Page 46

Myall

The air in the abandoned factory is thick, cloying with the scent of rust and decay as we confront Dr. Vance.

Ziva’s eyes narrow, her fingers drumming against the side of her leg. Her jaw tightens, like she’s holding herself back from charging forward. Her fingers twitch near the pliers in her pocket, every muscle on alert.

Jarek’s breath brushes against my neck, hot and unsettling. His proximity sends a ripple of unease down my spine. I have to take control before Jarek’s temper explodes.

“Pretty words, doctor. But we need more than that. What can you offer us that’s worth the risk of harboring you?” I demand, my voice echoing off the concrete walls along with the faint dripping of the pipes. “Give us one good reason not to turn you back over to The Authority right now.”

Dr. Vance’s blue eyes lock onto mine. There’s no hesitation in them, no softness—just cold, clinical sharpness. Her gaze doesn’t waver, but I notice the tightness in her throat, as if she’s swallowing something she doesn’t want to say.

“Because I created the very thing that’s oppressing us all,” she says, her voice steady but tinged with regret. “And I want to make it right.”

Is this be the break we’ve been waiting for, or just another trap? What if she’s working for Colvin?

“Explain,” Ziva snaps, taking a step towards Dr. Vance, her anger barely masking her curiosity.

Dr. Vance takes a deep breath, her slender shoulders rising and falling with the motion.

“The NeuroMods weren’t meant to control emotions.

They were designed to help people understand and manage their feelings.

” Her hands tremble slightly as she adjusts her glasses.

“I wanted to cure depression, anxiety, PTSD. But The Authority saw potential for something far more sinister.”

I clench my fists at my sides, fighting the urge to lash out. How many lives have been destroyed because of her creation? But I force myself to take a deep breath and listen.

The rest of the group stands behind us, silent and tense. Their discomfort radiates off them, pressing against me like a suffocating weight.

“They threatened my family, my colleagues. Said they’d ‘disappear’ if I didn’t cooperate.” Dr. Vance’s voice cracks as she gazes at the concrete floor. “I thought I could work from the inside, find a way to sabotage the project. But they were always one step ahead.”

Arden steps forward, her lip trembling slightly. “It’s true,” she says softly. “When they captured me, I saw firsthand how they treated her. She was as much a prisoner as I was.”

Jarek’s voice drops to a low growl, his shoulders tense, his fists balling at his sides, but he doesn’t move. “Why was she even in that detention center then?” The question cuts through the air, sharp and unforgiving.

Dr. Vance visibly shrinks, hunching her shoulders inward.

“Colvin brought her here for a reason,” Arden snaps back.

What possible reason would Colvin have for needing Dr. Vance in our city?

Dr. Vance acknowledges with a slight nod, whispering, “Regent Colvin had me moved from the detention center in Elysium to here because he said he needed my assistance in implementing a new version of NeuroMods throughout your city.”

Ziva’s face pales slightly as she asks, “What are you saying?”

Dr. Vance runs her hands up and down her arms, as if trying to comfort herself.

“He wanted to use this city as a test case for The Authority’s new version of the NeuroMod.

He thought it would help quell the unrest in your city.

You were all just supposed to be part of the experiment, and I was brought here to oversee it. ”

Nausea churns in my stomach, and I can feel bile rising in my throat.

A swift glance at Ziva confirms that she shares my disgust. I can hear Jarek muttering behind me, struggling to keep his temper under control.

The rest of our group stands behind us in silence, but I can sense their discomfort as they shift and fidget.

I study Dr. Vance’s angular face, searching for any sign of deception. “So how exactly can you help us take down The Authority?”

Her eyes flicker with a desperate light, as though I’ve offered her a thread of hope she’s been starving for.

Her hands ball into fists, like she’s ready to fight for it, and the weight of her belief crashes into me, making me question everything.

What if I’ve given her false hope that might break us both?

“I know the weaknesses in the NeuroMod system. The backdoors, the fail-safes. With my knowledge and your resources, we could create a device to disrupt the entire network in this city.”

