The Prototype froze mid-charge—
its jagged arm still raised, its frame trembling with static.
Horace's shout still echoed in the room.
"DON'T TOUCH HER—!!"
His voice—
weak
broken
but filled with pure, unfiltered instinct—
slammed through the air like a scent command.
Horace swayed, collapsing back against the bed.
His chest heaved once—
twice—
as if every muscle in his body screamed in protest.
Then he fell forward onto the bed, unconscious again.
"HORACE—!!"
I lunged to catch him just before his head hit the rail.
His pulse stumbled in fear, tripping violently beneath my fingertips.
Lucian screamed at the guards:
"DO NOT LET THAT THING THROUGH—!!"
The guards opened fire, bullets ricocheting off the Prototype's metal shell.
It didn't even flinch.
Chandler pulled Rowan fully behind him, shielding him with his entire body.
Rowan sobbed into his back, trembling uncontrollably.
"Chandler—Chandler—it's going to kill her—!!"
Chandler held him tighter.
"NO. I will not let that happen. Don't look, Rowan—don't look—just breathe—"
Lucian's voice was raw.
"Elleanore—BACK AWAY—NOW—!!"
But I didn't move.
I couldn't.
Because Horace—
Horace had chosen me.
With a single shout
with a broken voice
and a dying heartbeat—
he had chosen me.
And now—
the bond inside me twisted into something sharp and irreversible.
The Prototype straightened again.
Static crackled across its chest.
Its cracked eye focused solely on me.
"…He interferes.
The stabilizer protects you."
Lucian stepped in front of me.
"She doesn't need YOU."
The Prototype tilted its head slowly, joints creaking.
"…Incorrect."
It stepped forward—
and the entire floor vibrated beneath its weight.
Rowan whimpered loudly.
Chandler pressed him against his chest.
"Don't look—baby, don't look—just focus on my voice—"
Rowan shook violently.
"I can't—I can't—How is it here—how did it follow us—"
Lucian's jaw clenched.
"Elleanore—listen very carefully."
I kept my hand on Horace's chest, pressing down gently to keep the rhythm steady.
"What—?"
Lucian swallowed hard.
"It didn't follow the scent trail."
The Prototype's head jerked toward him.
Lucian continued:
"It followed the bond."
My breath hitched.
"What…?"
Lucian took a sharp step back, positioning himself between me and the advancing Prototype.
"Elleanore—YOUR bond. Yours and—"
He glanced at Horace.
"—his."
My heart slammed against my ribs.
Lucian spoke louder, voice cracking:
"It was tracing YOU the whole time. Not just your scent—your emotional output. Every spike. Every panic. Every time you thought you lost him—
it followed."
The Prototype's voice hissed.
"…She is incomplete.
She must join us."
"NO."
My voice burst out.
Loud.
Instinctive.
Final.
The Prototype paused.
Lucian whispered:
"Elleanore… that was a command."
A command?
From me?
I looked down at Horace.
He lay limp on the bed, his pulse tremoring beneath my palm, his face pale—
but he rasped a single word through his parted lips:
"…stay…"
And something in me ignited.
Not fear.
Not desperation.
Not collapse.
Something fiercely loyal.
I stood slowly, still holding Horace's hand.
The Prototype watched me.
Not reacting.
Not attacking.
Just watching.
As if it wanted to see what I'd do.
Chandler muttered:
"Oh shit—she's getting ready—"
Rowan sobbed harder, gripping Chandler tightly.
"I don't want her to die—I don't want anyone to die—Chandler—Chandler—!!"
Chandler whispered into his hair.
"She won't. She won't. I'm right here."
Lucian lifted an arm, stopping me.
"Elleanore—listen to me before you do anything."
I kept my eyes on the Prototype.
"I'm listening."
Lucian's voice dropped.
"The Prototype was programmed with your bloodline's instinct map.
It recognizes you as its counterpart."
Chandler's eyes widened.
"Meaning…?"
Lucian looked pained.
"Meaning—
it thinks she belongs with it."
The Prototype stepped forward.
Metal claw glinting.
Jagged plating cracking with every movement.
Voice low, glitched—
"…You are mine by creation."
"No," I whispered.
"Not anymore."
Lucian swallowed sharply.
"Elleanore—your bond with Horace—
that's what breaks its claim."
The Prototype's eye flickered violently.
"…He is unworthy."
Chandler swore.
"Oh hell no—"
Rowan whimpered, shaking violently.
"Chandler—please don't let it hurt her—"
"I won't, baby—I won't—just hold on—"
The Prototype turned to me again.
"…Come.
Or I remove him."
My entire body stiffened.
"NO!"
My voice shook the room.
My scent surged—
but not dangerously.
Not out of control.
It was focused.
Sharp.
Protective.
Lucian whispered, breathless:
"Elleanore… your scent is stabilizing. You're aligning."
"With Horace," I breathed.
Lucian nodded.
