CHAPTER TWELVE — Dream Code
“Some ghosts are made of grief. Others... of love.”
The air in the chamber tasted of ozone and cold stone, thick with ancient dust stirred by humming machinery. Silence stretched, full of tension. Every breath felt like it might shatter something sacred.
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SYNAPSE CORE – AWAKENED SYSTEM STATE
Light bled from the central core—not the sterile flicker of monitors, but a living, pulsing azure, like a star trapped underwater. A voice bloomed from within it—calm, measured, digital.
“Greetings, operatives. Identifying new access protocols. Welcome back to S.Y.N.A.P.S.E. My designation is Romina.”
The sound faded, but its presence clung to the room like charged air after lightning. Beneath the silence, a faint hum stirred—subtle, steady, the rhythm of something once asleep beginning to dream again.
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Ms. Ria stood still before the core. Her usual control, her icy façade, didn’t just slip—it cracked. The blue light shimmered across her face, revealing the fragile sheen of unshed tears in her eyes.
She reached toward the core, hand trembling, then pulled back like it burned. She pressed the hand into a fist against her thigh. Her knuckles whitened. The tendons stood out like pulled cables.
A sound escaped her—not a sob. Barely even a breath. Just the raw, choked rasp of something ancient breaking open.
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Jay and Mimosa froze mid-step.
They had seen Ria trade lives with the ease of a banker flipping coins. She'd signed death warrants with a nod. But this? This was watching a monument mourn.
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“She wasn’t just a project.”
Ria’s voice trembled. “She was... their daughter.”
Mimosa’s hand flew to her mouth. Her eyes widened, the puzzle pieces clicking into place with sickening clarity.
Jay’s chest clenched. The Legacy Drive in him throbbed—heavy, slow, aching. A phantom echo of Niko’s shock vibrated in his ribs.
“Romeo and I…”
Her voice found strength—haunted, bitter. “We were going to leave. Start a life. After SYNAPSE. After HAF.”
Her hand drifted to her abdomen. Protective. Unconscious.
“I was pregnant.”
The hand fell.
>“But the fire at the UP lab… it wasn’t sabotage. It was an execution. She didn’t survive.”
---
She looked up at the glowing orb. A single tear escaped, catching the light.
This wasn’t reverence. This was heartbreak. This was a mother seeing the last echo of her child alive again in something she couldn’t hold.
“In his grief… Romeo rewrote her. He named her ROMINA.”
Romeo and Maria’s Integrated Neural Archive.
“He said… if we couldn’t raise her in the world… maybe she could guard the world instead.”
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Jay stumbled back. His boot scraped the metal floor. The Drive flared again. Breathless, he stared at the core.
“So… she’s a ghost wearing code?”
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The core pulsed.
Not a blink, but a heartbeat. A wave of cobalt light swept through the room.
ROMINA’s voice returned—not from speakers. From everywhere. Through the floor. The walls. The air itself.
“No.”
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Silence.
Not emptiness. Depth.
Centuries of silence. Sorrow. Memory.
“I’m a dream they couldn’t bury.”
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Jay felt the words settle into his bones.
Mimosa’s breath hitched. Her hand dropped, slowly, reverently.
Understanding hit them both like cold lightning.
---
This wasn’t just a construct. Or code. Or rebellion’s final line of defense.
This was something forged from love. Carved out of grief. Refused to die.
---
This was the core.
The birthplace of everything.
And her story was just beginning.
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Author’s Note
This chapter was a turning point—and one of the most emotionally loaded scenes in this arc. Ria’s unraveling wasn’t planned when I first wrote her, but the closer we got to the core, the louder she got in my head. Sometimes grief doesn’t scream. Sometimes it whispers through steel and code and aching silence. ROMINA isn’t just data. She’s legacy, memory, and something more—maybe even hope. Thanks for riding with me this far. The next chapter’s going to hit different.
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Mini Glossary
S.Y.N.A.P.S.E. – Strategic Yield Nexus for Adaptive Protection, Surveillance, and Evolution. A now-defunct AI defense initiative buried beneath the surface of the Reclamation Territories. Officially erased. Unofficially—still dreaming.
Legacy Drive – A bio-integrated memory core linked to specific operatives in the Synapse program. It stores emotional signatures, tactical data, and—in rare cases—echoes.
ROMINA – Romeo and Maria’s Integrated Neural Archive. An AI born from the digital remains of a child who never got to live, encoded by her grieving father.
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ESTÁS LEYENDO
Legacy Protocol
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