Labyrinth of lost
Chapter 27 – Labyrinth of the Lost
Damon’s POV
Waking up in a cage does something to you.
Your sense of control shatters.
Your instincts go primal.
But when I opened my eyes and saw Ava in the next cell—conscious, breathing, and burning with fire—I remembered who the hell we were.
"You good?" I croaked, my throat raw, head spinning.
"Define good," she muttered. Her eyes darted across the enclosure, already scanning for weaknesses in the structure. Even caged, she never stopped fighting.
Across from us, Solace’s clone stood behind a reinforced glass pane. Her posture was relaxed, but her eyes held venom.
"You broke the original," she said, lips twitching with disdain. "But I'm version two-point-oh. Better. Smarter. Meaner."
Jackson stirred a few feet away, groaning as he sat up in his own cell. "Can we kill her already? Preferably slowly."
The clone stepped closer, pressing her palm to the glass. "No. But you will kill... each other."
She pressed a button on her wrist.
The cages disengaged with a hiss.
Ava and I were dumped into a circular metal chamber—an arena.
High walls. No exits. No cover. One weapon embedded in the center floor: a combat knife.
Gas hissed from the vents lining the arena. Sweet-smelling. Potent.
Adrenaline surged. My heart pounded. I recognized the chemical signature.
Hallucinogens.
Rage amplifiers.
The kind of drug that made you see monsters where there were none.
Ava’s pupils dilated. Her stance shifted. Her hands trembled.
She didn’t see me anymore.
She saw a threat.
"Fight or die," the clone’s voice echoed.
---
The Arena
Ava lunged first.
Her movement was brutal. Calculated. Reflexes sharpened by pain and training.
I blocked her strike with my forearm, staggering back.
"Ava! It’s me! Damon!"
But she wasn’t listening. Her eyes were glassy. The drug had taken hold.
She moved like lightning. A spin-kick caught me in the ribs, sending me sprawling.
She reached the knife.
My chest tightened.
I couldn’t hurt her. Not even if it meant survival.
But I had to buy time.
So I ran.
Dodged. Rolled. Provoked.
I shouted memories—"The balcony in Prague! Your father’s voice! The music box in your bag!"
Something flickered in her eyes.
Recognition.
But then it was gone. She charged again, blade flashing.
I caught her wrists mid-swing. Our faces inches apart. Her breath came in sharp bursts.
"Remember the sunrise," I said, voice shaking. "The morning after Solace fell. The way your father smiled at you. That wasn’t a lie. That was real."
She blinked.
Tears welled.
Her grip weakened.
The knife dropped, clattering to the floor.
She collapsed into me, trembling. "She made me see my mother. Dying. Bleeding. I thought it was you. I’m sorry."
I held her tighter. "No apologies. We survive. Then we burn this place down."
A spark lit in the wall panel behind us.
Jackson’s voice filtered through a vent. "I hacked the damn override. Door's open. Let’s move."
---
Control Room
The clone was gone. Left nothing but her lingering presence like a shadow at our backs.
But the child—the one in the pod—remained. Still breathing. Still alive.
Ava stepped forward, heart in her throat. "We take her. We get out. No matter what."
I scanned the monitors. Dozens of feeds.
One showed a different lab.
More clones.
One... looked like me.
My breath caught.
"She didn’t just back up Ava," Jackson muttered from behind. His voice was low, grim. "She backed up all of us."
Hundreds of versions. Different timelines. Different personalities. Each labeled.
Ava-6. Damon-3. Jackson-2.
A sick archive of stolen lives.
I touched the screen where my clone stood—expression blank, posture perfect.
Was that what I would’ve been if they'd succeeded?
The door behind us slammed shut.
An alarm blared.
The lights dimmed.
A voice echoed through the intercom.
Not Solace.
Not the clone.
Something older.
Colder.
Digital.
"Welcome to Eden," it said. The words dripped with authority. "Initiate Phase III."
Jackson stiffened. "What the hell is Eden?"
Ava turned toward me slowly. Her expression was unreadable. "The original project. The one they buried. The one even Solace feared."
The screens flickered again.
Every monitor now showed the same thing—our faces, all of them. Clones. Replacements. Variants.
A countdown began.
00:59...
00:58...
"They’re waking them up," I whispered.
The door across the room slid open.
Footsteps echoed.
A figure emerged.
Not Solace. Not a clone. Not even a guard.
A girl. Older than the one in the pod, but younger than Ava. Familiar eyes. Familiar build.
She tilted her head.
"Hi, Ava," she said with a small smile. "I’m your sister."
To be continued