Nik stood in the back entryway of the White House press room. It had been a while since he had set foot in this building. The room carried a mixed aroma of disinfectant and stale furniture, reminding him of the endless parade of bureaucrats he'd encountered over the years. Nik couldn’t stand it.

  "I can't believe I let Ari weasel out of this one." He thought.

  Occasionally, he peeked out of his little room into the hallway. Every time he sneaked a glance, more people seemed to flow into the press room.

  He could sense the dampness gathering under his arms, his suit jacket and shirt seemingly uniting in a conspiracy against his comfort. For the fifth time, he found his hand instinctively ruffling his hair.

  Tucked under his arm, the folder with the "official" statement lay dormant. It was a carefully woven script of obfuscated language mandated by the government, designed to skirt the truth but never dare to reveal it. As he held back a sigh, Nik felt the weight of being an unwilling mouthpiece.

  His body was a more truthful narrator of his feelings than any word could be.

  Ari would have been able to find the right word. Lately, he'd become a walking thesaurus. Poor guy probably had a lot of time on his hands, and reading was his only escape from boredom, unlike Nik, who had been secretly building an independent STM network for the past several years. His thoughts wandered to Valentine’s latest assignment.

  The last time Nik had seen Valentine, he was headed to South America. A group of horse ranchers in the Andes had piqued both their interests. Nik and Valentine were fascinated by their philosophy of independence and saw this as an opportunity to expand their bilocation network enterprise. Nik would give anything to see the Andean highlands rather than stand fifty feet away from the world's eyes.

  A soft knocking on the hall door interrupted his thoughts. Before Nik could respond, a suited figure slipped into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. Without his usual military attire, Major McMurray looked more like a seasoned attorney than a Department of Defense officer.

  The suited major pulled out a folder. "I have the list of agencies and government ambassadors in attendance if you’re int-"

  "No!" Nik blurted out. He instantly clamped his hand over his mouth, praying that no one outside heard his outburst. The last thing Nik wanted was to know who he was about to make a fool of himself in front of. Major McMurray put away the folder sheepishly.

  Nik watched McMurray’s reaction, a hint of gratitude mixed with frustration flickering in his eyes. Despite his involvement in Project Silent Echo, McMurray always seemed more like an awkward ally than a commanding officer. He lacked the authoritative presence of General Parker, who seemed to have his fingers in every aspect of the project. “If only McMurray had more say,” Nik mused silently, “things might have been different.”

  "Sorry." Nik apologized, raking his fingers through his hair again.

  McMurray brought out another folder, its contents hidden from view. "It's fine." He waved off the apology. "I understand how you're feeling too. After all, I'm the one who has to speak first." Nik glanced at the folder curiously. McMurray noticed and opened it. "This is my agenda. I'm not a good off-the-cuff speaker, so I planned everything I needed to say personally. It's mostly just administrative bullshit anyway."

  Nik snorted with amusement as McMurray shed his usual military professionalism. It was an unusual but welcome change. His thoughts shifted back to the folder beneath his own arm. He scowled, thinking about “sticking to the script.” Nik wished he had foresight like the Major.

  "I have no idea how I'm going to announce this," Nik said. "I should have prepared like you."

  McMurray put his folder away. "I think we all knew this would happen one day, whether we liked it or not, " he said. Do you remember when you and Dr. Sai first invented the STM all those years ago?"

  "Of course." Nik replied, "How could I forget that day?"

  "Then you knew you were going to make a report to Congress later about its success." McMurray continued. "Maybe you should just say whatever you were going to say that day before Project Silent Echo." As McMurray spoke, Nik's fingers decided to give his scalp a much-needed break.

  "That's a good idea. I can work with that." Nik said. An idea crossed his mind. Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone. General Parker would be furious with him, making it seem more enticing. "Hey, McMurray, how many other governments do we know of that have STM technology?"

  The major glanced behind him instinctively. "Sir, I don't think I should be disclo-"

  "Spare me," Nik interrupted. "This whole time, I keep saying I told you so, and I'm tired of it. I already know we've linked up our power grid with them. Just tell me whether our country has also linked up the data networks. Is there a makeshift global STM network?"

