What It Means To Be a Monster.

“You either love someone in some way until the day you die, or you never loved them at all.”

Path of Exidus – Chapter 41: What It Means to Be a Monster

Ever since I met you again, Juno, I’ve known something was wrong. You smile, you laugh, you bleed like the rest of us—but every word out of your mouth is a blade turned backward. You lie, and you do it so well it feels like the truth.

That’s your nature. You pretend. You make people believe you’re harmless. You tell them what they need to hear, just enough to keep them close, just enough to keep them blind. And all the while, you’re hiding what you really are.

A liar isn’t human.

A liar doesn’t care who they break, so long as the lie survives.

That’s why you’re dangerous. Because you’ve wrapped yourself in the skin of a boy I used to know. You’re using his face, his voice, his everything—to trick the people I swore to protect.

And Sylvaine… she’s already close enough to believe you. Already close enough that she can’t see it. That’s what you do, isn’t it? You make people think they’re safe when the truth is, you’re hollow. You don’t feel the way we do. You don’t hesitate the way we do. You’ll take from her—from anyone—without even blinking.

I know what it means to be a monster.

It isn’t fangs or claws that make one. It’s words. Every promise, every smile, every lie—another chain dragging someone closer to rot.

And I won’t let you drag her down with you.

The desert stretched wide and empty, its silence drawn tight like a noose.

Gideon stopped first. He stood with the machine looming at his side, its red visor burning against the wind. Cassian settled a step behind him, cigarette glowing faintly in the dusk, his rifle resting in his hands, while Rilke just watched curiously, unsure of the situation. The four of them formed a line.

Across from them, apart, only Sylvi and I remained. Just the two of us against their wall. I could feel her shoulder brushing mine, the last thread tying me to anything human.

The air refused to move. Every eye was locked on us.

Then the robot’s helm flickered, its voice metallic and hollow:

“Helix circuitry anomaly detected. Forty-seven feet.”

Its red slit fixed on me.

Gideon didn’t move, didn’t flinch. His hand extended toward Sylvi, fingers stiff as stone.

“Come here.”

Her grip on my arm tightened. “What?”

“You don’t belong at his side.” His voice cracked on the edge of pleading and command. “Sylvaine. Step away from him. Walk over here. Now.”

Her eyes darted to me—searching, desperate, like maybe I could give her an answer he couldn’t. “Juno…”

My throat locked. I wanted to tell her not to move. I wanted to fight for her. But Gideon’s words had already filled the air like smoke, choking everything between us.

Cassian flicked ash from his cigarette, voice low and coaxing. “Come on, girl. Don’t make it harder. At least until we can figure out what the hell is wrong with him.”

Gideon’s hand trembled. His voice dropped into something bare, something fragile.

“I swore I’d protect you. Even if it meant tearing him down myself. Please… just walk.”

Her fingers twitched against mine. I saw the conflict in her eyes, saw the weight dragging her away from me. Slowly, I exhaled, lifted my hand, and ushered her to go.

Her lips parted in disbelief. “…You—”

But I didn’t say a word.

The moment she pulled her hand from my sleeve, the cold rushed in like a blade. I felt the space between us widen with every step she took. Her cloak trailed through the sand, her head bowed, until she crossed the gap and stood at Gideon’s side.

He let out a long, trembling breath. His hand hovered near her shoulder—almost touching, almost claiming—but he didn’t. His eyes stayed locked on me, unwavering.

I was alone.

I stood alone in the desert, the horizon empty behind me, the world closing in ahead.

“You see?” Gideon said, his voice harder now, the pleading stripped away. “That’s the truth. She’s safer here—away from you. You can lie, Juno, you can twist every word into something sweet, but in the end…” His jaw clenched. “…in the end, it’s all an act.”

The robot’s head tilted sharply.

“Target proximity: 1.7 feet.”

I froze. My boots hadn’t shifted an inch. My chest tightened like the air itself had turned to glass.

Sylvi turned her head toward the machine, brows furrowing. “…Wait—”

The monotone voice cut her short, pressing down like a verdict:

“Target confirmed.”

My stomach dropped.

It wasn’t me.

It was her.

The desert seemed to hold its breath.

Sylvi blinked, startled by the words, but before she could even step back, the machine’s frame shifted. Its metal plates hissed as they realigned, limbs unfolding with terrible precision. The glow in its visor narrowed to a violent crimson slit, locking onto her chest.

“No,” I whispered, my voice catching.

A sound like grinding gears tore through the air. The robot’s arm snapped forward, a blade of light spitting out from its wrist with a metallic scream. The sand around its feet shivered under the weight of its movement, dust curling up in choking spirals.

“Helix circuitry confirmed,” it droned. “Elimination protocol—engaged.”

Sylvi staggered back a step, cloak whipping in the desert wind. Her eyes flashed toward me, wide, uncomprehending, the same plea still burning in them: Why aren’t you stopping this?

“Wait!” Gideon’s shout broke raw, but the machine didn’t falter.

I surged forward, instinct burning hotter than reason—but the distance was too wide, my body too slow against the speed of steel.

The blade came down, carving the silence apart—