A wall of screens loomed on the far end of the room, dark in their inactivity, power thrumming quietly through the room as some unseen source powered them. Vivainne remained in her place, halfway across the room, unable to move forward. If those computers didn’t hold the answers she needed, she didn’t know what she was going to do.

  There will be answers.

  She forced herself to move, body jerking like a puppet being puppeteered by a toddler, and stumbled up to the computers. Her hands slammed into the edge of the countertop, the glass jamming into her palms as she caught herself against it. Pushing herself upright, she grabbed the chair and pulled it over, wheels clacking loudly against the floor. She winced, hoping the walls were thick enough no one could hear, and dropped into the seat.

  She expected to have to figure out her mother’s password to access the computer, but the moment she touched the mouse, it came to life. Most of the screens were full of some sort of research, or pages of numbers she couldn’t make sense of. One on the far right held the blueprint of the prosthetic core, recognizable from Monet Industries’ lab.

  The screen in front of her was the only one not currently occupied with something or another, files organized across the monitor. Scanning their names, she clicked into one, realizing quickly it wasn’t what she needed. She clicked out of it, but not before the image of a dissected brain burned itself to the inside of her eyelids.

  God, what had her mother done?

  She’d killed people. How had no one found out?

  Hand trembling on the mouse as she slid it closer to herself, she selected another file, this one titled: legacy.

  She knew before she even opened it that it would hold what she needed. Her mother was all about the future, her own future. Vivainne and Vanya were pieces of that. Vora’s attempt at recreating herself, if she couldn’t figure out how to preserve her own mortality. The fact that supers could live far longer than normal humans didn’t matter,

  She clicked on the first subject under the file. A video appeared on screen, a sonogram of a pregnancy, the small form of a baby outlined in black and white pixels. Silence followed as the video changed, entering a clinical white room with a hospital bed. A woman lay there, and Vivainne believed it was her mother for no more than a second before the camera panned to the woman’s face. Gaunt, tired, and patchy with red flesh, tears rolled down her face as she reached out for something.

  That something became apparent as Vora lifted a sleeping child from a cot, a crying bundle wrapped up in a white swaddle. Was that Vivainne? But hadn’t Vora given birth to Vivainne herself?

  “Wonderful.” Vora’s voice was cold, a shiver wrapped up in a winter wind as she filmed the child. Her attention returned to the woman who’d just given birth. “Thank you for your service.”

  “Can’t I hold her?”

  “No.”

  The scene changed once more, no longer in a hospital room but rather the dark of Vora’s lab. The baby, now unswaddled, squirmed on a table, precariously close to the edge.

  “Shhh,” Vora came in from off screen, holding a tool in her hand. “Quiet, Vanessa. This won’t hurt…”

  Vivainne jolted. Vanessa? Who the hell was Vanessa?

  On screen, the baby began to scream. Not Vivainne, this was a different child. Was this older than her? Younger than her? She’d asked. Vora told her that Vanya was the only other one.

  Liar.

  Where had Vanessa gone?

  “No naturally occurring core,” Vora said, disappointment crisp in her voice. “Genetic material from two supers, and birthed by another. What is the determining factor?”

  In the next log, the girl was perhaps a year old, sitting on the floor as Vora watched her. “Still no sign of core development. Subject one is a failure, in that area.” She lifted the child and walked to the camera, turning it off. The girl’s eyes, wide and full of light, haunted Vivainne.

  Vanessa again filled the screen, chest rising and falling lightly as Vora stood over her, hands gloves and body covered in medical scrubs. “Test two,” she spoke monotonously to the camera. “Can a subject be implanted with a core?”

  To the left of the screen, someone screamed. Vivainne jumped at the unexpected sound, watching the camera pan to a grown woman strapped to a table, eyes dilated as she fought against her restraints. “Attempt one to implant a core,” Vora continued. “I will attempt to integrate a formed and functional core into subject one.”

  Vivainne clicked to the next video before she could watch her mother carve open her baby sister, terrified of what she would see. She could hardly breathe, struggling to suck in air through her nose, afraid if she opened her mouth she’d get sick. Had little Vanessa survived the experiment? Was that why her mother said she and Vanya were the only ones?

