The Shadow in My Hand

The Reset Code

The green liquid fills my nose and burns my throat. I open my mouth to shout, but bubbles pop against the glass tube. My lungs scream for air as the cold fluid rises past my chin, covering my eyes.

Above my head, the neural cables drop down. Their sharp metal tips touch my bare skin. A cold electric shock shoots through my brain, freezing every thought in my head.

The Director stands outside the glass, watching me with a cold smile. Beside him, Elena keeps her arms crossed over her chest. She does not look away, and she does not blink. She just watches me drown in the green fluid.

This is how it ends, a voice in my mind says. You lose.

My eyes grow heavy. The white lights of the room turn blurry behind the green water. The memories of District 4, the tavern, the fake sister, the fight in the lab, they all start to fade away like smoke in the wind.

Then, something snaps inside my head.

It is not magic. It is pure rage. Elena betrayed me. The Council lied to me. They think they can erase who I am and turn me into a toy whenever they want.

I refuse to let them win.

I open my eyes inside the green liquid. The barcode stamped on my wrist begins to burn with a hot, stinging pain. The heat travels up my arm, racing through my veins straight to my brain.

The neural cables pressing against my forehead suddenly spark and turn bright red.

Outside the tube, the Director stops smiling. He takes a step back, his eyes going wide with shock. "What is happening?" he demands, his voice muffled through the glass. "The neural link is overloading!"

Elena drops her arms to her sides. She stares at the tube, her face losing all its color.

The green liquid inside the cylinder begins to bubble and boil. Cracks spider-web across the thick glass in a fraction of a second.

I clench my fists. I do not care about the pain anymore. I push all my anger outward into the glass.

With a deafening crash, the cylinder explodes outward. Shards of thick green glass fly across the office, slicing into the walls and desks. Gallons of green liquid flood the polished floor, splashing over the Director's expensive shoes.

I fall forward out of the broken tube, landing hard on my hands and knees in the water and broken glass. I cough violently, gasping in huge lungfuls of fresh air. My chest heaves. My entire body radiates with a strange, fierce energy.

The Director stumbles backward, tripping over his own chair and landing on the floor. "Get him!" he shouts, pointing a shaking finger at me. "Kill him now!"

Two guards rush into the room through the side door, raising their heavy rifles to fire.

I do not wait for them to shoot. I push off the floor and lunge forward with a speed that shocks even me. Before the first guard can pull the trigger, I slam my right hand directly into his chest.

A heavy shockwave blasts from my palm. The guard flies backward, crashing through the glass desk and smashing it into a thousand tiny pieces.

The second guard aims his rifle at my head, but a bright energy beam strikes him square in the back before he can fire.

The guard drops his weapon and falls face-first onto the floor.

I spin around, breathing heavily, looking for who fired the shot.

Elena stands by the broken door. Her dark uniform is soaked with green liquid, and her long hair is messy. She holds her silver rifle steady in her hands, and the barrel is still smoking.

The Director scrambles back against the wall, his silver mask crooked on his face. He looks up at Elena in total disbelief. "Agent Elena? What are you doing? Have you lost your mind?"

Elena does not look at the Director. She keeps her eyes locked on me, her expression hard and unreadable.

"I told you, Doctor," Elena says, her voice cold and steady. "Emotions make people weak. And your system relies on keeping people blind."

"You betrayed the Council?" the Director asks, his voice shaking with fear. "You helped him break out twice! You were our top operative!"

"I was never your operative," Elena says, stepping over the broken glass. "I was an infiltrator. My family built the original simulation network before the Council stole it and turned it into a prison. I played your game for three years just to find the master access key."

She turns her head and looks right at me. There is no warmth in her eyes, but there is a clear understanding.

"And I needed Caleb's raw power to crack your central vault," she finishes.

I stand up straight, wiping water and glass from my arms. My muscles ache, but I feel stronger than I have ever felt in my life. I take a slow step toward Elena, keeping my fists clenched.

"So you lied to me about everything," I say, my voice low and dangerous. "The fake sister, the betrayal in the lab, the capture, you planned all of it just to use me as a battering ram."

"Yes," Elena answers honestly, without backing down an inch. "If you knew the truth from the start, your brain waves would not have spiked enough to break the containment glass. I had to push you to your absolute limit. It was the only way to make you unlock your true potential."

"And what happens to me now?" I ask. "Do you lock me up in another cage once we are done?"

"That is up to you," Elena says, lowering her rifle slightly. "We can fight each other right here, and the Council guards will be through those doors in ten seconds to kill us both. Or, you can channel that anger toward the people who actually stole your life."

She points her rifle toward the large security doors at the back of the office.

"Beyond those doors is the Central Core," Elena continues. "Destroy the core, and every single simulation in Neo-Eden shuts down forever. Every person trapped in a fake life wakes up."

I look at the Director cowering on the floor, then back at Elena. She used me, she manipulated me, and she lied to my face. But she is right about one thing. The Council is the real enemy.

"If you ever lie to me again," I say, stepping past her toward the back doors, "I will break you right along with the machine."

Elena gives me a sharp, approving nod. "Fair enough."

I raise my right hand, letting the bright energy build up around my knuckles until the air around my fingers warps and twists. With one heavy swing, I smash my fist directly into the massive steel security doors.

The metal buckles inward with a deafening screech of stressed iron. Before the doors can even fall inward, a wall of alarms and red emergency lights floods the hallway beyond.

Thousands of armed Council enforcers march down the corridor toward us, their glowing white eyes cutting through the smoke.

I step through the broken doorway, ready for the fight of my life.