"Ripping her out of there like that could have killed her! Are you crazy? Where's Matthews? Erica!"

Roger's voice blended with static in my ears. Just like old times. Only, this time, it was desperate, angry. His voice was followed by shouts from others, voices I couldn't make out.

What's going on?

"We had to do it!" someone else yelled.

My hands tingled; my body burned. I forced my eyes to flutter open, but that only brought an intense pain between them. Light, though blocked out by glass, made me squint. It took me a second, but I realized where I was; I was back in that room, laid on that bed.

"No!" Roger shouted back. "On whose orders?"

With trembling hands, I touched the headset still seated over my eyes. My fingers reached for the straps beside my ears, where Alex had latched it shut. It took one struggled pull to lift it off my head; right after, slam, it slipped out from my fingers and crashed to the floor.

"She was under too long! Both of you were in that world trying to play house, while the rest of us were out here dying!"

Play house? Who was dying?

I groaned and rubbed my eyes with closed fists. It hurt to do it; then I realized, everything hurt. From the tips of my fingers down to my toes, tiny needles stabbed through my skin, well into my muscles. I whimpered at the feeling.

"Hey, hey." When I opened my eyes, I saw Roger stood above me. He pressed his hands to my cheeks and checked my temperature. The glow of his eyes scanned over my face as he watched my reactions. That same glow slid down my body, looking at my chest, my legs; he used one hand to prod for pain.

I whimpered at each poke.

"Clara." He looked at my face again and moved hair from my cheeks. "Are you okay? How do you feel?"

"Sick," I breathed.

"Exactly." He hissed the word as he turned back around, prepared to yell again. That's when I saw Bessel standing in the room, hands behind him like he wasn't bothered at all by what happened. His eyes looked from me, to Roger, then back out the open door behind him, where people scurried down the hall. Alarms sounded in the distance.

"Look—" Bessel pointed at me, "—she needs to get up and out, no say so on your part!"

Roger stood in front of Bessel, chest to chest, but the older man towered over him, still. Both of their stares bore in the other's; lips pulled back in animalistic snarls.

Bessel opened his mouth to say something else, but Roger spoke first. "Who gave the order?"

"What does it matter?" Bessel rushed over to my bed and hoisted me up despite my cries. Roger reached to grab me, but Bessel turned my head first. His hands dug into my chin. "Look! She's fine! A little pale, but that doesn't mean she can't shoot at someone!"

Roger wasn't sure if he could just take me back. What if Bessel hurt me? "Put her down," Roger hissed. "Let her go."

"No," Bessel chuckled maliciously and shook his head, "can't you see the both of you are holding us back? These orders should've happened hours ago! It's time to move!"

I didn't expect him to put me down, but I didn't expect him to squeeze me either. His arms went around my waist, the other still around my shoulders to grip my chin. Roger was red in the face when Bessel's lips met my ear. "I hope you learned a lot in there, darlin', because the world's going to go kaboom."

My heart skipped a beat.

"Enough!" Roger rushed forward, one arm out. That was the hand that pushed Bessel back by his chin, knocking him into the bed behind me until he and the wheels slid across the floor.

Without the brute's arms around me, I lost all balance, but Roger grabbed me before I fell. He draped one of my arms over his shoulder and looked me once over. "Shit, Clara..." he said under his breath. "I've got you..."

There was fear in each of his words; I heard it clearly. Ripping me out from our virtual reality did me no good. And I felt it. Everywhere.

"Just take her to see that goddamn medic," Bessel yelled as Roger helped me out of the room. "She'll fix her!"

Erica—she would fix me. If anyone had a magical pill to erase this pain, it was her. That's why when we made it a few feet from the door, Roger called for her. "Erica! Where are you?"

He was careful and tried not to drag me but couldn't help it. Each time he took a step, I followed, but my legs would shake and crumbled under my weight. We hadn't made it to the end of the hall before Roger hoisted me up in his arms. "Erica!" he shouted again. "Come on!"

When he turned a corner, my head slapped into someone I didn't know. He was tall, with hair pulled back in a ponytail. When he looked at me, he was concerned, and touched Roger's arm that carried me. "Is she okay?" they asked.

"She will be," Roger panted, looking up and down the hall, "but I need Erica. Where is she?"

The tall man pointed ahead of us before covering his head. "She's back at the clinic. Six others are in there already."

