Chapter 65 —
Lyra's POV
I wasn't alone.
The realization settled over me slowly.
Coldly.
Like ice creeping beneath skin.
The door hadn't slammed because of wind.
This place was sealed.
Abandoned.
Dead.
Which meant—
Someone else was here.
I straightened immediately.
Instinct replaced fear.
Fear got people killed.
I scanned the room.
Empty.
Silent.
Too silent.
The projector screen flickered once before shutting off completely.
Darkness swallowed half the room.
My pulse remained steady.
Years ago, I would've panicked.
Years ago, I would've run.
Not anymore.
I slowly reached inside my coat.
The familiar weight of my gun settled into my palm.
Better.
Much better.
The corridor outside stretched endlessly.
No movement.
No sound.
Yet every nerve in my body screamed the same warning.
Leave.
I ignored it.
Instead, I gathered every file I could carry.
Especially the one labeled:
SUBJECT 07 — LYRA VALE
If someone wanted me ignorant, this file mattered.
I had barely stepped into the hallway when the lights died.
Completely.
Darkness.
Absolute.
My breathing hitched.
Then—
A child's laughter echoed somewhere deep inside the facility.
Soft.
Distant.
Impossible.
I froze.
No.
No, I knew that laugh.
I knew it.
A memory surfaced.
A little girl chasing butterflies.
Dark curls.
A bright smile.
"Lyra! Wait for me!"
Ally.
My grip tightened around the gun.
"Who's there?" My voice cut through the darkness.
Silence answered.
Then—
Footsteps.
Slow.
Measured.
Coming closer.
I raised the weapon instantly.
The emergency lights suddenly flickered on.
Red.
Everything turned red.
And at the end of the hallway—
Someone stood.
Tall.
Motionless.
Wearing a golden mask.
My heart stopped.
Golden Mask.
The same figure from the video calls.
The same figure who had haunted my nightmares.
The figure tilted its head.
Almost curiously.
I aimed directly at its chest.
"Don't move."
The figure laughed softly.
Not distorted.
Not mechanical.
Human.
Familiar.
Painfully familiar.
"Still pointing guns before asking questions."
I froze.
That voice.
No.
It couldn't be.
"Who are you?" I demanded.
The figure took one step closer.
Then another.
"You don't remember me."
Not a question.
A statement.
My hands trembled despite myself.
"Take off the mask."
Silence.
Then—
"Would you recognize me if I did?"
Something cracked inside me.
Because I wasn't sure.
The figure slowly reached upward.
My breath caught.
Fingers touched the mask.
And removed it.
Everything inside me shattered.
Dark hair.
Pale skin.
Familiar eyes.
Older.
Harder.
Broken.
But unmistakable.
"Ally?"
The name escaped like a prayer.
My sister stared at me.
No emotion crossed her face.
None.
"Hello, Lyra."
I forgot how to breathe.
Impossible.
Ally was dead.
She had died years ago.
I had mourned her.
Cried for her.
Buried her.
"No," I whispered.
Ally smiled faintly.
A heartbreaking smile.
"You always were terrible at accepting reality."
Tears blurred my vision instantly.
I lowered the gun.
"You're alive."
For the first time, emotion flickered across her expression.
Anger.
Raw and terrifying.
"Alive?"
She laughed.
The sound was empty.
"Is that what you call this?"
I stepped forward instinctively.
"Ally—"
"Stop."
The single word cut deeper than any knife.
I froze.
Her eyes filled with something dangerously close to hatred.
"You left me."
The accusation slammed into me.
"I searched for you for years."
"You stopped."
"I never stopped!" I shouted.
"You disappeared!"
"No."
Her voice trembled.
"I was taken."
Silence.
"I screamed for you."
My heart shattered.
"And you never came."
Tears streamed freely now.
"Ally, I was a child."
"So was I."
The words destroyed me.
Neither of us moved.
Neither of us looked away.
Years of grief stood between us.
Then—
Gunshots exploded.
Three.
Rapid.
Instinct took over.
I lunged.
So did Ally.
Bullets shattered the windows behind us.
Black-clad figures flooded the hallway.
White masks.
At least ten of them.
One of them shouted:
"Retrieve Subject Seven!"
Another pointed toward Ally.
"Golden Mask! Orders have changed!"
Ally's entire expression darkened.
She looked toward me.
Then toward the approaching White Masks.
And for the first time—
Fear appeared in her eyes.
"Run, Lyra."
I stared.
"What?"
Ally shoved me backward.
"RUN!"
The White Masks charged.
And my dead sister stepped in front of me.
Protecting me.
Again.