The Edge of the Map

Jessica stared at the monitor.

The words Lazarus Vellum still flickered on the screen, half a century of classified data condensed into a single name. It should have meant nothing. It should have been just another ghost, another relic from the past, but the words felt etched into her bones. She exhaled, slow, measured. Steady hands, steady voice. That was the trick. If she let even a crack show, it would break her wide open.

She turned away from the terminal. Her body moved on instinct. Her mind refused to follow.

Leanna was speaking, but Jessica barely heard her. The room was too bright, too sharp, each detail pressing against the inside of her skull. Whitaker was watching her. She felt it.

“Still with us, 04?”

Her stomach tightened. Not Jessica. Not even a name. Just a number.

Her pulse hammered once, loud in her ears, but she forced a smirk—a performance. She had played this role before. Hold the line. Don’t let them see.

“Your bedside manner is terrible, Whitaker.”

He chuckled dryly, but she could hear the calculation in it. He was testing her.

Jessica turned back to the monitors, eyes fixed on the screen as though the pixels could somehow tether her to reality. She wasn’t LZ-04. She wasn’t a program. She was Jessica Sanchez. But even as the thought formed, it rang hollow.

---

Leanna took point as they moved toward the upper levels, her rifle up, scanning the darkened corridors. Olivia followed close behind, focused on the data drive she had pulled from the control room. Whitaker, weak from years of confinement, kept pace in slow, uneven strides.

Jessica brought up the rear. Her footsteps felt too heavy. Too real. It was a lie. Everything was a lie. She tried to push the thought away, tried to keep moving forward, but the walls around her felt familiar in ways they shouldn’t.

A memory surfaced—or maybe it wasn’t a memory at all. A cold metal chair. A voice overhead.

"What do you call yourself?"

Jessica swallowed hard. She forced her shoulders back, kept her expression neutral. Steady hands. Steady voice. She wasn’t going to break. Not here. Not now.

They reached the stairwell, the air thick with damp and dust. The way out was still far above them. Jessica hesitated, fingers gripping the railing.

That was when Whitaker spoke again. “You’re holding onto something,” he mused. “Some idea of yourself. But tell me… if you strip away the memories, the name, the history, what’s left?”

Jessica didn’t look at him. “You tell me.”

Whitaker sighed, shaking his head. “Nothing. That’s the point.”

Jessica forced a breath through her teeth. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

She started up the stairs. Step by step, floor by floor, Jessica tried to anchor herself to something real. But every thought splintered the deeper she dug.

Who was she?

Sam’s voice echoed from some distant, better moment. “Nietzsche says: ‘He who has a why to live can bear almost any how.’”

Her fingers curled tighter around the railing. She had a why. She had to have a why. If she stopped moving, if she let herself sink into the truth, she would disappear. So she lied.

I am Jessica Sanchez.

The thought tasted like iron. I am Jessica Sanchez. Even if the name meant nothing to them. It still meant everything to her.

She clenched her jaw and kept climbing.

---

They reached Sublevel 1.

Leanna slowed. “Something’s wrong.”

Jessica inhaled sharply, forcing herself back into the moment. “What?”

Leanna gestured to the door ahead. “We should have hit resistance by now. Either Vanguard sent someone in after us, or…”

She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t have to.

Olivia frowned. “…or someone made sure the way out stayed clear.”

Jessica checked her pistol. The weight felt reassuring, solid. Tangible.

The team pressed forward, past empty rooms, past consoles still humming with low, residual power. Her mind was slipping again, the sound snapped it back. Jessica stopped cold. It was the soft and deliberate sound of boots on concrete. Leanna caught her eye. More than one set of footsteps.

Jessica exhaled slowly. “We’re not alone.”

Leanna nodded once. “Then let’s not waste time.” She pressed forward, rifle raised. Jessica followed. Whatever was waiting for them, she was ready. Even if she had to lie to herself one last time.