She met other clones just like her. They looked just like her. But when they spoke, there was something absent in them all.
The difference with this one is in the birth. None of the other clones grew. Even her—she holds no memories of her childhood. Cassian wiped her mind clean, replaced them with deconstructed versions of his own past. She was never truly born.
Maybe the fragile devil was right. This is the chance to start over.
Rae steps forward. Closer and closer, she walks toward the glowing tank. Hypnotic and pure, it draws her in. It’s so obvious what she has to do.
She places her hand against the glass, and the baby’s eyes open. Energy rushes through the tips of her fingers. The hairs on her body rise.
There is something that connects them together. She is a replica of herself. She thought it wasn’t possible to make with such accuracy, but Cassian did it.
“Hi, little one. I’m… Rae,” she whispers.
The baby kicks the glass and issues a muffled cry.
“You want to come with me?” Rae asks.
Her umbilical cord suspends within the liquid. It connects to a tube at the edge of the glass.
Rae puts her hand around the valve clamp, turning it loose slowly. A loud sound issues as the pressure releases.
She pries the tank free. Holding the heavy glass against her chest, she whispers. “Okay, baby. Let’s find hope.”
Her decision comes fast. She will get the child to safety and find her mates. Together, they will plan for her degenerat
ion and synthesis. The fragile devil knows this place well, but she has been memorizing her footsteps, organizing it like a map inside her mind.
She cuts back through the caves, remembering the path by feeling the wall with her palm. Instead of moving into the familiar, she breaks from the normal path.
She reaches a small room, a dead end. In the center is an opening with a ladder into the city.
She’s found the way out.
Nothing good ever came easy. Rae knows that much. It’s enough to keep her calm when she hears a set of familiar footsteps echo in the cavern directly behind her.
“Don’t go,” he says, the fragile devil. The looming scythe of death that sleeps with his eyes open. He speaks with infinite sadness, one that Rae understands with the entirety of her soul.
She doesn’t turn, but she can hear his footsteps coming closer.
Holding the tank close to her belly, she says, “This is my ending. You can’t take it from me.”
She senses him right behind her. Body tense, she braces for his touch. His fingers wrap around the base of her neck, applying pressure against the spine in a way that is completely debilitating.
“The new world depends on my oversight. You need to go back inside the synthesis tank,” he shouts.
She does not break with the baby. “Fuck the new world,” she groans and twists with agony.
Still, she does not break.
The devilish beta pushes against her. An absent look hangs in his eyes. His voice turns quiet. “If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years, how would men believe and adore, and preserve for many generations the remembrance of the city of God?”
He hits her. Her kneecaps buckle, causing her to hit the floor. She keeps the tank safe by rolling on her side. Sliding backward, she kicks away from his eager hands.
Quickly, she glides her arm against the floor, searching for something to protect her. He lunges after her, but she breaks through his legs.
Finally, she sees what she’s been looking for. In the corner are a few loose stones. Nerves strained, she hurries toward the pile, grabbing the rock with the sharpest angle.
“Wait, don’t,” he screams. “You’ll ruin the process. You’ll kill the baby!”