Could this really be our chance, or am I about to make the same mistake I’ve always feared? If she betrays us, I’m not just putting myself in danger—I’m putting all of us at risk. But if we turn her away…

Glancing at Ziva, I see my own conflicted emotions reflected in her eyes. She nods slightly, signaling for me to continue questioning Dr. Vance

Dr. Vance leans forward, her voice barely audible. “I can’t undo the harm I’ve caused. But I can help you free everyone from the emotional prison I helped create. Please, let me try to make this right.”

The weight of her words fills the space between us, thick and suffocating.

It presses against my chest. The silence that follows is almost a physical thing, settling into the corners of the room like dust. I can feel it, heavy and choking, like we’re all holding our breath, waiting for something to give.

The eyes of my fellow rebels are on me, waiting for my decision. Their eyes flicker between me and Dr. Vance, each of them trying to gauge where the conversation will go, what side they need to take.

I lean back against the rusted shelf, the rough metal digging into my back. My fingers trace it’s grooves, the weight of Dr. Vance’s words settling in. Her story stirs a mixture of curiosity and a caution I can’t shake.

“Dr. Vance,” I begin, keeping my voice low but steady, “you mentioned being manipulated by The Authority. Can you elaborate on that? What exactly drove you to collaborate with them in the first place?”

She meets my gaze, her blue eyes magnified behind her glasses. A flicker of pain crosses her face before she composes herself, crossing her arms across her chest.

“It wasn’t a simple decision,” she says, her tone measured. “When I first developed the NeuroMod technology, I truly believed it could help people manage their emotions in a healthy way. The Authority approached me with promises of unlimited funding and resources to further my research.”

My jaw sets, a hard line of anger. “And you didn’t see through their facade?”

Dr. Vance sighs, her pristine facade crumbling as she rubs her face in exhaustion. “I was young and naive, perhaps willfully so. They painted a picture of a world free from emotional turmoil, where people could live in harmony. It was…very seductive.”

Ziva scoffs from the corner, leaning against a pile of crates. “Seductive enough to ignore the loss of free will?”

“No,” Dr. Vance says firmly as she glances between Ziva and me, seemingly realizing that we’re the ones in charge.

“That came later, gradually. By the time I realized the full extent of The Authority’s plans, I was in too deep.

They had my research, my prototypes—and they made it clear that my cooperation was no longer optional. ”

I push off from the shelf, pacing the small floor space in the room that isn’t piled with crates or our supplies from the heist. My mind races, trying to reconcile her words with the suffering I’ve witnessed for so long.

“So you just went along with it? For how long?”

“Years,” she admits, looking down at the floor once more, her voice barely above a whisper. “I told myself I was minimizing the damage, working on safeguards. But in reality, I was trapped in a prison of my own making.”

The tension in the room is thick enough to cut with a knife. Marcus stands with his arms crossed, skepticism etched on his face. Arden looks torn, her recent experiences clearly influencing her perspective.

Liora, Jorell, and Tariq try to conceal their revulsion, but their quick glances at each other reveal they feel just as disgusted as the rest of us. They may be better at hiding it, but they’re not fooling anyone.

My pacing ceases as I turn to face Dr. Vance directly, doing my best to ignore the others in the room. “And now? Why should we believe your change of heart is genuine?”

She meets my gaze unflinchingly. “Because I’ve seen the true cost of my work.

The broken families, the hollow shells of people.

I can’t undo what I’ve done, but I can try to make it right.

And frankly, young man, I have nowhere else to go.

The Authority wants me silenced, and you… you’re my only hope for redemption.”

Her words hang in the air. I want to trust her, but a nagging doubt tells me we might be walking into a trap.

I glance at Ziva, still dressed in her dark blue uniform, her gaze meeting mine. She gives me a look, as if to ask, ‘Do you really believe this crap?’.

Dr. Vance’s shoulders slump, her pristine facade crumbling.

“You can’t imagine the pressure,” she says, her voice cracking.

“Every day, I’d wake up knowing my work could save lives or destroy them.

Waking up not knowing if my family were safe or even alive.

The Authority… they weren’t just my employers. They were my jailers.”

My chest twinges at the thought of not knowing if your family are safe. We all know that fear. Dr. Vance’s piercing blue eyes, once so clinical, now shine with unshed tears.