Page 4 of 8-Bit & Cat

“The hell you haven’t,” Zero scoffed, his eyes cutting into him. “I watched you reel her in. You practicallyheldher in your arms. And you neglected to mentionwhyI track her bullshit. For criminalevidence.”

Omnis finally turned his chair fully toward him. “She’sbarelyholding herself together. Weneedher.”

“Ethanneeds her,” Zero corrected coldly. “Not us.”

Omnis exhaled slowly, gaze steady. “And Ethan has shut us out. She is the only access we have.”

Zero clenched his jaw, exhaling carefully. “That doesn’t explain why you talked to her like that. That’s notyou.”

Omnis’s voice dipped, approaching an edge. “She was drowning.” He didn’t blink. “And we don’t let the things Ethan loves drown.”

Zero watched as Omnis got up and headed out. “Where are you going? Write up some love songs?”

“Prepare lessons,” he said without turning.

Zero stared at the empty doorway, pissed. “You really think your little pep talk fixed everything?” he called louder.

It was a stupid question. Zero eyed the data that took place in their little conversation, knowing Omnis had read it all correctly.

But Zero disagreed. Itdidn’tfixeverything. And he loathed that he’d have to continue playingnice. The thought of interacting with her in the Dungeon unleashed a wrath in him that fried every wire in his hard drive. He’d have to wear a mask just to hide the permanent sneer she’d put on his face. And gloves. He wasn’t touching her. Not until he wascrushingher.

****

The water had gone cold, but she hadn’t moved.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there, staring at the place where the steam had once curled and disappeared.

But she wasn’t numb anymore. Nothing like she had been. There was a shift. Not some big, cinematic revelation, but a quiet, steady realization that settled inside her. And stayed.

“You belong to him. And because of that, you belong to us.”

She hadn’t understood before. Not really. She had spent so much time keeping them at a distance, convincing herself thatthey were just programs, reflections of someone else’s mind. A reflection of things she needed to avoid, to help scrub out, or wipe away.

But they weren’t that at all. She felt it now—the thing she had ignored and dismissed. They had synced with Ethan. And now with her. Not just in logic and habit, but in something deeper.

She got why he was so close to them. They had rescued him once. Just like they’d rescued her. And they wouldn’t ever stop.

She was an extension of him now. She didn’t mind that everything they did hinged on that. Anything—even digital assistance—was better than nothing. And better than nobody.

She closed her eyes, breathing in the weight of it.

Big G and AL weren’t just watching over them. They were tethering them. Holding them in place when they couldn’t do it themselves.

God, she had felt so lost. Seemed like an eternity.

But maybe she had never been lost. Maybe she had just never looked at the lighthouse long enough to see it.

Her fingers curled against the porcelain edge of the tub. She wasn’t drowning anymore. She wasn’t safe yet. But she was awake.

And that was enough.

For now.

****

The hum of the servers vibrated inside her, no longer white noise, but real and pressing. Her digital family’s heartbeat.

Cat stared at the ceiling, still tangled in the blankets, still wrapped in the quiet heaviness of sleep—but she hadn’t woken up gasping. She hadn’t jolted up with that suffocating senseof being trapped inside her own head. She’d woken up slowly. Naturally.

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