Chapter 139 - Retreat (1/2)

”It's you—” I reached trembling fingers towards him. He smiled and caught them in his warm solid hands. Demos pulled me up my feet into an embrace. ”It's really you?” I buried my face in his chest. My cheek rubbing on the rough texture of his bandages. I raised my hand to his chest and brushed over it.

”You're hurt?” I met his gaze. He let out a low chuckle.

”The Medpod repaired the major damages but my body is not completely fixed. I'll have scars,” he lowered his head. I touched his chin, a light flickered in his cooper eyes.

”I don't care about the scars. I don't about the envelope,” tears spilled. His arms tightened around me.

”It's ok, I've got you. I'll never let go,” he whispered in my hair. I abruptly pulled away and gazed into his confused face.

”Atlas said he deleted your file,” all expression drain away, my heart raced. Was it true? Was it a lie? Talk to me. He averted his eyes. I pulled on the front of his shirt for answers.

”I—” he sighed. He then switched to our link. The shift was so unexpected I felt like a physical blow in the face.

-I don't have any memory of what happened with—Atlas.

Hearing his inner voice was such a relief and torture at the same time. There was a mixture of opposing emotions conveyed in it. Such despair and helplessness. So much love I felt like drowning. And yet he hesitated as he searched his words. What was he trying to hide? I dove into the thick soup of sensations reaching for him, grabbing that red pulsing thread.

-When I wake up, the last thing I recall was that episode with a nasty cop by the roadside. When I looked up, Grant was standing there, worried.

I searching his face as well as the trembling lights around our connection. He was telling the truth. Then what about the black box? Was it gone? How was that even possible?

”I don't get it?” a blast of orange flame startled me. From the bottom of the stairs, a cyborg had fired explosives damaging part in the railing where Grant was standing. Alter and Nicolai had pulled him just in time out of harm. Demos held me firmly in his arms when I tried to run to him. Grant fired back, he and his group were yelled at their assailants below. When I focused back on Demos, his expression has shifted to sadness.

”I'm a copy—a backup. If Atlas said he deleted my file then it means he deleted the original,” it took more than a minute to sink in. I couldn't tear my eyes from his sad face. Even as smoke stung my eyes and the fight raged around us—I couldn't accept the truth.

”Fall back!” shouted Alter.

”Retreat,” waved Grant towards us. ”They've called backup. Let's get out of here,” Demos grabbed my arm and in seconds I was safely tugged against his chest as we fled. We gathered our wounded and dashed to a long brightly lit corridor. On the wall, I made out in golden letters, Ground floor.

”Wait, what about Olga?” I called. He gave me a quick peek.