The Last Seal

They left Latrun under cover of dusk. The road back to Jerusalem was darker this time, as if the sun had surrendered something of itself to the revelation Jessica carried on her lap. The file folder remained unopened for the drive. She didn’t need to read it. Not yet. Knowing it existed was enough, for now.

Olivia drove in silence, her eyes locked on the road, her thoughts somewhere deeper. Leanna sat beside her, hand clenched in her lap, her other resting near the weapon concealed beneath her coat. Jessica stared out the window, her reflection faint against the glass. It no longer startled her. It no longer comforted her either.

By the time they returned to the apartment in the Armenian Quarter, the city was settling into night. From the balcony, the rooftops glowed with the warmth of old stone and hidden fire. Bells echoed faintly from the churches. Minarets whispered the last call to prayer.

Jessica stepped inside the room and opened the file.

Names. Charts. Locations. Generations of subjects, some with photographs, most with numbers. Vessel 2.0. Vessel 2.3. Vessel 3.0. Jason Carter.

And then her.

VESSEL 3.1 – Jessica Sanchez

Underneath the name: “Memory stabilized. Full integration successful. Personality deviation within acceptable limits.”

Leanna read over her shoulder, her breath quiet. “They kept records. Every time they tried and failed.”

Jessica nodded. “And I’m the first time they didn’t.”

She closed the file.

“I’m not just part of their story,” she said. “I’m their ending.”

The knock came at midnight. Three soft taps. Leanna moved to the door, weapon ready. Olivia stayed at the laptop, eyes darting.

Jessica opened it, but nobody was there. On the floor lay a small envelope sealed with red wax.

She picked it up, broke the seal. Inside was a folded card with a single sentence: “You’ve gone far enough.”

There was no signature. No symbol. It was a reminder that they were always being watched.

* * *

Later that evening, Jessica sat with her knees pulled up to her chest, a blanket draped loosely over her shoulders. Below them, the city pulsed in muted gold and ghostlight, church bells silent now, the call to prayer long faded. The air smelled like stone and jasmine. Somewhere nearby, a cat yowled and was answered only by silence.

Leanna stood by the edge of the rooftop, her hands gripping the railing like it might anchor her to something. She hadn’t spoken since they returned from Latrun.

Jessica broke the silence. “You’ve been quiet.”

Leanna didn’t turn. “You almost didn’t make it out of that vault.”

“I did.”

“Barely.”

The wind shifted. Jessica pulled the blanket tighter. “You blaming me?”

“No.” Leanna shook her head. “I’m blaming myself.”

Jessica looked up. “For what?”

Leanna turned, finally. Her eyes were sharp, but wet at the edges. “For believing I understood what any of this was. For thinking I was the one who saved you. For not realizing until too late that maybe… maybe I was part of what broke you in the first place.”

Jessica didn’t respond at first. She just let the words sit there, raw and exposed between them.

Then she said softly, “You didn’t break me, Lea.”

“I gave you that serum. I was the one who said yes when every voice in my head screamed no. I told myself it was for you. But maybe it was for me. Maybe I needed to believe I could fix something that was never mine to fix.”

Jessica stood and crossed the rooftop to her. She didn’t say anything, not at first. She just wrapped her arms around Leanna and held her.

Leanna tensed, but only for a second. Then she folded into the embrace like she’d been holding herself up too long.

“You didn’t fix me,” Jessica whispered. “Because I wasn’t broken. I just… hadn’t finished becoming.”

Leanna laughed once, bitter and soft. “That’s a hell of a thing to become.”

They stood like that for a long moment.

Then Jessica pulled back slightly, her hands still on Leanna’s shoulders. “You were there when I couldn’t be. You believed in something I couldn’t even see. You gave me a name when I didn’t know I had one. That matters.”

Leanna looked at her, pain and pride wrestling in her face. “And now?”

“Now I’m not your mission,” Jessica said. “I’m your family. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Leanna nodded slowly. “Even after everything?”

Jessica smiled. “Especially after everything.”

They sat on the rooftop until the sky began to turn, neither of them speaking, the silence now a comfort instead of a wound. The city slept, and for the first time in a long time, so did they.

* * *

By morning, Shamir was gone.

There was no record of him at the university. His office was cleared. The library staff claimed never to have heard of him. His email returned undeliverable.

Only the photograph Jessica had taken on her phone proved he had ever existed. And even that felt fragile, as if it might vanish the next time she looked.

They left the city before noon. No one spoke until they reached the edge of the desert. Jessica turned in her seat, staring back at the winding road that led into the hills.

“He was never helping us,” she said. “He was watching.”

Olivia looked over. “Then why give us the clues?”

Jessica exhaled. “Because they needed me to know. But only to a point. Dominion always knew I’d get this far. They just never expected me to survive it.”

Leanna gave a small nod. “So what now?”

Jessica looked out toward the horizon, the endless stretch of sand and sky.
“I don’t know,” she said. “But whatever happens next… it’s not their game anymore.”

She reached into her coat and took out the black pawn. It rested in her palm, quiet and unassuming, its surface warm from her touch. For the first time, it didn’t feel like a warning. It felt like a promise.

Jessica turned it once between her fingers, then closed her hand around it. “Every system breaks eventually,” she murmured. “Even the ones that built me.”

Leanna glanced at her, the faintest curve of a smile tugging at her mouth. “Then we start over.”

Jessica met her eyes. “No. We start something else.”

The road stretched ahead, bright under the rising heat, unbroken and unwritten. Behind them, Jerusalem was already fading into light, a city of ghosts and sealed doors, carrying its secrets back underground.

Jessica leaned her head against the window, watching the horizon blur into the shimmer of desert air. For the first time in years, she wasn’t running toward the past or away from it. She was simply moving.

Whatever waited out there, redemption, revenge, or another game entirely, she’d meet it on her own terms.

The pawn sat in her palm like a heartbeat. Outside, the world kept turning. The road was empty, the sky wide, and for the first time, the story belonged to her.