  What happened to the woman the core was taken from?

  Vivainne scrolled through files, searching until she found one dated shortly before her own birth.

  The camera came into focus on Vora with a large, round belly, hand resting gently atop it. “Subject two is under way,” she said to the camera, swaying slightly in place. Her face had grown round, soft, in a way it hadn’t been before. “Same genetic donor as the first for the father. The middleman has been eliminated.”

  Shortly after, Vora carried a young child in her arms, this one undoubtedly Vivainne. “My little Vivainne,” Vora said, whispering softly as she rocked the child. “I cannot help but hope this one was a success. Not only because she is known to the public, but because I carried her.” A smile flitted across her mother’s face before she laid Vivainne on a table, pulling scanners into place above her.

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  There were no screams this time. Vivainne watched in rapt attention as her mother inspected infant Vivainne, a satisfied smile growing on her face. “Core detected,” she said in a quiet voice. “Subject two is a success.” A finger brushed along the side of the infant’s face, a gentle caress. “I knew you would be.”

  The next video didn’t start off with commentary from Vora. It simply clicked on and followed a babbling toddler around a room. Light flashed from the little girl’s hands.

  A gasp escaped Vivainne’s lips before she could slap a hand over her mouth, unwilling to believe what she was seeing. Light? How was she manipulating light? She didn’t have a light core. She had a shadow core, just like Vora.

  “Subject two’s core has developed,” Vora said, tense behind the screen as she panned around the room, following Vivainne. “A light core.” The words were clipped, sending a shiver down Viv’s spine as she sat in the chair of the very room her mother was filming from.

  Vivainne pressed a hand to her chest. What happened between then and now? When had her core changed?

  What had her mother done?

  She didn't want to keep going but she had to, pressing into the next video even as she swallowed back bile. She had to find out what her mother had done to her. She needed to know.

  The next video began exactly where she thought it was, with a scene that had haunted her nightmares since she was young. Vivainne sat in a chair, her arms and legs strapped down, tiny feet kicking aimlessly in the air. She hadn't been afraid of her mother before then, and even in the moment, she didn't scream.

  At least, she hadn't started yet.

  Vora turned to the camera, set up on a table to the right of the little girl. She once again wore blue gloves on her hands, a detail that had vanished from Viv's mind long ago. “Trial number fifteen, imposing a pseudo-prosthetic core on a living subject. Subject two has a functional power core, exhibiting light powers.”

  She lifted a small device from the table, a soft ball that lost its form in her hand, something that hardly resembled tech and yet couldn't be mistaken for anything but a core. Was it a real super's core, like with her first experiment? “Attempt one underway. To implant a farmed, functional, moldable core and change her power.”

  Rounded nails dug into Vivainne's face as she watched, unable to tear her eyes away even as her mother transformed the chair into an operating table and cut into Vivainne’s chest.

  “If this implant is successful, I will be able to copy a power over from a preexisting power core,” Vora explained to the camera. “This core is empty. I won’t waste the shadow super before I’m certain this experiment will function as intended.”

  Blood pooled around a small incision as Vora clamped the wound open, slipping the moldable core into Vivainne. With deft fingers, she closed the wound and left the room. When she returned, she had a woman in tow, and at a single touch, the wound healed.

  The healer left as Vivainne stirred, Vora changing the table once more until Viv was seated again. Her head lulled, black hair covering her face in strings as she awoke. Vora knelt in front of the girl, reaching a hand up to lift her chin as her eyes blinked open.

  “How do you feel?” Vora asked, her voice calm, as if she hadn’t just sliced open her daughter and slipped something inside her. If she was emotional, it would have been better, but she was so calm it was eerie.

  “Hungry,” Vivainne said.

  “Where would you like to eat?” her mother asked, and the words echoed in Vivainne’s memory. She knew what was coming. Her brain screamed to turn it off. She didn’t need to see. Didn’t need to see it happen again. But she couldn’t stop from watching.