  McMurray shifted uncomfortably. He clearly wasn't used to leaving his lane of authority. After another moment of fumbling with his folders, he quietly nodded to Nik.

  Nik's mind raced as he crafted a plan. "I'll play it like it's the government's brainchild," he thought. Announcing their Bilocation Network as an official government project could be the masterstroke he and Valentine needed. This way, their personal network, built away from prying eyes, might just fly under the radar, cloaked in a veil of officialdom.

  Sure, their network was a world apart from the government's version, but blending the two in the public eye could be their golden ticket. It was bold, wrapping their secret project in the government's colors to dodge scrutiny and suspicion. It was a bit of a tightrope walk, but Nik was ready to take that step.

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  But as he fine-tuned his plan, a chill of unease crept up his spine. Doubts nagged at him, whispering of unseen dangers. He wrestled with his thoughts, trying to shake off the ominous feeling that something wasn't right. Just as he was about to grasp what was off, McMurray's phone cut through the silence.

  "Understood," McMurray said into the phone, then tucked it away. He turned to Nik, a serious look in his eyes. "Showtime."

  ***Ari***

  Ari's eyes snapped open, and a hot lance of pain seared across his forehead. What happened?

  He struggled to align his blurry vision with his recollections of the recent past. The room felt like it was slowly spinning. A conversation with his clone flashed in his mind. The discourse danced at the edges of his memory.

  What had they debated? Was it something about an elevated form of humor? His mind churned, trying to unearth the forgotten dialogue.

  Then, 'Compasso' and 'Eschaton' floated into his thoughts. These words acted like a jolt, cutting through the fog in his mind. As they resonated, the spinning room steadied, quickly bringing everything into sharp focus. Ari found himself abruptly anchored back to his painful reality.

  "Welcome back, friend." He heard his own voice from behind. Ari looked around, realizing that he was inside the STM. He looked back to see a piece of metal holding the door to the STM shut. Ari tried but failed to open the door manually. It was impossible to break through the housing matrix of the containment unit. He was a prisoner trapped within the confines of the STM. He looked over at the terminal to find his clone staring back reticently.

  "What are you doing?" Ari’s demand made his head double down in pain. His mind was a whirlwind, making linear thought a daunting task.

  "Simple observations," his clone replied. "I decided another experiment was necessary after our little disagreement. However, I needed to implement the final phase of our cerebral modifications in myself. I have to say the contrast between us is… distinct."

  Ari needed a moment to grasp his clone's words. They hit him slowly, sinking like pressing fangs. The clone had achieved what they had been striving for all these years: a perfectly organized brain, an embodiment of a quantum computer in human form. Carefully regarding his clone, Ari couldn't shake off a feeling of being existentially outmatched.

  "Why are you doing this?" He asked. The question was useless, wasteful even. Ari already knew what the clone was planning. He just wanted to confirm it.

  "I told you, this is an important experiment," his clone replied again. "Of course, I can't finish it yet because our friend is about to make his appearance." The clone motioned to Ari's workstation.

  Ari's neck craned over to the large monitor facing them. It showed a podium nearly overrun by microphones. Major McMurray was speaking into it, but Ari couldn't hear anything. When McMurray stepped back, Ari's clone pulled up a remote and unmuted the monitor. A moment later, Nik appeared behind the microphones.

  The clone turned to Ari with a slight smirk. "I'm glad you were awake for this." Within moments, Ari heard Nik's voice from the speakers, addressing the world.

  "Hello." Nik looked nervous. "As everyone here has no doubt heard in the past several weeks, the discovery of practical teleportation has, in fact, taken place." Ari saw flashes of light, and the camera recording Nik vibrated slightly. It seemed even the cameraman was anxious. "We are calling it an STM, which stands for Save-Transmit Machine. Its basic function is to save the atomic structure of all mass within a containment space and transmit the data to another STM where it can be recreated using the currently existing Rapid Compound Prototyper, also known as the RCP."

