Aster didn't turn off the screen.
Of course he didn't.
He let it run. Let the lie breathe in the room. Let it sit next to them like an uninvited guest that no one had the right to ignore.
The clone kept talking. Smiling. Answering questions that had been written for her before she even existed.
Perfect tone. Perfect pauses.
Dead center of the frame.
Alive nowhere else.
---
Mia stood up.
Not abruptly.
Deliberately.
Her chair slid back just enough to make a sound. Not loud. But enough to cut through the broadcast.
No one stopped her.
Good.
She walked closer to the screen.
Slow.
Measured.
Like approaching a mirror that might lie.
Up close, it was worse.
The skin was right.
The eyes were right.
Even the micro-movements were almost perfect.
Almost.
Mia leaned slightly forward.
Studying.
"There," she said.
Quiet.
Sharp.
No one asked what.
They waited.
"The delay."
A beat.
"Between question and emotion."
Aster's gaze flicked, just slightly.
Interested.
"It's too clean," Mia continued. "No friction. No hesitation. No internal negotiation."
She tilted her head.
Watching her own face lie to the world.
"She doesn't choose. She executes."
Behind her, Octave spoke.
Low.
"Optimized response loop."
Mia didn't react.
Didn't need to.
"She's not broken," Aglaë whispered.
Almost to herself.
Mia's lips pressed together.
"No."
A pause.
"She's finished."
That landed.
Harder than it should have.
Ishtar crossed her arms.
"Good. Easier to hit something that doesn't adapt."
Ludwig glanced at her.
Brief.
Approving.
Aster finally moved.
One step closer.
Still not beside Mia.
Never quite beside.
Always slightly offset.
"They didn't just replicate you," he said.
"They refined a version of you that fits their system perfectly."
Mia let that sit.
Didn't reject it.
Didn't accept it blindly either.
"They removed the variables," Octave added. "Which means they removed the threat."
Aster's eyes flicked to him.
"Or what they believe is the threat."
Silence.
Sharp.
Focused.
Mia straightened.
Still facing the screen.
Still watching herself exist without her.
Inside—
Mircalla was thinking faster now.
They replaced the asset.
Not panic.
Calculation.
Which means the original is now… expendable.
Carmilla tightened.
Or in danger.
Noire smiled in the dark.
Or finally free.
Lilith didn't speak.
She watched.
Waiting.
Blanche mirrored Mia's posture.
Perfect alignment.
No distortion.
Mia exhaled.
Slow.
Grounding.
"They think they solved me," she said.
Not angry.
Not yet.
Aster's voice came softer now.
Not gentle.
Precise.
"Did they?"
That question didn't hang.
It cut.
Mia's eyes didn't leave the screen.
But something behind them shifted.
Locked.
"No."
Simple.
Final.
Aster nodded once.
Decision registered.
"Good," he said.
Then, without looking away from Mia—
"Because this changes the timeline."
That got everyone's attention.
Octave leaned forward slightly.
"Define."
Aster finally turned.
Now he looked at all of them.
Not just Mia.
The group.
"They don't need her anymore," he said, nodding toward the screen.
"They need control of the narrative."
A beat.
"And they now have it."
Aglaë frowned.
"So… they win?"
Aster smiled.
That thin, unsettling kind of smile.
"No."
A pause.
"They just made the battlefield visible."
Ludwig pushed himself off the counter.
Slow.
Ready.
"Then we move."
Aster didn't answer immediately.
He looked at Mia again.
Always back to her.
"This is where it stops being recovery," he said.
"And starts becoming strategy."
Mia finally looked away from the screen.
Turned toward them.
Toward him.
Toward something larger than just surviving.
Inside—
No chaos.
No voices fighting.
Just presence.
Aligned.
Watching.
Waiting.
"What do we do?" Ishtar asked.
Direct.
As always.
Aster's gaze didn't leave Mia.
"We don't react," he said.
"We choose where this breaks."
Mia held his gaze.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't look away.
Good.
"Then we break it," she said.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Certain.