My throat tightens.
“Together… they normalize permanent control.”
No one speaks.
Because they understand.
Not just the damage.
The shift.
Aaron steps closer. “And if you stop it?”
I finally look at him.
And this part…
This is the trap.
“If I stop the cascade cleanly,” I say, “he flips a kill switch on one of the systems—something catastrophic enough that it looks like interference caused it.”
A beat.
“He blames me.”
Silence slams into the room.
Heavy.
Final.
Jace’s voice cuts through it—quiet, almost thoughtful.
“He’s her mirror.”
I nod once.
“Yes.”
Because that’s exactly what this is.
Not an attack.
A conversation.
A challenge.
A test.
“And he built it,” I say softly,
“so only I can see it in time.”
Which means—
I’m the only one who can fail.
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