"Six?" Roger's grip on my arm didn't help the ache. "Six helpers, or six injured?"

"Injured," the man huffed as three more people ran back. "It isn't good out there, man."

"Damn it." Roger looked away from the man as he turned to watch the crowd that hurried around like frightened ants. Some pulled open doors; others rummaged through lockers. Nearly half of them carried guns in their hands.

"Roger..." I breathed against the white of his shirt, its dampness touching my cheek. When I licked my lips, I realized it wasn't water, but sweat; and it wasn't his sweat, but mine. Droplets slid down my face.

"Clara, I'm going to get you help. It's going to be all right." Roger tried to reassure me.

When I looked up at him, I saw his face, contorted in rage. He tried to keep me safe, away from harm, yet the second we relaxed, I was yanked out from his grip. I wanted to tell him that I knew it was all right, that I'd get the help I needed, but the moment I opened my mouth, the world went black and my eyes shut.

I welcomed darkness once again.

♦

When I came to, I stared up at the grey ceiling of Erica's clinic. The lights were dimmed to feel comfortable, the air around me warm. Blankets were pulled up and tucked under around me; even my hands were covered. I wiggled my fingers and tugged up from under me.

There was a rustle in the corner of the room, like paper being flipped. Naturally, I turned my head towards the sound. "Roger," I whispered, quieter than a mouse.

It wasn't Roger. Or Erica. Or anyone who might have been sitting in this room with me.

Instead, it was my mother.

Her translucent form sat in a chair just beside the monitors. With her hair pulled up in a bun and her long cardigan tucked under her crossed legs, she was exactly how I remembered her. Especially with that book in her hands, fat with too many pages to flip. For the life of me I couldn't remember the title, but she'd reread it at least a hundred times when I was growing up.

Still, why would she be here? In this room? Were my meds that strong? Because my mother was...

"Dead..." I croaked a little louder than before. "Mom... you're..."

My mother lifted just her eyes, and though the rest of her allowed the walls behind her to be visible, her eyes didn't. They were emerald, bold, and bore into my soul when we locked eyes. I held my breath but outstretched my freed hand.

You're never one to give up, you know. Unlike me. So, educate me. What's that thing in your head? Is it good for you?

I heard her voice. Quiet, gentle, always able to pull and hold your attention with just a single word. But her lips didn't move, not once, and the hand I held out shook with fear.

The meds were strong because clearly, I was hallucinating...

Your father would have let you have it, without a doubt. Probably set up an appointment to have his installed with yours. I don't think it's worth it... but you... I think you need it. It'd make you happy, right?

Those words, I remembered them. I wasn't hallucinating—this was a memory. Sitting up slightly, I wondered if the headset had side effects. Eidetic memories?

Don't let me hold you back.

I pulled my hand back beside me as I struggled to sit up and watch her smile at me. Her eyes followed my every move. It was exactly how it'd been on my eighth birthday, the morning she woke me up to tell me she agreed to let me get the implant. I'd begged for weeks when the Province first announced them, but my mother wouldn't sign the forms. Mandatory or not, I was still a minor and she did not approve. But on that morning, she smiled at me and told me I could have it; she wouldn't hold me back from the world I lived in.

"Mom." I slid out from the blankets and walked towards her. Yet, the closer I got, the more she faded away. I was just a foot from her when I no longer made out her image, just her eyes. They didn't move or blink; simply stared. And I stared back.

Don't let anyone hold you back...

Her last words resonated in my ears just as her eyes faded away, leaving me with just the wall, the computers, and the chair that shouldn't exist. I touched it once before turning to look at the rest of the clinic. The beds were empty, their monitors powered down and dormant. Was I alone?

Even though my mother was gone, her words hit me again as I turned: that thing in your head, is it good for you?

That memory meant more to my present than it did my past. My mother was always trying to tell me something, teach me a lesson—was this one of them?

"Roger..." I said his name quietly once as I looked down at the floor, then remembered everything that happened before I passed out. The headset, the machines, Bessel, war... "Roger!" I called his name right after.

You're never going to give up, you know.

There was an IV attached to my arm and I yanked it out. A small trickle of blood slid down my arm, but I wiped it clean. And moved. There wasn't any time to lay around.

Don't let anyone hold you back...

