Page 30 of Damsel in Disguise

“You introduced emotional awareness without containment,” I continue. “You amplified desire without consequence. Of course, it collapsed. Because you triggered fixation in it. I kept telling you not to authorize activation unless I say so, but—” I huff from genuine frustration and briefly close my eyes.

The word ‘fixation’ surfaces unbidden in my mind.

I try to diminish the intruding thoughts of the biker and focus on remembering the body of ninety-seven, the way the nervous system burned itself alive trying to reconcile hunger with obedience.

“This failure is on you,” I say evenly, leading into why I initially came in here.

“You’re unusually invested.”

Now’s my chance.

“You introduced an intrusion I didn’t authorize,” I reply. “And if even one Synthète were allowed to breach containment… if even one is permitted unsupervised awareness of its origin, then any anomalous behavior outside this facility would cease to be a coincidence.”

That earns their full attention.

Luca speaks. “This is iteration. Risk is inherent.”

He’s the most diplomatic person among the three who doesn’t like any imbalance in his scale of maintaining peace.

“Yes,” I agree. “But unauthorized risk introduces noise.” I widen my stance. “You don’t correct anomalies by flooding them with stimulus. You isolate them. Observe them. Let them reveal themselves on their own.”

The Crown inclines his head slightly. It’s either a concession or a warning, I can’t tell for the stupid mask.

“And what precisely are you isolating right now?” Victor asks sharply instead of the Crown.

“Iteration ninety-eight will proceed under my supervision only. No auxiliary interference. And so will be every other future Synthètes.”

“I believe you’ve always been the head of Nocturis Vincit Alistair Hertley,” Victor says.

“Sometimes not,” I say, looking directly at the Crown.

“This project belongs to the Triarch Dominion,” he says. “Not to individual obsessions. But as the head of Nocturis Vincit, no Synthète was or will be released to the public without your written permission.”

I straighten, expression smoothing back into neutrality. As it should be is what I want to say, but I don’t. Instead, I say, “Thank you for the clarification.”

They nod, but I don’t even smile, but rather turn on my heels to walk out of the room.

I don’t need to stay here any longer. I got my answer.

She wasn’t a Synthète sent after me for a practical experiment. It was a human.

“And Hertley,” Luca finishes, “try not to let hypothetical anomalies distract you.”

I halt midway, not understanding what it might imply.

“Have I ever?” I say over my shoulder, leaving no room for them to answer as I exit the boardroom with that.

11. OBSERVE

alistair

In emptiness, systems reveal their intended function. The tiered rows descend toward the lectern in clean symmetry, oak desks polished smooth by decades of restless hands.

I can’t deny that part of me actually prefers the lecture hall half empty. The lesser crowd is easier to grab attention.

I cross to the podium and set my tablet down, aligning it with the edge within a millimeter. The notification shows it’s already connected to the digital board.

I’m already standing behind the podium ahead of time than usual today. What an exception from my side. I don’t like to be either early or late—I like to be exactly on time.