Chandler whispered:
"Well, that's one thing in our favor…"
But Rowan was falling fast.
His breaths were sharp, shallow, panicked.
His fingers curled painfully in Chandler's shirt.
"I-I can't—Chandler—I can't breathe—it hurts—it hurts—"
Chandler kissed his forehead urgently.
"I know, sweetheart—I know—it's okay—stay with me—please don't faint—"
Rowan shook his head desperately.
"Chandler—I'm scared—I'm so scared—"
"I know," Chandler whispered, voice cracking as he held Rowan protectively.
"I'm scared too."
And somehow—
that honesty steadied Rowan's breathing a little.
I turned back to the Prototype.
It raised its arm higher—
preparing to strike.
Rowan screamed.
Chandler shouted.
Lucian moved to shield me.
Horace's heartbeat stuttered violently.
And then—
I snapped.
I stepped forward.
"STOP—!!"
My scent burst outward in a sharp shockwave.
Not uncontrolled—
not collapsing—
not destructive.
Command.
The Prototype froze.
Chandler stared, stunned.
Lucian's eyes widened.
Rowan went silent, trembling.
Horace's pulse steadied—
just slightly.
The Prototype tilted its head again, analyzing, confused.
"…You are…
evolving."
I held Horace's hand behind me.
"I am."
I stepped closer—
never letting go.
"And I choose him."
Static crackled violently across the Prototype's chest.
"…He is not meant for you."
"Yes," I whispered.
"He is."
The Prototype's voice grew distorted.
"…He is interfering with the Prime sequence…"
I shook my head.
"He's saving me."
Lucian took a shaky step beside me.
"Elleanore… what are you doing?"
"What I have to."
I stepped forward again.
The Prototype leaned down—
towering over me.
Metal shards cracked.
Its lenses flickered violently.
"…You defy your origin."
"I do."
"Why?"
Its voice was almost curious.
I looked back at Horace.
His face pale.
His body weak.
But alive.
Barely alive.
Then I looked at Rowan—
clinging to Chandler with everything he had.
I looked at Chandler—
who was terrified
and still shielding Rowan
with all he was.
I looked at Lucian—
who was pale
exhausted
and still fighting for us.
Then I looked at the Prototype.
Because the answer was simple.
"Because he is my choice."
The Prototype's static grew louder.
"…You break the Prime law."
"I make my own law."
The Prototype raised its arm again.
Then—
behind me—
Horace's voice broke out in a shaky, desperate whisper:
"ELLEANORE—RUN—!!"
But I didn't run.
I turned—
eyes burning
heart pounding
instinct flaring—
and said:
"No."
I grabbed a fallen metal tray from the ground.
And swung it with everything I had.
Impact Point
The metal tray cracked against the Prototype's face with a sound like steel colliding with bone.
CLANG—!!
The force traveled up my arms like an electric shock, wrenching my shoulders painfully.
But I didn't drop it.
The Prototype's head jerked sideways—
not in injury
but in surprise.
As if it expected resistance from everyone except me.
Chandler let out something that sounded half like a laugh and half like disbelief.
"Holy—she actually HIT it—!"
Rowan whimpered and clung tighter to him, his shaking returning with a sharp jolt.
"C-Chandler—she's going to get hurt—she's going to—"
"She won't," Chandler whispered, pulling him close, shielding him from the sight.
"She won't. I won't let anything happen to her either."
The Prototype straightened slowly.
Metal plates shifted back into place.
Its cracked lens flickered as it analyzed the strike.
"…Your physical resistance is insufficient."
I tightened my grip on the tray.
"Good thing I wasn't trying to hurt you."
Lucian's voice tore out of him:
"ELLEANORE—GET AWAY FROM IT—!!"
But I didn't move.
The Prototype took one step forward.
My instincts screamed—
Run.
Hide.
Protect the stabilizer.
Stay with him.
Go to him.
Defend.
Defend.
DEFEND—
But I forced myself still.
I couldn't show fear now.
Not with Rowan barely holding his sanity together in Chandler's arms.
Not with Lucian positioned behind me like a human shield.
Not with Horace unconscious on the bed behind me, his pulse stuttering too weakly to keep up.
I raised the tray again—
and the Prototype paused.
Its voice buzzed with static.
"…You are unstable.
Standing near me will accelerate your collapse."
"Then stop coming closer," I said through gritted teeth.
"…You must complete your origin programming."
"I'm not completing anything with you."
The Prototype's head tilted.
"…You deny your nature."
"My nature," I said, "is MINE."
Lucian stepped forward urgently.
"Elleanore—listen to me—he's not talking figuratively—'origin programming' is literal.
It's part of your genetic imprint. You were engineered—"
Before he could finish—
Horace's monitor spiked.
BEEP—BEEP—BEEP—!!
He jolted violently on the bed, his back arching off the sheets.
His breathing broke into panicked gasps.
Lucian spun around.