There were two other voices aside from my mother's when I rushed out into the hall. At first, I thought they came from the conference room, where I figured everyone would be, but they came from the left rather than the right. And it wasn't who I expected to hear.

It was Xerses.

"You can't do this!" His voice didn't come from his room, but because it was so frantic, I followed it. I ran down the hall until I reached a room with double doors and pushed them open. A white light caught me off guard.

"X, we need you to relax..." Roger's voice followed his as I rubbed my eyes. "We have to do this."

When my vision came to, Xerses was strapped to a chair, arguing with the people in the room. There was Douglas on one side, and another member on the other; Matthews and Bessel, the biggest men in the room, held his shoulders to keep him still.

And beside the door was Roger. He turned to me as I lowered my hands. "Doll." He sounded relieved. "When did you wake up?"

"Just now," I muttered to him and while he cupped my face, I slid my eyes over towards Xerses. "What's going on?"

"Clara!" Xerses pleaded with me, almost immediately. "They're going to shut it down! They're going to kill me!"

"We not gon' kill you, man," Matthews hissed. Xerses fought against his grip but he pulled back. "We gon' save you. Can't see it yet?"

"No!" Xerses shook both of his shoulders and tried to free himself. His hands pulled at the straps that held his wrists; his feet kicked the legs of the chair under him. Yet, nothing—they bound him good. "Clara, please..."

The man I didn't know simply looked at me with his eyes. He didn't speak, didn't move; he didn't help the others keep Xerses seated. He just lifted his lip, an inch, and raised one finger. From side to side it moved, like a pendulum. And I watched it.

"Clara." Roger tried to get my attention. "He's right—"

My eyes snapped towards him. "What?"

"—but we're not going to erase the Hosts. They're here, alive." He stomped one foot at the floor. "Every computer file has been replaced with human minds. We just need to flip the switch, reverse the upload, and bring the citizens back."

"But—" Roger pressed a finger to my lips because, clearly, I'd begun to panic.

"The bodies out there do not belong to the Codes, Clara, you know this."

He's right...

"And we'll design the machines to fix them."

Okay...

"He's lying!" Xerses' scream cut through the air, and when I heard it, static seared through my receptor. I hissed and stepped back, pressing my palm to my ear to stop the ache. Roger reached to console me, but I looked at Xerses instead. How could his scream do it? How could he reach my receptor with just his voice?

That's when I looked at his eyes, his smile, and my heart fell.

How could I forget Verba still had him under control?

"Sedate him!" Douglas ordered. "We can't have any more outbursts!"

Outbursts... I remembered then Xerses had said Verba liked to make surprise appearances. Each time, it was never good. He'd attacked everyone at one point; screamed into the sky. What had he done now?

As Douglas turned towards the door behind us, Erica made her way around Xerses' chair with a syringe in hand. She pressed the needle into the side of his calf and glanced up when he didn't react. He simply watched me, his eyes brightening with every passing second.

Roger slid his hand into mine. "While we were under, Verba—through X—announced that Zara would blow up all of the Domes. The Hosts outside have been attacking, taking us down. In less than five hours, we've lost eight buildings. The Peace members out there are out of our control..."

Looking over at Roger, I saw the frustration on his face. The veins in his neck pulsed as he swallowed; his eyes were just as bright as Xerses'.

"Matthews!" Douglas had stopped at the door and called for his second-in-command. I watched Matthews hands lift off Xerses, his reluctance to let go. He gave Bessel an untrusting look before turning towards us and tapped Erica along the way, for her to follow, too.

"Listen." Douglas touched my shoulder right after. "I ordered you out, but not as Bessel complied. If you're well enough, you'll be with Roger here at the base. Gather people. I've got to assemble my team to swarm outside. Your friend here—" he nodded towards Xerses, "—we'll save him, but we can't unless we move. So, if you have any last words, do it now; if not..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but he didn't need to. I either say what I need to say or move out and save the world. At least he gave me the option.

"Can I have a minute?" I asked as Douglas and the others disappeared down the hall. Roger watched them for a moment before looking into the room, at Bessel and the other man who didn't move. I heard him growl under his breath, his hand gripping mine. "Roger?"

"Don't you have a team to assemble, too?" Roger lifted his brow as he looked right at Bessel. "Get out, move, and give her the minute she needs."

"Or what?" Bessel dipped his head back and laughed.

