Chapter 61: Griffin’s Revelation

**“New input.**
**Protocol modified. Only one of you may leave this room alive.**
**The other two… will be eliminated.”**

The silence that followed was deafening.

Evelyn’s eyes widened. “No. No, this isn’t—this isn’t real. It’s a test. A simulation.”

“Lethal simulation.
Refusal to decide will result in the death of all three subjects.”

The replicas vanished. No more distractions. No illusions. Just the three of them. Three platforms. Three lives. One choice.

Vykhor inhaled slowly. His fists clenched. “Enough. This test is meant to break us.”

Evelyn stared at him, her breath shallow. Blue, positioned between them, was trembling. He could feel it—the tension, the hesitation. The impossible choice.

Then…

“Verbal validation required.
Vykhor Kael’seth, state your decision.”

The Kael’tarien turned to Evelyn. His gaze was hard. Icy.

“I live. Evelyn stays. Blue dies.”

Evelyn screamed. “What?!”

A containment field instantly rose around her platform. The floor beneath Blue rumbled ominously.

And then—Griffin’s voice:

“False choice.
Resetting.
Protocol Five engaged.”

Everything dissolved.

Lights flickered.

A new scene took shape.

Vykhor was alone, kneeling in a sterile cell. Blood streaked down his arms. Evelyn screamed, strapped to a table. Blue was clawing at a glass wall, powerless to reach them.

**“Second protocol: emotional torture.**
**Subject A-011 will be neutralized through sustained pain.**
**Subject K-037 may stop the procedure… if he agrees to permanently erase his emotional memory.”**

Evelyn screamed again. Pain, confusion, fear.

Blue was frantic, battering the wall.

And Vykhor…

He lowered his head. His jaw trembled. He understood. If he accepted—he would forget her. Evelyn. Their bond. My’Lari.

“No…” he whispered. “Not her.”

He rose slowly. Fists clenched. His whole frame vibrated with fury.

“You hear me, Griffin?! I’m not playing your game. I won’t choose between them. Kill me if you want. But you won’t break us.”

The world paused.

Then, everything disintegrated.

Like none of it had ever existed.

Before them, a screen flickered to life.

And there he was.

The real face of Dr. Alan Griffin.

Calm. Silent.

And for the first time, his eyes—though shadowed with sadness—held a clear, unmistakable emotion.

Pride.

“Hello, Evelyn. Hello, Vykhor. And… hey, Blue.”

“If you’re seeing this, it means you’ve passed every test. I’m sorry for their severity. But I had to know.”

“To know if you were ready, Evelyn. To know if you’d chosen the right allies.”

“You have.”

Griffin’s image lingered in silence for a few seconds. As if he too was weighing the storm he had just unleashed.

And then:

“You’ve changed, Evelyn.”

His voice was calm, low, laced with that odd blend of distance and sincerity that was so uniquely him.

“And I’m proud of you. Of what you’ve become. Of the strength you’ve found.”

Evelyn was still shaking. Her eyes wouldn’t leave the screen. Her biomedical bracelet pulsed gently, recording a heart rate far too high. Far too unstable.

She could still feel the straps. Hear the synthetic voice announcing pain. Feel the chill of metal under her skin. The acrid smell of chemicals.

For one terrifying moment, she had truly believed it was all starting over.

Blue pressed against her leg, sensing her faltering. Vykhor said nothing, but wrapped his arm around her shoulders, steadying her. He didn’t need words. He knew.

Griffin continued:

“What you just went through wasn’t meant to harm you… but to reassure me.”

“I’ve been watching. Since the beginning. Since you met Vykhor. Even before that.”

His words hit hard. Evelyn blinked, eyes stinging with tears.

“I’m not dead. I was never far. But I couldn’t intervene. Not yet.”

He paused. His tone darkened slightly.

“What you’re facing—what lives inside you, Evelyn—is the legacy of something far larger than you’ve imagined.”

“Project Ashcroft.”

The name struck like a thunderclap.

“You weren’t the first. And you weren’t supposed to survive.”

“But you escaped. You became something… more. And now they want to understand why. So they can replicate it.”

Vykhor’s grip tightened slightly on her hand. She hadn’t even noticed she’d started trembling again.

Griffin’s face hardened.

“I did everything I could to slow them down. I destroyed labs. Sabotaged data. Corrupted entire programs.”

“But I can’t face them alone.”

He bowed his head—a rare gesture of respect from a man like him.

“That’s why I’m placing my hopes in you.”

He turned toward Vykhor now.

“You’re a warrior. A protector. But more than that—you stayed. When walking away would’ve been easier. You stayed for her.”

“I entrust you with what I hold most dear. Protect her, Vykhor. Even from herself.”

Then, once more, to Evelyn—his voice softening:

“I know you have a thousand questions. And you deserve every answer.”

“But not yet. Not now.”

The image began to flicker. A self-erasure protocol was kicking in.

“Keep learning. Keep growing. And when you’re ready…”

A flicker of light passed through his gaze.

“I’ll be there.”

His final words:

“I’m proud of you, Evelyn.”

The screen went black.

Silence.

Only the sound of Evelyn’s breath, ragged and fast, broke the stillness. She remained curled against Vykhor, her heart pounding erratically. But slowly… her body began to calm.

He was alive.

He was watching.

And he still believed in her.

She exhaled deeply and looked up at Vykhor.

“He left me behind once…” she whispered. “But he never stopped watching.”

Vykhor didn’t speak. He simply pressed his forehead against hers.

And in that silence, thick with meaning, only one truth remained:

They weren’t alone anymore.

As silence settled across the room, broken only by the hum of the dormant structure, a final spark flickered from the main projector. Not an image—but a pulse. Subtle. Faint.

Kryna’s voice crackled through their comms.

“Outbound transmission intercepted. Encrypted. Old protocol. Origin… Griffin.
It’s for Evelyn.”

Vykhor frowned. Evelyn instinctively approached the central interface and extended her hand.

A soft blue halo formed around her wrist. Her biomedical bracelet pulsed brighter—responding. A kind of synchrony, as if the system had been designed to accept only her.

“Reading protocol locked,” Kryna added. “Structure is tailored to deploy within your neural interface… but only when you’re ready.”

Evelyn stepped back slightly. She looked at her bracelet, then up at Vykhor.

Their eyes met and held.

“He left me a puzzle,” she murmured. “Another one.”

“It’ll be the last,” Vykhor said gravely. “Or the most important.”

Blue, never far, growled softly—bringing them both back to the moment.

Evelyn drew in a breath and nodded.

“Let’s go home.”

They retraced their steps through the now silent corridors. No more traps. No more lights. No more voices. The facility had exhaled its final breath.

No more tests. No more observers.

Just three silhouettes.

A woman worn down—but unbroken.

A warrior ever watchful—but silent.

And a young feline, ready to bite the stars if they ever dared threaten his mistress.

Natural light finally filtered in—cold, but real. And when the last hatch opened to reveal the starlit sky of Mendark-9, Evelyn turned for one last look at the structure behind them.

“Thank you, Alan,” she whispered.

She didn’t yet know what the data contained.

But she knew, without a doubt, that one day—when the time was right—she’d find the strength to open it.

Not alone.

Never alone again.