Chapter 5: Liam Holt

The tunnel shook violently as an explosion erupted behind Evan. Dust and smoke surged through the narrow passage, muffling the faint cries of officers under the rubble. He didn’t look back—there was no time for second-guessing, only forward momentum.

The tunnel wound its way beneath several residential blocks, its craftsmanship rudimentary but enduring. Evan couldn’t help but smirk wryly. It had been worth every penny.

Finally, the passage ended. Dirt crunched under his boots as he reached the tunnel's conclusion. He grabbed the shovel he’d stashed nearby and began digging upward. His movements were precise, almost meditative—until the clang of metal on concrete jolted him.

“Damn it,” he muttered, tossing the shovel aside. He reached into his bag and pulled out a hammer. With deliberate force, he struck the thin concrete barrier above, sending cracks spidering outward.

A faint beam of light pierced through the opening as he widened it. Climbing through, he found himself in a dimly lit, cramped room. Four walls, no doors—just a few ventilation slats near the ceiling. The space was suffocating, an old storage room beneath an apartment complex he’d purchased years ago.

Dusting himself off, Evan leaned against the wall and exhaled deeply. “Safe for now,” he muttered. The silence was unnerving, but after the chaos, he allowed himself a moment to savor it.

With a sardonic grin, he added, “Now, time to meet my strange new ally.”

One Week Later
Sector Eight

The air in Sector Eight was dense, filled with the faint hum of overworked technology. It was a city within a city, its futuristic infrastructure marred by decades of neglect. Unlike the upper, wealthier sectors, this area bore the scars of poverty—a stark contrast to the elite zones.

In a derelict building weighed down by years of decay, nestled in an abandoned neighborhood of Sector Eight, a woman in her early thirties with dark hair and brown eyes stepped inside.- It is Skyler.

Skylar was followed by a tall, lean man with dark hair, his gaze calculating. His stance was casual, yet his sharp eyes betrayed his alertness.

“Oh my god,” he muttered, shaking his head. “That was too close. We almost didn’t make it.”

Skylar sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Shut up, Liam.” Her tone was a mix of irritation and exhaustion.

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Liam continued, raising his hands in mock surrender. “If you’re going to yell at someone, maybe yell at the guy who designed EVE’s defense systems to be... oh, I don’t know, insanely effective?”

Skylar shot him a glare sharp enough to cut steel. “I don’t need your commentary.”

Liam raised his hands higher in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. No need to bite my head off. But tell me—this ‘killer extraordinaire’ of yours, Evan—is he really meeting us here? Or is this just another one of your wild goose chases?”

Skylar clenched her fists, her patience wearing thin. “I don’t know. Getting found by EVE wasn’t part of the plan.” Frustration boiling over, she struck the nearest wall, sending dust and paint chips scattering.

“Skylar,” Liam said quietly, but she didn’t respond.

“He seemed capable enough,” she muttered, mostly to herself. “But how was I supposed to know EVE would—”

“Skylar,” Liam repeated, louder this time.

She spun around, her gaze sharp enough to cut through steel. “Gods, shut up! Isn’t this all because you gave me a faulty backdoor?”

Liam flinched but didn’t get a chance to reply as a low click echoed through the room.

Skylar froze as a familiar voice spoke from the shadows. “He always talks this much, or is today special?”

Evan stepped forward, his pistol aimed at Liam’s temple. His disheveled black hair and light stubble framed a sharp jawline. His presence radiated quiet authority, his lean, strong build that of a predator ready to strike.

“Evan!” Skylar’s tone shifted instantly, a mix of relief and anger. “You’re alive.”

“Of course I’m alive,” Evan replied, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Who do you think I am?”

Evan’s gaze shifted to the man before him, his voice cold. “And who’s this?”

Before Skylar could answer, Liam raised his hands in mock surrender. “My friend, would you mind lowering the gun? I’m entirely harmless, I swear.”

Evan didn’t budge, his gaze unflinching. “I’ll decide that.”

Skylar sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “This is Liam Holt, one of the engineers who helped design EVE’s core systems.”

Evan’s eyes narrowed. It was rare to meet someone who dared to meddle with EVE’s operations, let alone someone familiar with its architecture.

Evan’s expression darkened. Slowly, he said, “And why should I trust someone like him?”

