Page 67 of Obsession

"What's a human?" Zokren asked.

Britta rolled her eyes. "I don't have time to explain, but trust me, your people are going to love us one day."

"Enough." Volten shifted my weight. "We need to reach these coordinates." He awkwardly pulled a device from his pocket with his free hand and showed Zokren.

The Drexian's eyes lit up. "I know a shortcut."

Tov readjusted his grip on me as I desperately tried to stay conscious. “We should trust him. If anyone knows the best ways, it would be someone destined to be an Assassin.”

I let my eyes flutter closed as we started to move again, forcing myself to open them when the ground shook and both Volt and Tov stumbled to one side. We made so many turns that I lost all sense of direction, but Zokren led us with certainty.

Finally, he stopped abruptly. "This is the spot."

Tov glanced around the empty corridor. “This is it? I thought we were going to a place to hide.”

Zokren spun around and then looked at Volten. “He is right. It is only a matter of time before someone happens upon us.”

Even Britta looked uncertain. "Are you sure about this?"

"This is the spot." Volten's tone brooked no argument. "As soon as Zav sees our three signatures together, he'll pull us out." He jerked his head at me and looked at Britta. "Hold onto him."

She wrapped her fingers around my arm, and warmth buzzed through me through my uniform shirt. I tried to manage a smile even as the ground rumbled.

“Come on, Zav,” Britta whispered.

Nothing happened.

"We're going to end up back in the dungeons." Tov’s words were barely a whisper.

I turned to meet Volten's gaze. "I hope you're right, and he’s wrong.”

Heavy footsteps thundered from the far end of the hallway. A group of Drexians rounded the corner, weapons drawn as they spotted us.

Time was up.

Chapter

Forty-Seven

Britta

Iheld onto Kann as his shallow breaths rattled in his chest. The simulation had stopped flickering so often, which should have been a good sign, but we were still trapped inside it. My fingers trembled as I held onto his arm, my own breath hitching in my throat as I waited to be pulled from the simulation.

But something else was wrong. I'd worked with enough holo-programs to know that NPCs shouldn't be able to adapt beyond their parameters. But Tov and Zokren were far from the typical character that inhabited a simulation. They were more complex, more real. They responded to situations in ways that weren't programmed, showed understanding that shouldn't be possible. Even though it had worked to our benefit since they were helping us escape, I couldn’t help the uneasy feeling building in my gut.

What happened when a holo-program evolved? When characters became sentient? Was that why we couldn’t leave?Was this world becoming just as real as the one waiting for us? Was this world becoming too real to abandon?

Stop it. I forced the thoughts away. Focus on Kann. Focus on getting him out alive.

I glanced at his face, the bronze skin pale. He did not look good. He drew in a ragged breath, and the knife twisted in my heart. Even if we escaped the program, Kann's life hung by a thread. The thought of losing him made my eyes burn with unwanted tears.

I blinked rapidly so they wouldn’t fall. What the hell was wrong with me? I never cried. Never. I'd survived the Kronock attack on Earth, survived losing my family, survived every other terrible thing without breaking. But the mere thought of losing Kann made my heart ache as if a hand was reaching inside my chest.

But I knew what was wrong. It was Kann who had crept into my heart. It was the confident Drexian who had managed to weasel his way in and occupy a place that no other guy ever had. He was the reason it hurt to breathe. He was the reason I felt like I was spinning out of control.

I tightened my grip on his arm, as if holding on tighter would keep him alive, would keep him with me.

"You have to survive," I whispered, too low for the others to hear. "Youhaveto."

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