Estelle slowly drifted back to consciousness, her head still swimming in a hazy fog. Fragments of her dream lingered on the edge of her mind, elusive and fragmented, like wisps of smoke, she couldn’t quite grasp. There had been something important in that dream—something she felt certain she needed to remember. But no matter how hard she tried, the details slipped away, leaving only a vague sense of urgency.

One thought, however, stood out amidst the confusion: she could use the device they had retrieved from the last mission. The knowledge settled in her mind with an odd sense of certainty, as though it had always been there, just waiting for the right moment to surface.

But before she could dwell on it further, a sharp pain flared through her body, pulling her fully back to reality. She tried to sit up, but the effort sent a wave of agony crashing over her, forcing a small groan from her lips. The sound was enough to alert someone outside the room.

Within moments, the door flew open, and Lydia rushed in, her expression a mixture of concern and exasperation. “Estelle, you shouldn’t move yet!” she scolded, her voice firm but laced with worry.

Estelle froze at the mention of her name, the realization hitting her like a bolt of lightning. Her mask—it was gone. Panic surged through her as her hand instinctively reached up to her face, searching for the familiar weight that had become her constant companion in this world.

Lydia’s eyes softened as she saw Estelle’s reaction. “Yes, I know,” she said gently, but there was a hint of frustration in her tone. “So you don’t have to hide it anymore.”

Estelle’s hand dropped to her side, guilt twisting in her chest. She hadn’t intended to deceive Lydia, not really. But the fear of being discovered, of being seen as an imposter, had kept her silent. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to hide it from you… I just… didn’t know what to do.”

Lydia let out a sigh, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips despite the seriousness of the situation. “You really are the same, aren’t you?” she said, her tone softening even more. Then, with a sudden, playful gesture, she reached out and pinched Estelle’s cheeks, the way she used to with the other Estelle whenever she was being overly apologetic. “Always so quick to say sorry.”

The familiar gesture caught Estelle off guard, and despite the pain and confusion swirling in her mind, she couldn’t help but smile—just a little. There was something comforting in Lydia’s presence, something that reminded her of the bonds she’d once had. Even though it wasn’t quite the same, the connection between them felt real, grounding her in this strange reality.

Lydia released her cheeks and gave her a stern look, though the warmth in her eyes remained. “You’ve been through a lot, Estelle. But you need to rest. Your body needs time to heal, and I’m not letting you out of this bed until I’m sure you’re ready.”

Estelle could feel every fiber of her being protesting in agreement with Lydia’s words. Her muscles ached, her body throbbed, and every breath she took reminded her of the pain from her wounds. But her mind was a different battlefield altogether—racing with the certainty that she needed to decode that device, and soon. There was something crucial locked within it, something that she felt could change the course of everything.

“Lydia, please,” Estelle began, her voice quiet but urgent. “I know I should rest, but I can’t. There is a device we retrieved that I must decode. I have this feeling—no, I know that it’s important. We can’t wait.”

Lydia crossed her arms, her expression unyielding. “You’re not going anywhere, Estelle. Your body needs its rest, and running off to decode a device is not going to help with that.”

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

“I promise, I’ll be quick about it,” Estelle pleaded, her eyes wide and earnest. “I’ll be careful, I won’t push myself too hard. But I have to do this, Lydia. Please.”

Lydia’s resolve wavered as she looked into Estelle’s eyes, the same eyes she’d seen so many times before—pleading, determined, impossible to resist. It wasn’t fair, really. No one could say no to that face, not even her.

With a sigh, Lydia muttered under her breath, “It’s cheating with that face… you’re just like her.” She moved to a nearby shelf and began rummaging through the supplies, her movements brisk and efficient.

Estelle watched with bated breath, unsure if Lydia was going to relent or not. Finally, Lydia turned back to her, holding a small vial and the familiar mask. “Here,” she said, handing the items to Estelle. “This potion will help dull the pain and stop your wounds from getting worse, but it’s only temporary. We need to be quick.”

Estelle’s heart leaped with relief as she took the vial and mask from Lydia, a grateful smile spreading across her face. “Thank you, Lydia,” she said sincerely, her voice soft.

Lydia gave her a pointed look, her sternness returning for a moment. “Don’t thank me yet. I’m going with you,” she declared firmly. “You’re not leaving my sight this time. I’m not letting you overdo it again.”

Estelle nodded, appreciating Lydia’s concern more than she could express. Together, they moved swiftly through the dimly lit corridors of the shelter, the silence almost eerie as they encountered no one else—only the faint sounds of the other injured resistance members resting in the infirmary echoed through the halls. The quiet of the shelter only heightened the urgency in Estelle’s mind. They couldn’t afford any more delays.

When they reached the secured area where the device was stored, Estelle felt a flicker of anxiety. But as she approached the spot where she had carefully hidden the device, relief washed over her. It was still there, exactly where she had placed it.

Her hands moved almost instinctively as she began the activation process. She was surprised by how smoothly everything came to her—she was efficient, almost as if she had done this a hundred times before. And the device finally hummed to life under her touch.

“Thank the stars above,” Estelle murmured under her breath, a small smile of relief playing on her lips. The device wasn’t broken, and she had successfully accessed its contents. Lydia blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the familiarity of those words, a phrase she hadn’t heard in a long time.

But before either of them could fully process the moment, a shadow fell over them. Estelle’s heart skipped a beat as she turned to see Alaric standing in the doorway, his expression hard and suspicious.

“So, this is what you’ve been up to, Lily,” Alaric said, his voice low and dangerous. “I had my doubts. I wanted to see if you would try to decode the device on your own.”

Estelle froze, the device still humming in her hands. The tension in the room was palpable, and Lydia instinctively moved closer to Estelle, ready to intervene if necessary.

But then something shifted in Alaric’s demeanor. His usual calm, calculating expression was replaced by something darker—a rage that Estelle had never seen in him before. His eyes narrowed as he took a step closer, his gaze locking onto her with an intensity that made her blood run cold.

“Just who are you?” Alaric demanded, his voice rough with barely contained anger. Without warning, he reached out and grabbed Estelle by the shoulders, his grip painfully tight. “Who the hell are you?”

“Alaric, stop!” Lydia cried, rushing forward to intervene. She placed her hands on his arm, trying to pry him away from Estelle. “You’re hurting her!”

But Alaric, lost in his rage, barely registered Lydia’s protests. With a forceful shove, he pushed Lydia aside, his focus entirely on Estelle. His hand moved to her face, and before she could react, he tore the mask away, revealing her true identity.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. His eyes widened in disbelief, a storm of emotions playing across his face—anger, pain, and something else, something deeper that Estelle couldn’t quite place.

Estelle’s vision began to blur, her head throbbing with a pain far greater than the physical wounds she bore. It was as if the very sight of Alaric’s anguish was tearing her apart from the inside. She gasped, clutching her head as the pain intensified, overwhelming her senses. It was as if a floodgate had been opened, memories and emotions crashing over her in a relentless tide.

“Al…” she whispered, her voice barely audible as the world around her began to fade. The last thing she saw was the look of devastation on Alaric’s face before everything went black, the pain in her head overwhelming her as she slipped into unconsciousness.