#The Girl who shouldn't exist
#003
The glass cracked beneath Asher's boot as he stepped over a fallen drone, its screen still flickering a static-laced ad for Bliss injections. The air in Ether District smelled like rain, neon, and regret.
"I told you we shouldn't be here," Eden muttered, hugging her coat tighter around her.
"You said that five blocks ago," Asher replied, scanning the rooftop ledge. "And yet, here we are."
"This part of the district was quarantined after the last neural leak. You know what that means, right? People started seeing things, Asher. Talking to walls. Killing themselves."
Asher didn't respond right away. Instead, he crouched and ran his fingers over a faint scorch mark on the rooftop. Circular. Precise. Not fire. Not natural.
"Someone used a synaptic eraser here," he said quietly. "High-grade. Military spec."
Eden blinked. "What? Why would anyone—"
"That's what I want to find out."
She stared at him, frustration bubbling just beneath her skin. "Why do you care? You're not exactly the save-the-world type."
He stood slowly, turning to her. "Because someone tried to erase a memory that wasn't theirs. That tech can only be used on memories implanted… or stolen."
Eden's expression changed. "Like yours."
"Exactly."
A low beep vibrated against his wrist. Asher tapped his console, and a 3D projection flickered to life—an image of a young girl, maybe eight years old, standing barefoot in the rain, staring straight into the camera.
Eden gasped.
"She looks like..."
"I know." Asher's voice was low. "The girl from my fragment."
"But that's impossible. That memory was sealed, erased. How could she—"
"She shouldn't exist," Asher interrupted. "But she does. And she left a trail."
Eden shook her head. "You're chasing ghosts. And if someone went through the trouble of deleting that memory, then finding her means—"
"Means I finally get answers."
They stared at each other for a moment, tension humming like static between them.
Eden looked away first. "You're going to get yourself killed."
Asher smirked. "Probably. But at least I'll die knowing who I am."
A sudden hiss echoed behind them.
Eden spun. "Did you hear that?"
"Too late," Asher said.
A black figure leapt from the shadows—cloaked in static, almost invisible. Eden screamed.
But Asher was already moving.
He ducked low, grabbing the fallen drone and swinging it upward. The metal slammed into the attacker's mask, cracking it with a sharp crunch. The figure reeled back, but not before a blade sliced across Asher's side.
He grunted, twisting around to land a precision elbow to the figure's neck. It staggered, flickering in and out of visibility before crashing to the ground, unconscious.
"Who the hell are these people?" Eden asked, kneeling beside the attacker.
Asher crouched too, pulling the mask off. Inside was a pale face with hollow eyes—and a barcode etched across the forehead.
Eden recoiled. "That's... a Null."
"They've upgraded," Asher said. "This one isn't blank. It's augmented."
He opened his console and scanned the barcode. The screen flashed red.
> ACCESS DENIED: CLASSIFIED MEMORY
Asher narrowed his eyes. "Someone really doesn't want me remembering."
Eden looked at him. "So, what now?"
He stood, rain starting to fall again, heavier this time. The city blurred into neon streaks behind him.
"Now?" Asher said, tightening his coat. "Now we find the girl who shouldn't exist. And when we do, we burn down whatever hell built her."
***
[End of Chapter Three]