(Romancing the Beat – "Break Into Three")
(Theme: "Real strength comes from facing what you fear most—with the people who see the real you.")
---
Let me set the scene.
There's a bomb under the table. No, literally. There's a countdown blinking red in the corner of the lab, and guess who set it? Yep. Dear old Daddy Dearest. Because what's the fun in a family reunion if there isn't some explosive drama?
We have 58 minutes left. And no pressure, but if we don't figure out how to disable it, not only does the lab go kaboom, but so does the data, the antidote, and the only way to undo what he did to me.
Cool, cool, cool.
Anyway, Elia's pacing like a caffeinated tiger. Gabe's hacking into the security mainframe with the calm of someone who's done this too many times (which is, honestly, a little hot), and I'm... trying not to lose my mind.
"You okay?" Elia asks, pausing mid-pace.
I give her my best sarcastic smile. "Totally. Just processing the fact that my father's a sociopath who turned me into a science experiment and then decided to blow everything up for giggles."
She nods. "Healthy. Very grounded reaction."
Gabe doesn't look up from his keyboard. "You're deflecting."
I shoot him a look. "Yes. It's either this or panic vomiting on your shoes."
He shrugs. "Fair."
Then the screen glitches. Once. Twice. And then—
"I'm in," Gabe says, voice low and sharp.
We crowd around him. Lines of code scroll like something out of The Matrix, and honestly, I don't know what I'm looking at, but Gabe's eyes narrow like he just saw something awful.
"What is it?" I ask.
He doesn't answer immediately, which is always a bad sign. "There's a lock on the main override. Triple-encrypted. And if I'm reading this right, triggering it wrong even once speeds up the countdown."
Of course it does.
"Can we get around it?" Elia asks.
"I can try. But we need a fallback."
I exhale. "There's a failsafe in my neural system. Dad mentioned it once. A way to shut it all down."
Elia's eyes widen. "Wait, you're the backup kill switch?"
I nod. "Yup. Just plug me in and hope I don't fry like a toaster strudel."
---
T-minus 47 minutes.
We split up. Gabe continues decoding the lock. Elia digs through files, searching for anything that could give us an edge. And I head to the center of the lab, where the biometric port waits like a guillotine.
I stare at it for a long moment.
It's funny. All my life I've been trying to get away from this place. From what it made me. But now I'm back, willingly plugging myself in like a sacrificial battery.
I hear footsteps behind me. Gabe.
He holds out a wire. "You sure?"
"Not even a little."
He smirks. "Attagirl."
I sit, hook up the cable to the implant behind my ear, and wince as the system kicks in. A flood of data rushes through me—painful, electric, chaotic. Memories I forgot. Others that were never mine.
And then... I see it. A door. Digital. Sealed.
And behind it—truth.
I push forward. My body trembles, but I focus. I have to do this. For Elia. For Gabe. For me.
Suddenly—static. A sharp noise in my ears. And then his voice.
"You really thought you could stop me?"
Of course he left a virus in my mind. Because even when he's not here physically, he still finds ways to ruin everything.
"I'm not scared of you anymore," I whisper.
His laugh crackles through the neural interface. "You should be."
I push deeper. Past his voice. Past the fear. And suddenly—click. The door opens.
---
T-minus 32 minutes.
Gabe yells something from the console. "Whatever you did, it's working! Systems are slowing!"
But then—the lights flicker. Sirens wail. And the countdown display goes haywire.
New time remaining: Fifteen minutes.
Of course.
Elia rushes to me. "We need a Plan B. Like now."
Gabe's still typing furiously. "I'm close. Just keep her conscious."
That's easier said than done.
The pain in my head spikes like a jackhammer. My vision blurs. I feel blood at my nose. But I don't stop.
"You got this," Elia says, gripping my shoulder.
I glance at her. And something in her expression hits me—like an emotional sucker punch.
She's terrified.
Not for the lab. Not for the world. For me.
And that's when it clicks.
This isn't about saving the world. It never was.
It's about saving each other.
---
T-minus 10 minutes.
"Gabe!" Elia shouts. "Talk to me!"
He slams a hand on the console. "The system's rejecting the override. I need another access point."
Elia turns to me. "What if we go analog?"
My brain's barely working, but I manage to croak out, "The main power core. Cut it directly."
"That'll destroy everything," Gabe says.
"Exactly," I whisper. "A full wipe. No more virus. No more code. No more me."
He looks at me like I just told him puppies are fake. "You're not serious."
I laugh, even though it hurts. "Kind of my brand."
"No. There's another way. There has to be."
I meet his eyes. "If you had to choose between saving me and stopping him… what would you do?"
Gabe swallows. "Don't make me choose."
But the look in my eyes says it all.
He nods.
---
T-minus 5 minutes.
We run.
Gabe and Elia take separate corridors, racing toward the generator. I stagger to follow but collapse in the middle of the hall.
And then—Elia's arms are under mine, dragging me up.
"You're not dying in a hallway, Gray," she mutters. "That's so not your style."
I laugh weakly. "Thanks for the pep talk."
The lab shudders. Lights dim. Somewhere, metal groans like the whole place is holding its breath.
Elia reaches the terminal. Gabe appears from the opposite side.
"One minute," he shouts.
I look at them. "Do it."
They hesitate. So I scream it: "DO IT!"
Gabe slams his hand on the kill switch.
Everything goes dark.
---
**…
Silence.**
Then—beeping.
Not the bad kind. The hospital kind.
I wake up on a stretcher, blinking at the emergency lights. Gabe is beside me, covered in soot, smiling like a dumb idiot who just did something heroic.
"You died for twelve seconds," he says.
"Oh," I croak. "That's all?"
"Lightweight."
I laugh. Elia appears behind him, smirking. "Told you she's too stubborn to stay dead."
And me? I just lie there, smiling through the pain, thinking maybe, just maybe, I'm finally free.