Requiem: Tale Of The Lone Regressor.

"Now, the next thing on our agenda is finding my sister," Jarad said, his voice low and cold. His teeth clenched as a deadly resolve burned in his eyes. "If even a single hair on her head is harmed, the Orphanage burns to the ground."

'If what the older me said happened to be true then I need to get to Evie as fast as I cyand protect her, choose a different path uh.. easier said than done '

"Then let's move," Frieda replied, already breaking into a sprint. "We might still have time."

The soft glow of the terminal illuminated Evie's face as she leaned against the cold metal wall of her cramped room. She stared at the screen, her fingers idly tapping against her thigh. The message notification blinked, breaking the monotony of the quiet space. Her heart skipped, a mix of relief and apprehension tightening her chest.

It was from him.

Her hand hovered over the screen before she finally tapped it open. The words stared back at her, simple yet weighted with meaning:

Hey Evie, how are you now? I got your message and wanted to check up on you. I'm okay, so you don't need to worry.

Evie exhaled sharply, her lips pressing into a thin line. "You don't need to worry," huh? Easy for you to say, Jarad.

Her fingers curled into fists as she leaned back, her gaze shifting to the worn photo tucked into the edge of her desk—a snapshot from a time long gone. A young Jarad grinned at the camera, his arm slung protectively around her shoulders. She was only six then, and everything still felt... safe.

She blinked away the memory, pulling her focus back to the present. The world wasn't safe anymore. It hadn't been for a long time, especially not since she started digging into the truth about their past.

The message she sent him last week had been a desperate gamble, a flare shot into the dark. She knew the risks—knew it might paint a target on her back—but she couldn't stop herself. She had uncovered too much to stay silent.

Evie opened the comms and began typing a reply.

I'm okay, but you're lying. I know you're not fine, Jarad. I can feel it. You don't have to keep pretending with me. I found something—something about the orphanage, about us. It's bigger than we thought. They're watching me now, but I won't stop. Please, stay safe.

Her fingers hesitated over the send button. A knot formed in her stomach as she stared at the message. Am I dragging him back into the darkness he tried to escape?

She shook her head. If there was one thing she knew about Jarad, it was that he would never let her face this alone. Her brother was the only person left in the world she could trust completely. And for better or worse, they were in this together.

Her thumb pressed send.

---

Evie rose from her seat, her legs restless as she paced the small room. Her eyes flicked toward the door, her mind racing. The walls felt like they were closing in. She needed air, a plan—something to distract herself from the uneasy feeling that every shadow was hiding someone sent to silence her.

She grabbed her jacket, zipping it up as she glanced back at the screen. Jarad's message was still open, a silent reminder of his presence, even if he was miles away.

"Stay safe," she muttered, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. "Easier said than done."

Sliding the knife hidden beneath her bed into her boot, Evie stepped out into the dimly lit hallway. She had work to do. If the people chasing her wanted to keep her silent, they'd have to try a lot harder.

She wouldn't stop until she uncovered the truth. For her sake. For Jarad's. For everyone who had suffered because of them.

The air outside was crisp, biting against Evie's cheeks as she pulled her hood tighter around her face. The streets of the lower district were as bleak as ever, the distant hum of patrol drones cutting through the eerie quiet. The neon signs of rundown shops flickered weakly, casting distorted reflections in the puddles dotting the cracked pavement.

Evie kept her head low, her steps purposeful as she wove through the maze of alleys. This part of the Dome was a world away from the sterile luxury of the upper tiers. Here, survival was a daily fight, and trust was a currency no one could afford.

Her destination was a small, unmarked door tucked behind an abandoned warehouse. She knocked three times, then paused before rapping twice more—a code she hoped still worked.

The door creaked open slightly, a pair of wary eyes peering through the gap. "Evie?"

"It's me," she whispered. "Let me in, Cam."

The door opened wider, and Evie slipped inside, her hand instinctively brushing the handle of the knife in her boot. Cam was a wiry man in his mid-twenties, his face pale and his eyes darting nervously.

"You shouldn't be here," he hissed, locking the door behind her. "Do you know what they'll do if they find out we're working together?"

"They already know," Evie replied, her tone sharp. "That's why I need what you promised me."

Cam flinched, running a hand through his greasy hair. "It's not that simple. This isn't some low-level data hack, Evie. You're poking the beast here. If they catch me—"

"They won't," she interrupted, stepping closer. "Because you're too good for that, right? You said you had the files. I need them, Cam. Now."

He sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "Fine. Wait here."

Evie's eyes followed him as he disappeared into the cluttered back room. The space was a chaotic mess of old tech, stacks of disassembled consoles, and tangled wires. The faint hum of a cooling server filled the silence, amplifying her unease.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours before Cam returned, holding a small data chip. He handed it to her with trembling fingers.

"This is it," he said. "Everything I could find on the orphanage and the T-04 project. But you didn't get it from me, understand?"

Evie pocketed the chip, her heart pounding. "You're a lifesaver, Cam."

"Yeah, well, don't get me killed," he muttered, glancing nervously at the door. "Now go. And be careful, Evie. They don't just silence people—they erase them."

---

Evie stepped back into the night, her mind racing with possibilities. The data chip in her pocket felt heavier than it should, a burden and a lifeline all at once. Whatever was on it, she was certain it held answers.

Answers Jarad deserved to know.

But as she turned the corner, her instincts screamed at her. A shadow moved where it shouldn't have. Her hand shot to her boot, drawing the knife in one fluid motion.

"Who's there?" she demanded, her voice steady despite the hammering of her heart.

Silence.

She took a cautious step forward, her eyes scanning the darkness. A figure emerged, their face obscured by a mask, their stance casual yet menacing.

"Evie," the figure said, their voice distorted. "You've been very busy."

Her grip tightened on the knife. "If you know my name, you know I don't scare easy."

The figure chuckled, a low, mocking sound. "Maybe not. But you should. Hand over the chip, and I'll make this quick."

Evie's jaw clenched. "You'll have to kill me first."

"Your choice," the figure replied, drawing a sleek blade.

Evie didn't wait. She lunged, her blade flashing in the dim light. The figure sidestepped, their movements unnervingly smooth. They countered with a quick strike, forcing Evie to duck and roll, the blade narrowly missing her.

Adrenaline surged as she fought, her strikes fueled by desperation and years of survival on the streets. But her opponent was skilled, their attacks precise and relentless.

A sharp pain bloomed in her side as their blade grazed her, cutting through her jacket. Evie hissed but didn't falter, using the momentum to drive her knife into their arm.

The figure staggered, a curse escaping their lips. "You're more trouble than you're worth."

Before they could recover, Evie turned and ran, clutching her side as blood seeped through her fingers. She darted through the alleys, her breaths ragged, her mind focused on one thought: Get to safety. Get the chip to Jarad.

---

As she finally reached her hideout, Evie slammed the door shut behind her, bolting it tightly. Her body trembled, the adrenaline fading and leaving her painfully aware of the gash on her side.

She collapsed onto her bed, pulling out the data chip with shaking hands. Her vision blurred, but her resolve was clear.

"Jarad," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I hope you're ready for this."