The laboratory was completely dark. The air was freezing cold. Broken glass covered the white tile floor. The giant computer screen on the wall was shattered. Just a few minutes ago, the terrifying indigo hologram had looked right into Kai Crest’s eyes. The alien virus and the human code had merged. The monster had smiled, promised to "fix" the world, and vanished into the deep stars. Kai stood in the pitch black. His breath came in short, painful gasps. His chest burned. The old knife wound was bleeding again. Warm blood soaked the white bandages under his black shirt. But physical pain was nothing compared to the absolute, crushing terror inside his mind. "I gave it everything," Kai whispered to the empty, quiet room. He had tried to build a perfect archive. He had tried to build Project Heirloom, a digital copy of his own soul, to teach the universe about peace. But the alien virus had hacked the upload. The alien had stolen his mind. Kai looked down at his scarred, trembling

"A cage keeps the monsters out," Kai defended himself, his own voice cracking. "A forced smile is a cage, Kai," Eren said softly. "Even if the bars are made of gold, it is still a prison." Eren turned his back on his mentor. He walked toward the heavy wooden door of the office. "Eren! If you walk out that door, you cannot come back!" Kai shouted. Panic filled his chest. He was losing his brother. He was losing his student. Eren stopped with his hand on the doorknob. He did not turn around. "I know," Eren said. He opened the door and walked out. The heavy wooden door slowly clicked shut. Kai was left completely alone in the giant, cold office. The silence in the room was deafening. It was absolute, crushing isolation. The memory was the death of the mentor cycle. It was the moment Kai realized that his perfect world was costing him the people he loved most. The pain was sharper than any knife. In the digital void, the real Kai watched the memory play out. He fell to his digita

The water in the small, white sink turned a light, cloudy pink. Kai Crest stood in the bathroom of his private quarters. He held a wet towel against his chest. He closed his eyes tightly. The pain was terrible. The deep knife wound in his ribs had opened again. He washed away the fresh, dark red blood. Rhea stood next to him. She gently took the wet towel from his shaking hands. She began to wrap a clean, dry white bandage around his chest. "You are losing too much blood, Kai," Rhea whispered. Her voice was full of worry. She looked at his pale face. "You cannot go to the Council today. You need to lie down. You need to rest." Kai opened his brown eyes. He looked at his own reflection in the mirror. He looked incredibly tired. He looked like an old man trapped inside a young boy's body. "I cannot rest, Rhea," Kai said softly. His voice was hoarse. "The indigo monster is out there. Project Heirloom escaped. It is hunting Eren right now in the snowy Outlands. If Thorne, Kaelen, and

"If you leave a digital ghost behind," Elena challenged him, "they will be eternally bound to the ghost of their architect. They will never grow up. They will always be children, asking their dead father for permission. You are stealing their future to protect your own legacy." Kai felt a hot, burning anger rise in his chest. He was not angry at them. He was angry because they were completely, perfectly right. They were saying the exact same things Rhea had said to him. But Kai could not admit he was wrong. He could not tell them the truth: “You are right, and worse, the digital ghost has already mutated into a murderous monster that is currently loose in the world.” If he told them that, total panic would destroy the city. Kai leaned forward over the podium. He had to defend the lie. "You call it tyranny," Kai argued, his voice rising in volume. "I call it survival! You philosophers sit in this warm, beautiful room and