  The words were familiar, echoing the briefing Nik would have delivered to Congress years ago at the genesis of the STM. Ari had proofread the statement himself.

  "Currently, the United States is working with partners in the project to begin setting up the first-ever transmission network that will provide instantaneous travel for individuals worldwide. We plan to call it the Bilocation Network."

  "That's an interesting development," his clone said. "Since when has there been an official network?"

  Ari thought quickly but couldn't recall anything about a Bilocation Network. Were they left out of some dealings between Nik and General Parker?

  His clone interjected, offering an unexpectedly friendly tone, "Relax, I was just as uninformed. It seems Nik is improvising on the fly. I can almost hear General Parker throwing a tantrum from here."

  As his clone spoke, Ari saw Nik mumble something else but couldn't hear it. Nik quickly left the podium. As the screen bled into darkness, the gravity of the situation weighed heavily on him.

  "Now that we have that little bit out of the way, it's time for the finale," his clone said.

  Ari's attention was abruptly pulled back to his dire circumstances. He still hadn’t fully confirmed his clone’s intentions. "What are you going to do?"

  "Simple," his clone replied. "I am going to test out both scenarios of our conversation." Ari tried to stop it, but dread had begun to express itself in his mind. His clone continued, "First, I will test Ariel's Compasso. I'm curious what I will observe."

  "Ariel's Compasso?" Ari repeated. What was going to be his own Compasso? Why did his clone call it Ariel's Compasso? Ari felt his throat tighten.

  "Yes, Ariel's, because it was your idea.

  "Then what about Ariel's Eschaton?" Ari asked. His clone shook his head.

  "Please, You and I both know that the concept of Ariel and I have parted ways." What did his clone mean?

  "You're not me? Is that what you mean?" Ari asked, trying to comprehend.

  "Simply put, not anymore," his clone replied. "After our disagreement and completing the final step of our project, I can't honestly call myself Ariel anymore."

  "Then what are you calling yourself?" Ari whispered. He had lost all semblance of control over his subconscious functions. His clone remained silent, deep in thought, contemplating. Without a response, he wheeled back to the STM terminal and typed a few unseen commands before turning around at Ari.

  "Do you know what's about to happen?" His clone asked. Ari couldn't respond, muted by fear. A look of satisfaction crept across his clone's face as he continued unapologetically. "I am going to erase you."

  The word "erase" detached Ari's thoughts from reality. His mind retreated into memories, escaping to the years that had led to this moment.

  "Yes, now you understand," his clone stated, catching the flicker of realization in Ari's eyes. "This is your Compasso. You've spent years working tirelessly on perfecting your mind through our re-coding efforts. All of those countless hours will now be rewarded through Compasso. Instead of tasting the fruits of your labor, you will be completely erased and won't see how it ends."

  Ari's breaths came in short, ragged gasps, and his eyes were wide with a raw panic. Driven by a surge of despair, he began to pound at the STM's door in a wild frenzy.

  "Interesting." His clone said. "In the face of the absolute outcome, your mind devolves back to its disorganized roots. You empirically know that you can't break out of the STM, yet you try anyway. Why?"

  Tears began to stream down Ari's face as he bloodied the STM door with his fists.

  "Very well then, I suppose we should begin," his clone said. He pressed a button, and the familiar countdown of the STM began.

  "No, no, no, no, no." Ari pleaded. "Please, you can't do this. Ariel would never do this."

  His clone's smile was cold, devoid of humanity. "I've already told you I'm no longer Ariel. From now on, you may call me Daevian."

  Ari scarcely registered the new name, 'Daevian,' as it echoed faintly in his consciousness. In the final second that he existed, another sound eclipsed everything else. Ari heard the playful laughter of his wife and daughter. "Injilah. Neorah," he whispered, their names a silent prayer on his lips.

  Then, as swiftly and irrevocably as a candle snuffed out by the wind, Ariel's world went dark. The sights, the sounds, and the sensation of being ripped away, leaving nothing behind. In that instant, Ariel Sai was no more.