I stared at Alexis, trying to process what she’d just said. "I’m sorry, what?"
"We can look into your brain," she repeated, her tone completely serious.
I blinked. "You... you want to look into my brain."
"Yes."
"My brain specifically."
"That’s what I said, Rey."
I rubbed my temples, feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing down harder now. "Okay. Walk through this. How exactly does poking around in my head help Evelyn?"
Alexis moved back to her desk, pulling up so docunts on her laptop and turning the screen toward . It was more Brain scans. Neural pathway diagrams. System interface readings that I’d never seen before. I couldn’t understand them earlier and it’s no different now.
"It’s a theory," she said carefully. "But a highly likely one based on what we know. The Cain Protocol has two trigger chanisms. The first is auditory—the phrase ’Cain sees Abel.’ That one’s relatively straightforward to reverse. We understand how sound processing works in the brain, and we can theoretically block or override that specific trigger."
"And the second?" I asked, though I had a feeling I knew where this was going.
"The visual trigger. When soone affected by the protocol sees you." She tapped the screen, highlighting a specific region of a brain scan. "That’s where it gets complicated. It’s not appearance-based—you could change your face, your hair, your entire physical presentation, and they’d still attack you. So what is it about you that the protocol recognizes?"
I leaned against the desk, crossing my arms. Thinking about what it could be and Deduction was giving only one possibility. "You think it’s my System that’s triggering the effect?"
"I do." She pulled up another docunt—this one showing System interface data. I don’t know who’s it was but it was clear that it was different. This one was glowing just a slightly bit more, as if reacting to sothing. "When people look at each other, their Systems interact on a subconscious level. It’s automatic. Unavoidable. Most people don’t even notice it happening because it’s such a minor background process. But if soone has a unique aspect to their System—sothing that stands out—it would be easily noticeable."
"My job title," I said quietly.
"SSS-Rank Jobmaster," Alexis confird. "There’s no one else in the world with that. No one else who even cos close. If the Cain Protocol is keyed to recognize sothing unique about your System signature, that would be it."
I understood her logic. It made sense in a clinical, thodical way. In fact I was impressed by the creativity and ingenuity to even think of investigating sothing like this. But sothing about it bothered , and it took a mont to put my finger on what.
"When the Cain Protocol was first implented," I said slowly, "I’m ninety-five percent sure the World President’s side wasn’t aware of my exact job title and skills. That ca later. Way later. After we all got captured and experinted on."
Alexis frowned. "What are you saying?"
"I’m saying that sohow, the World President knew what I had before they should have known." I t her eyes. "They designed the protocol to catch specifically, even before they had all the information they needed to do that."
The implications hung in the air between us. Alexis’s expression darkened, and she turned back to the screen, her fingers moving across the keyboard as she pulled up more data.
"That’s... concerning," she said finally.
"Yeah."
She was quiet for a mont, processing. Then she shook her head. "We can worry about how they knew later. Right now, the point is that examining your brain—specifically how your System interfaces with your neural pathways—could give us the reference point we need. If we understand what makes you uniquely recognizable to the protocol, we can figure out how to block or neutralize that recognition in others."
I straightened up. There’s still sothing I wanted to know before I make any decision. "By how much would this increase the success chances of the reversal?"
Alexis hesitated, and I could see her weighing her words. "If we get the data we need? It might guarantee success."
My heart skipped. "Guarantee?"
"Might," she emphasized. "But yes. Having a complete understanding of the trigger chanism would eliminate most of the guesswork. We’d know exactly what we’re dealing with and how to counter it."
That was huge. That was everything. Going from a fifty-fifty coin flip to a near certainty—that was worth almost anything.
But I knew Alexis. I knew that tone in her voice. There was a reason as to why she didn’t want to do it. A problem or flaw in the plan that made her whole heartedly hesitate.
"What’s the downside?" I asked.
She closed the laptop and turned to face fully. "It’s risky, Rey. Incredibly risky."
"How risky?"
"I’d have to open your brain and investigate it directly," she said bluntly. "Map the neural pathways. Analyze how your System integrates with your biological structures. It’s not a simple scan—I’d be going in manually."
I felt a chill run down my spine. "So basically your talking about having a brain surgery."
"Yes."
"And the risk?"
Her jaw tightened. "There’s no guarantee you’ll wake up."
The words landed like a physical blow. I stared at her, trying to keep my expression neutral even as my mind raced through the implications.
Despite everything I still had a lot of faith. No matter what Alexis said, I genuinely believed that she was capable of doing things like this. Granted she had no experience in brain surgery, but what she did have was a bunch of skills and combined jobs. Even then I wouldn’t trust soone like this but she also had a job title which physically affected her capabilities. In short, as long as she’s in charge, I had the upmost confidence in her abilities.
"How much of it depends on you?" I asked.
"So," she admitted. "I’m good at what I do. The best, as you like to remind . But this isn’t a standard procedure. I’d be working in uncharted territory, and one mistake could cause irreversible damage."
"And the rest?"
"The rest depends on you," she said quietly. "Your body. Your mind. Your System. Whether you can handle the trauma of the procedure and co back from it. Though probing into soone’s System is generally risky. There hasn’t been the best record for things like this. In all honesty we got lucky when we were experinted on. The more likely scenario is that we get trapped in our mind or System and you don’t ever wake up."
I let out a slow breath, leaning back against the desk. Brain surgery. The kind where there was a real chance I wouldn’t wake up. The kind where even the best doctor in the world couldn’t guarantee success because a part of it also depended on .
But if it worked... if it gave us the information we needed to save Evelyn and everyone else affected by the protocol...
"I trust you," I said finally.
Alexis’s eyes widened slightly. "Rey, I’m not sure we shou—"
"I trust you," I repeated, eting her gaze. "And I’m ready when you are."
She opened her mouth, then closed it again. For a mont, she just looked at , and I could see the conflict in her expression. The professional part of her that wanted to move forward. The personal part that hated the risk.
Finally, she took a very deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling as she steadied herself.
"Alright," she said quietly. "Give a few minutes to prepare."
She moved around the office, pulling out equipnt I didn’t recognize. dical tools. Monitoring devices. Things that looked far too sharp for comfort. I watched her work, her movents precise and thodical, every action deliberate.
After what felt like an eternity but was probably only ten minutes, she gestured toward a surgical table I hadn’t even noticed in the corner of the room.
"Lay down," she said.
I walked over and climbed onto the table, the surface cold against my back even through my shirt. The ceiling above was plain white, and I found myself staring at it, trying not to think too hard about what was about to happen.
Alexis appeared at my side, a syringe in her hand. Her expression was calm, controlled, but I could see the tension in her eyes.
"Rey," she said softly.
"Yeah?"
"Co back to us."
I managed a small smile. "I will."
She didn’t smile back. Just nodded once, then pressed the needle into my arm.
I ntally turned off Poison Resistance and the anesthetic hit fast. I felt the cold spread through my veins, and within seconds, my vision started to blur. The ceiling above swam in and out of focus, and I could hear Alexis saying sothing, but the words were distant now, muffled.
The last thing I saw before everything went black was her face, serious and determined.
Then nothing.
Just darkness.
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