Liam cleared his throat, cautiously stepping out of Evan’s line of fire. “Because I know what it’s capable of. I worked on its systems in the early stages, back when I thought I was helping build something revolutionary. But I was wrong. EVE’s control grows stronger every day, and I’ve seen what it does to people. Friends. Family. Anyone who gets too close to the truth disappears. I can’t stand by anymore.”

Evan studied Liam’s face, searching for any hint of deceit, but found only steadfast determination. He recognized that look—it was the same resolve that had driven him to take on this mission in the first place.

Finally, Evan lowered his gun. “Alright, but one wrong move, and you won’t get another chance to explain yourself.”

Liam exhaled loudly, a nervous chuckle escaping him. “Fair enough.”

The trio sat around a makeshift table, their faces illuminated by the flickering light of a single lamp.

Skylar crossed her arms, her gaze turning to Evan. “When did you get here?”

“Four days ago,” Evan replied, leaning nonchalantly against the wall. “For someone claiming to have escaped a Nexus squad, you’re awfully slow.”

Skylar scowled. “We weren’t slow. We had to evade an entire squad after EVE found our last location.”

“Sounds like an excuse,” Evan teased, smirking.

Liam raised a hand, cutting in. “As much as I enjoy watching you two bicker, can we focus on, oh, I don’t know, saving the city?”

Evan said, "Once EVE catches me and reads my memories, those memories are likely to cause you trouble. And thank you for waking me up to the truth."

“You make it sound easy,” Skyler frowned. “It’s never easy to doubt your own existence. Even the best philosophers struggle with it, let alone someone accepting it so calmly without questioning it.”

“Maybe that’s because I’ve been thinking a lot about who I really am, and the nature of my work has brought up a lot of doubts,” Evan replied.

“So, are you okay?” Skyler asked.

“No, but at least I already know I’m a clone. I just don’t understand why you chose to tell me,” Evan answered.

Evan didn’t know why Skyler seemed to value him so much.
It felt as though Skyler could read his thoughts. Then she explained, “Clones are divided into types. There are mass-produced clones who have no past but are equipped with specific skills to perform certain tasks, whether construction, cleaning, or anything else. Due to their limited brain capacity, they can’t hold extensive memories and have restricted abilities. They’re flawed, so they’re marketed to real humans under the condition that their memories must be reset every three months to prevent collapse, and they have tracking devices implanted in case clients don’t follow the rules.”

“And the other type?” Evan asked.

“The other type is the elite—rare and nearly perfect. They’re indistinguishable from humans. No, they’re more perfect, with complete memories and superior skills. They’re designed to think they’re human. Ordinary people don’t know about them, but they have a critical flaw. It’s so severe they didn’t even bother putting tracking devices in them.”

Evan’s brow furrowed as he thought he knew what it was.

Skyler looked at him and began explaining. “No one knows the exact number of clones in the city. But do you know how many elite clones have achieved self-awareness?”

“Enlighten me,” Evan replied.

“Since cloning began, there have been no more than ten,” Skyler said lightly. “And without exception, they all experienced psychological trauma. They either committed suicide or went on rampages, killing everything, and were eventually killed. Those who weren’t killed took their own lives. For years, I’ve been trying to wake up other clones. Most don’t believe me or respond to my hints.”

“Why don’t they just reset their memories?” Chang Heng asked.

“They tried, but all of them either collapsed or became fools without exception,” Skyler said. “I’ve never seen someone like you. You’re special.”

“But because of memory encryption, the memories clones have are all fabricated,” Skyler poured herself a glass of water. “You’ll need some time to adjust to your new identity, think about who you are, what you’re living for, and how you want to live.”

“You’re right. But I’m fine. We still have something important to do,” Evan said, leaning back in his chair. “The system breach didn’t work. So, what’s the next step?”

Liam cleared his throat. “Plan A failed, so we move to Plan B. It’s riskier, but it might actually work.”

“And Plan B is...?” Evan asked, raising an eyebrow.

Liam grinned, though the humor didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re going to the Lower Zones.”

Evan and Skylar exchanged looks.

“Care to elaborate?” Evan asked dryly.

Liam began, “The Lower Zones are—”

Evan cut him off. “I know what the Lower Zones are. I meant, why just us? Why aren’t you coming?”

Liam smiled nervously. “Well... I’m not exactly cut out for fieldwork. But I know someone who can guide you instead. So... good luck!”