  “Donuts?” Young Vivainne asked hopefully.

  “As soon as I’m done,” Vora said, passing her daughter on the cheek. “One last thing, baby. And everything will be okay.”

  Vora pressed a hand to Young Vivainne’s chest, over the newly healed wound.

  She clicked on the next video, fingers numb against the keyboard. “Implant successfully installed,” Vora said to the camera, pride beaming from her face. She stepped back, giving a view of the same room. Vivainne lay on one bed, and an unknown super on a second, both unconscious.

  “I can’t risk damaging my own core,” Vora was saying, voice fading as she walked around the table. “But I’ve acquired another shadow core, and I’ll be copying the power over into my Vivainne.”

  This time, she didn’t use any tools or knives. She simply shut her eyes, extending a hand over the super’s chest. The film warped, light disrupted as the super began to convulse in their sleep, fighting against Vora as she ripped something from their soul.

  She turned, hand cupped, holding a squirming ball of darkness between her fingers.

  Vora brought her hand over Vivainne’s chest, flipped it upside down, and slammed it into the little girl’s chest.

  Darkness exploded from Vora, sharper than any shadows should be, a strange edge to them as they flowed down Vora’s arm, where they pierced through the puddle of shadow power into Vivainne.

  Young Vivainne started screaming.

  The screen went dark, powering off with a soft click. Vivainne gasped, suddenly aware she hadn’t been breathing, gulping in a lungful of air as fast as she could. She could still feel the shadows piercing her chest. Piercing her core. Her core…

  Hands closed on the chair from behind, pulling her out from the desk. “You shouldn’t be watching that,” Recompense said, his voice low and without malice. “It won’t give you what you want.”

  “I—”

  “Vivainne.” He spun the chair gently around, turning her to face him. He knelt in front of her, their eyes meeting through the masks. “It is not healthy for you to watch this.”

  “I just wanted to know.” The words were hardly audible, scratching the back of her throat as tears ran down her face. When she’d started crying, she didn’t know.

  “Did you get the answers you wanted?”

  She opened her mouth, trying to force the answer out around a choking sob. She couldn’t let it out yet. She wasn’t done. “No.”

  A sigh escaped from Recompense’s mask. “That’s the problem with these sorts of situations, Vivainne. You never get the answers you want. Trying to explain away what happened to you is natural, but what your mother has done is not justifiable. You aren’t going to find the conclusion you want.”

  Vivainne turned away from him, staring out at the room. The room stared back, pain lingering in the space, locked into the dark tiles, staining the walls. She’d been cut open here, had something thrust inside her, had her reality altered. What was she now? What had happened to her original core? What had her mother done to her?

  Recompense was right. She wouldn’t find those answers here.

  She sucked in a breath, pain piercing between her ribs to reach her lungs. “I know,” she managed, looking back at the hero. “What else do you need me to do?”

  “Nothing,” he said, pushing to his feet. “Let’s get you home.”

  He held out a hand for her, a deep maroon leather glove covering his palm. She took the offered hand, pulling herself to her feet even as her body shook, trembling as if she’d run ten miles. He whispered something into his comms and the world before them warped, the familiar face of The Path appearing on the other side of the rift.

  Recompense stepped through, guiding Vivainne along with him. The rift sealed shut behind them.

  She reached for the mask, halfway to removing it when she realized they weren’t back at the Tower. Though a mildly familiar space, she couldn’t decide where she recognized it from, turning in a circle to take it all in.

  “You’re back at my house,” Recompense said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Jordan, will you show her to her bedroom?”

  Bedroom?

  “Are you going back?”

  “I’m going to make sure everything gets taken care of properly,” Recompense said. “Don’t worry, Vivainne. Everything is under control.”

  Her mouth halfway open, Vivainne paused, realizing she had no reason to protest. Instead, she nodded and let herself be led away.

  Jordan brought her to a large bedroom, where she promptly kicked off her boots and tight jeans and collapsed onto the sturdy mattress. Before she had a chance to think about everything she’d seen and learned, she faded out of consciousness. In her dreams, she screamed.