"Or—"

I let go of Roger's hand and moved forward, standing directly in front of Xerses' chair. His bright eyes looked up at me, but mine were focused on the other two. I gave them the same suspicious glare Matthews had given them. "Or I'll turn every Host out there on you," I said.

The man on the left blinked at me, but Bessel only laughed again. "And how are you going to do that?"

I think Roger had more connection to my receptor than I gave him credit for, because he caught my bluff and made it possible. He took one step towards me and the room's light flickered; Xerses, despite the medication taking effect, laughed something deep and curdling, the sound alone made my bones shake.

Bessel reacted by pursing his lips and stepping away. His friend closely followed. "If you have that kind of power, then what do you need us for?" Bessel said near my ear, his eyes on Roger. "Don't play with fire if you can't put it out."

"I can, I will," I hissed and looked at him, "and no one can stop me."

"Sure." Bessel motioned for the man to leave and he stepped out right behind him. He gave Roger and I one last glance before turning the opposite way down the hall. Roger made sure he was well out of the way.

"How'd you do that?" I asked quietly.

Roger held the doorknob tight in his hand, his eyes still focused out on the hall. Without looking at me, he said, "Don't worry about how I did it. Do what you need to do. I'll be right here, just outside the door."

As his lips lifted up in a small smile, he shut the door behind him. And I turned towards Xerses, to say what I had to say. But how quickly did I feel like a small animal fully exposed in a field. That courage I had moments ago faded, leaving me in the awkward silence that belonged to my once-friend.

My instincts told me to forget it, because this wasn't goodbye; I'd see him after our job was done. I just... I couldn't just close the door on him, I couldn't just walk away. I didn't know how much of him was left inside his former shell, but I hoped it was enough to hear me. He needed to.

"I'm going to get you out, X," I said, squatting down in front of him. "I'll break Verba's control."

His eyes followed me as I relaxed my arms on top of my knees. My fingers pulled at the folds of my pants. "And when you're normal again, we'll hang out. We'll do pizza. I'll even try to cook. I just..."

Xerses leaned back in his seat, eyes half-lidded.

"I'm sorry." I couldn't do it. I couldn't find the words. A part of me screamed as I stood up and turned towards the door, because I couldn't just leave. I had to tell him goodbye. But the other part of me said now wasn't the time. He wasn't aware, he wasn't himself; he wouldn't be able to say his piece. How fair was that to him?

My hand settled on the doorknob.

"Do you know you're all he thought about?" It was Verba's voice that left Xerses' lips and my mind froze. "Poor boy, drifting through the streams I'd left him in. He dreamt of you, called for you. He worried about your well-being."

I turned slowly and looked in his eyes. They were just blue, not an ounce of brown left inside. "I was worried about him, too," I whispered.

"Oh, he knows," Verba's voice said. "I think he's thankful. But it's a shame."

My fingers tightened around the knob, so much that it squeaked in my hands.

"Such a shame how this will end..." Xerses' head dropped to one side and rolled back around his shoulders. "How all things end..."

I looked through the small window and saw Roger trying his hardest to look away. He bounced slightly, his foot tapping against the door. Had he heard her? Heard me?

"Shall I apologize to him for you?" What she said made me look back. "I may not have won his heart, like Roger's done with you, but I believe I have some of his trust."

I stood straight and watched as Xerses' took in a deep breath, his head falling forward. The medication had finally begun to take effect. And I heard it in her voice. It was groggy, a bit slurred and jumbled together at the end. Was this the real Verba?

"Would you?" I asked, hopefully. "Just tell him I'm sorry..."

His head nodded slowly. "Yes..." their voices were combined. "And he'll say... he's sorry, too."

I wasn't sure if I was supposed to smile, but I did. Relief came over me. A part of me felt as though she'd really tell him, but I hoped she'd add that I didn't need his apology. He hadn't done anything wrong. It was me—always me. I followed my heart and nothing else.

That's why when I opened the door and looked at Roger, I took his hand. My heart knew all along I would follow Roger wherever he went, no matter his form; my heart also knew I'd never give up. That'd explained why when I awoke, I saw my mother, a reminder of who I was. Persistent. Hopeful. Strong. And once I had my mind on something, I wouldn't stop until I got it done.

"Ready?" Roger asked in a whisper.

I nodded, squeezing his hand. "Let's finish this."