with my right arm to grab a screwdriver, only to find myself grasping at empty air with a limb that no longer existed below the elbow.
“Goddammit.”
The phantom sensation was maddening. My brain still insisted I had a right hand, still sent signals to fingers that were no longer there. I glared at the stump, wrapped in its compression sleeve.
“You know what? I’m not even supposed to be healing this slowly,” I muttered to myself, grabbing the tool with my left hand instead. “If I just took a higher dose of—”
The intercom buzzed, interrupting my one-sided argument with my missing appendage.
“Boss?” Number Five’s voice crackled through the speaker. “Helios is here to see you.”
“Send him in,” I called out, setting down the screwdriver.
The door slid open with a hiss, and William Evans, Helios, stepped into my workshop.
He was dressed in civilian clothes: jeans, a simple gray t-shirt, and a light jacket. My first thought was that he looked like hell. Sunshine had lost his shine. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, his golden hair was disheveled, and his shoulders slumped forward as if carrying an invisible weight.
“Cipher,” he greeted me, his voice lacking its usual warmth. His eyes immediately went to the empty space where my right arm should have been. “I’m glad you survived your injury.”
I shrugged. “Of course I did. Takes more than a catastrophic energy discharge to put me down.” I didn’t mention the three surgeries or the fact that I’d nearly bled out at the hospital. Again. No need for details.
“Let’s cut to the chase,” I said, gesturing toward a workbench where a black cuff sat on a charging platform. “I’ve made some modifications to one of the cuff prototypes I designed for Annie.”
Helios approached cautiously, staring at the device with equal parts hope and suspicion.
“Since I now know the cuff can hide Annie from Halcyon’s mind, I’ve modified this one to work on you,” I explained, tapping the surface. “So you don’t have to worry about that bastard worming his way back into your brain.”
The Hero’s eyes widened slightly. He reached out tentatively toward the cuff, stopping just short of touching it.
“You made this for me?” His voice was quiet, uncertain. “After everything that happened?”
“Don’t get the wrong idea,” I replied. “I didn’t make it for you.”
“Then why?”
“I made it for Annie’s peace of mind. She worries about you. Doesn’t want to see Halcyon crawl back into your skull and make you his puppet again.”
I didn’t mention the real reason I spent three sleepless nights perfecting the stupid thing. I wanted Helios fixed so Annie would stop thinking about him. Every ounce of concern she wasted on him was an ounce of attention diverted from me and I fucking hated it.
Fixing the Hero meant she could finally stop thinking about him. It eliminated a distraction.
And so I built the cuff to shut that chapter permanently. Once he put the device on his wrist, Annie’s lingering guilt would vanish. She would have no reason to check on him. She would have no reason to spare him a single thought.
There it was. That ugly feeling. Jealousy. I’d never had anything worth being jealous over before Annie. Now I found myself counting the ways she looked at others, measuring the warmth in her voice when she spoke about them.
“She’s a remarkable woman,” Helios said quietly.
“Yes,” I agreed, my voice clipped. “She is.”
I watched Helios’s expression shift, his face taking on that haunted look again.
“She saved me,” he said softly, his voice barely audible.
“She did,” I confirmed, unable to keep the edge from my tone. “And it nearly killed her.”
The sound of her screams still echoed in my nightmares. I’d lost my arm, but I’d nearly lost her.
“I never wanted—” Helios began.
“Look,” I cut him off, my patience wearing thin. “What’s done is done. Just put the damn cuff on so I can make sure it’s calibrated properly.”
I needed him gone. Every second he stood there with that wounded puppy expression made me want to test whether my left hook was as effective as my right had been.
Helios nodded. He slipped the cuff onto his wrist and the device automatically adjusted to fit snugly against his skin.
I reached out with my right hand to grab the calibration tool from the workbench—
“Fuck!” I snatched up the device with my left hand instead, nearly knocking over a cup of tools in the process.
The look of pity that flashed across Helios’s face only intensified my irritation.
“Don’t,” I warned, pointing the calibration tool at him. “Don’t you dare feel sorry for me.”
Helios lifted his hands in a gesture of appeasement, his expression shifting quickly.
“I’d never feel pity for you,” he said, meeting my gaze directly. “I’ve seen what you’re capable of. Even with one arm, you’re still the most dangerous man I know.”
“Fucking good,” I muttered, adjusting my grip on the calibration tool. “Last thing I need is sympathy from someone who glows in the dark.”
I leaned forward, focusing on the cuff now encircling his wrist. The device hummed softly as it powered up, tiny lights along its edge blinking as the systems initialized.
“There,” I said after a few minutes of adjustments. I set down the tool and leaned back, studying my handiwork. “It’ll need periodic recalibration as it learns your specific patterns, but it should hold against anything Halcyon might try for now.”
Helios examined the cuff, turning his wrist. “This is... thank you, Cipher. I know you didn’t have to do this.”
“Like I said, I didn’t do it for you.” I turned back to my workbench.
“I understand.” He hesitated, clearly wanting to say more. “Annie is fortunate to have someone who cares for her the way you do.”
I kept my focus on the prototype in front of me, not bothering to respond. What was there to say? That I’d cut off my other arm too if it meant keeping her safe? That seemed obvious enough without verbalizing it.
“I’ll leave you to your work,” Helios finally said, backing toward the door. “And thank you again.”
I gave him a curt nod, not looking up until I heard the door slide shut behind him. Only then did I let my shoulders slump.
The timer in my head supplied that it was just another hour before Annie would be off work. I needed to wrap things up here and head back to the penthouse.
To our home.
I smiled despite my frustration with the prototype prosthetic. Annie would be there when I got home. Not at the Tower, not at her own apartment, but at our place. The thought still felt novel, precious in its unfamiliarity.
Not counting Menace, who had technically lived with me, but in his own wing of the penthouse, I’d never shared my space with anyone this way before.
Never wanted to. But now I found myself hurrying through tasks that would normally consume my full attention, eager to return to a place made infinitely more valuable by her presence.
Annie would be there, probably curled up on the couch with a book, or sorting through case files, or simply waiting for me. The specifics didn’t matter, just the certainty that when I opened the door, I wouldn’t be walking into an empty space anymore.