Niam
I stood before the ancient machine, my fingers tracing its cold metal surface. The medbay. A word I knew but didn’t understand, not really. My heart hammered against my ribs as I contemplated what I had to do next.
“Branna?” I called out softly. “Are you there?”
A pause, then a voice emanated from the walls. “I am here, Niam.”
I swallowed hard. “I’m going to do it. I’m going to remove the implants.”
“You understand the risks?” Branna’s voice was flat, emotionless.
“I do.” My hands shook as I began to prep the surgical pod. “But I can’t stay here anymore. I can’t let them keep using us like this.”
Branna didn’t respond. I knew she couldn’t. The real Branna had been gone for years, her consciousness absorbed into the Temple’s systems. Just like they wanted to do to me.
I thought of Mila and Denna, the one’s I’d sent out, searching for the missing pieces of the control unit. My friends. My co-conspirators.
They had done their jobs. It was time for me to face mine.
“Do you remember when we first met, Branna?” I asked, needing to fill the silence. “You were so kind to me. You showed me how to braid my hair to keep it out of my face during the rituals.”
“I remember,” Branna’s voice replied, but there was no warmth in it.
I sighed. “No, you don’t. Not really.”
My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten since morning prayer. I pulled a protein bar from my pocket and wolfed it down. It tasted like sawdust, but it would have to do.
As I chewed, I continued to ready the pod. The lightning strike had changed everything. For the first time in years, my thoughts felt… clearer. Less muddled by the constant stream of data from the Temple’s systems. But that clarity came at a price. I no longer had the perfect integration I once did.
“I don’t know if this will work,” I muttered. “But I have to try.”
“The priests will not approve,” Branna stated.
I laughed bitterly. “The priests can go to hell.”
My fingers flew over the control panel, inputting commands I barely understood. Knowledge flooded my mind – how to operate the pod, the intricacies of neural implant removal – but it felt distant, academic. Like reading from a textbook rather than lived experience.
“This is going to hurt, isn’t it?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
“Pain is irrelevant,” Branna replied. “Only the will of the Temple matters.”
I shook my head. “No. Not anymore.”
With trembling hands, I opened the pod. The inside gleamed with sterilized instruments and monitoring equipment. My breath caught in my throat as I contemplated what I was about to do.
“Branna,” I whispered. “If there’s any part of you left in there… wish me luck.”
Silence.
I climbed into the pod, my heart racing. As I lay back, the curved metal surface cool against my skin, I thought of all the girls who had disappeared over the years. How many of them had ended up like Branna. How many more would suffer that fate if I didn’t succeed.
“For all of us,” I murmured.
The pod began to close around me. Panic clawed at my chest, but I forced it down. This was the only way. To escape. To get revenge. To finally be free.
As darkness enveloped me, I closed my eyes and waited for the pain to begin.