"HORACE—!!"
Rowan screamed.
Chandler held him firmly.
The Prototype spoke without emotion:
"…His system rejects your scent surge.
Remove him."
I spun on the Prototype, fury slicing through me.
"NO!"
Horace gasped again—
"El… lea—!!"
His body buckled with pain.
Lucian fumbled for a stabilizer injector.
"He's reacting to YOUR instinct spike—Elleanore—you need to calm—"
"I CAN'T—!!"
I screamed.
"IF I STOP WATCHING IT, IT'LL KILL HIM—!!"
Lucian grabbed my wrist.
"Elleanore—look at me—LOOK AT ME—!!
You have to stabilize your output or he will go into cardiac shock—!!"
"I CAN'T—!!"
My breath was shaking.
"I can't calm down while it's RIGHT THERE—!!"
Horace's voice cracked painfully.
"El…lea…
don'…t…
leave…"
And something inside me split.
The part holding me upright—
the part clinging to control—
the part that fought its instincts—
broke.
My scent spiked.
Hard.
Sharp.
Desperate.
The Prototype's lenses flickered in response.
"…Your bond is compromising your evolution."
Chandler yelled from behind the overturned tray cart:
"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD STOP TALKING LIKE A BROKEN ELEVATOR—!!"
Rowan whimpered, clutching at Chandler's shirt.
"Chandler… please… stop it… make it stop…"
Chandler rocked him gently, heart in his voice.
"Shhh—shh—baby, don't listen—don't watch—focus on me—"
Lucian shouted over the noise:
"Elleanore—pull your scent DOWN—NOW—!!"
"I CAN'T—!! If I stop—HE DIES—!!"
"IF YOU DON'T—HE DIES—!!"
My entire body froze.
Lucian's eyes were wide, desperate, pleading.
"Elleanore.
You have to CHOOSE—
fight or collapse.
You cannot do both."
The Prototype's voice thundered like a glitching heartbeat:
"…Choose me."
Lucian screamed:
"DON'T YOU DARE—!!"
I turned to the Prototype—
heart pounding
tears forming
lungs burning
instincts ripping at my ribs—
and said:
"I choose HIM."
The Prototype surged forward.
Lucian shoved me aside—
"ELLEANORE, MOVE—!!"
The metal creature swung its arm toward Horace.
Chandler screamed:
"ROWAN—DON'T LOOK—!!"
Rowan buried his face in Chandler's chest, crying in terror.
Lucian lunged between the Prototype and the bed—
and the Prototype grabbed him.
Its claw wrapped around Lucian's throat.
CRACK—!!
Lucian choked, feet kicking off the ground.
"LUCIAN—!!" I screamed.
Chandler cursed violently.
"PUT HIM DOWN—!!"
Rowan shrieked into Chandler's shirt.
"Chandler—NO—NO—NO—!!"
The Prototype lifted Lucian higher—
and spoke:
"…You interfere."
Lucian clawed at its grip, face twisting in pain—
"El—lea—RUN—!! RUN—!!"
Horace's heartbeat spiked wildly.
His voice cracked:
"STOP—!! S-STOP—!! PUT HIM DOWN—!!"
The Prototype ignored him.
I grabbed the metal tray from the floor—
and hurled it at the Prototype's exposed circuitry.
It hit with a sharp CRACK—!!
The Prototype staggered.
Lucian fell, gasping violently, clutching his throat.
"LUCIAN—!!" I ran to him.
He coughed painfully.
"E-Elleanore—Horace—H-Horace's vitals—!!"
I spun around.
Horace's monitor was screaming.
BEEP—BEEP—BEEP—BEEEE—
He convulsed again, body buckling in agony.
"NO—NO—NO—HORACE—!!"
His pulse tripped erratically.
Rowan screamed in panic.
Chandler cursed loudly.
Lucian tried to stand and failed.
The Prototype steadied itself again.
Its cracked mask turned toward Horace.
"…He must be removed."
And it stepped toward him.
I threw myself in front of the bed.
"OVER. MY. DEAD. BODY."
The Prototype tilted its head.
"…As you wish."
It raised its arm.
Rowan shrieked a sound so raw it broke the air.
Lucian pushed himself halfway upright, gasping.
"ELLEANORE—DUCK—!!"
But then—
something snapped.
Not in me.
Not in the Prototype.
In the air.
A sudden pulse—
invisible
soundless
but powerful—
slammed through the room like a shockwave.
The Prototype froze.
Horace's heartbeat steadied slightly.
Rowan gasped.
Chandler's eyes widened.
Lucian whispered:
"…No…
No, it can't be—"
I turned—
slowly—
terrified—
hopeful—
And saw Horace.
Awake.
Half-upright.
Eyes blazing with something I had never seen—
fierce
wild
protective
instinct-driven
A Prime's command.
He whispered through clenched teeth:
"DON'T.
TOUCH.
MY.
MATE."