D E L P H I N I U M

Red.

I was bathed in it—my fingers, chin, the ends of my hair dripped with the color.

Blood. But none of it was mine.

Corpses everywhere. Mouths open, teeth bared. They'd been screaming when they'd died. Their glassy eyes all staring at the thing that had ended their existences. Staring at me.

They hadn't even had a chance.

I remembered the slide of my blades on flesh. Almost loving in the slowness of it. Smooth. Personal.

Metal against splintering bone. A sickening twist of the knife. The way they'd screamed. And how I'd felt nothing. The thoughts that weren't my own whizzing through my shattered mind.

Empty. So unbearably empty.

I awoke with a start. When my eyes darted frantically around the room, I found I was in a brightly-lit cell. Chains bound my hands and feet to the floor.

I was back at the fortress, back under his control. They'd found me, they'd found me, they'd found me—

Leaning over as much as the chains would permit, I vomited over the floor. I couldn't be back, it wasn't possible. Bile dripped from my lips and I retched again. And again and again until I was as empty as I'd felt in my dream.

I was so empty. So empty and too full at the same time. Whatever it was, it was unbearable. The memory of what I'd become, what I'd done...

No, I wasn't there. I wasn't there. I remembered now the way the ONNT pulled me from the compound. The needle in my arm—so much like the machine they'd put me inside.

I was back in an ONNT cell. That strange woman had chained me here to wait for the questioning. I had to repeat it to myself a few times to calm my nauseous stomach and shaking hands.

My mind went back to the day I'd been questioned, now over a year ago. It was much like this one. But this time was worse. I'd had less to lose then; I hadn't had my friends and the backing of the ONNT. Now, it happened again. I'd let it happen to me again. And I'd done more personal damage—Riley's memory was gone. I'd murdered ONNT soldiers. I'd stabbed Jaxon, Kane and Finn. I'd hurt them all in different ways.

What if it happened again? The thought made it feel like the ground had been pulled out from under me. They would not stop until they had me once more. And this time, they surely would have perfected the issue with the machine that allowed me to break free from its control.

My mind and heart raced. No, that could not happen. It couldn't, it couldn't-

There was a key in the lock of the door and I held perfectly still on the ground. They'd come to retrieve me.

Three soldiers entered the cell. Two were armed. My eyes were glued to the firearms clutched in their hands. Would they truly shoot if I made a move to escape? Would I even care? And if I were to escape, where would I go? There was nowhere in the world for me any longer.

I let the men unlock my chains and haul me to my feet. I was pushed down a long hallway that I recognized as the underground portion of the ONNT headquarters, guided with tight fingers on my arms. It reminded me of how it had been like when I'd been led inside the fortress. The crushing fear. My unknown future.

Another group was approaching us from down the passageway. More ONNT soldiers. And the person they escorted...

Benton.

My knees nearly buckled. I hadn't known what had happened to him. If he hadn't been changed back as I was...I'd hoped he'd died in the accident, though I hated myself for it.

His liquid-dark eyes caught mine. Immediately, he seemed different. There was no sharp smile mocking my pain. In fact, he almost looked as beaten down as I felt.

But it was just a facade. He wasn't really changed back. What if Orion had specifically sent him to infiltrate the group? What if his next mission was to gain our trust and then destroy us from the inside?

As they passed, I almost imagined the soldier's guiding hands on my arms to be his, like on that night I left everything behind. And when he'd forced me down to the white room, holding so tight my arms were surely bruised for days after.

He was too close to me. He still watched now, probably thinking of how he could drag me back there with him. I tried to edge away, but the soldiers held me tightly. My boots squeaked on the floor with the effort.

It was as if time was repeating itself when I was strapped into the chair I'd been in roughly a year ago. A whole lifetime ago. When I'd been here, I hadn't known what my future held. I'd expected it to be bleak and sad. I hadn't thought I'd make it this far. And I certainly didn't think I'd ever be back.

My eyes flicked up to the one-way glass a story higher than me. Surely there were people watching. Hunt. And maybe my team. I closed my eyes. They were about to hear all the gritty details.

The doctor entered the room—a different man than the one who'd been here for both me and Benton. I had no time to wonder what prompted the change in staffing. He sat at the table in front of me and spread his notes out, not looking up.

"What is your full name?" His eyes stayed on his papers. Something in me was ashamed that he wouldn't even look at me.

"Delphinium Olesya Tesla." Though I wondered if that's who I even was anymore.

"Where have you been for these past weeks?"

"The Imperium fortress in Romania." My voice was a whisper. I never thought I'd be saying that again.

"What was your purpose there?"

I thought I might vomit again. "I did...whatever he asked." I couldn't make myself say the name. "I was his second hand, his weapon. I was meant to be...his executioner."

He was writing things down now. I wished I could take my words back. He'd know now. "Tell me about when Benton Shires first brought you back."

No. I never wanted to think about that again. That night...I'd done anything I could to erase it from my mind. But it hadn't worked. I would never forget.

"When I woke, I was in one of their military trucks. I didn't remember being knocked out. They—they pulled me inside with chains around my wrists and neck. Then I was in the throne room. Before...their leader." I swallowed, bracing myself for what came next. "I thought he'd kill me. But he didn't."

Only now did the doctor's brown eyes meet my gaze. I immediately looked at the floor. His voice was a fraction softer when he asked, "Yes, that's when Orion put you into the Mind Sweeper, isn't it?" I flinched at the name, that name that belonged to my greatest fear. Both of them.

I hardly questioned how he knew the title of that machine. Images flew through my mind like a movie I couldn't stop. The white room. Blinding pain. They'd held me down, forced me into doing it... My mouth opened to speak but no sound came out. I couldn't voice it. Once I said it, it would be real. I could only pretend it was a bad dream if no one else knew exactly what happened.

My hands shook. I assumed the doctor could see it, because he said, "It's necessary that we know this to know how to stop them. And how to assist their victims."

I was a victim. I was one of their many victims but I also wasn't. I'd become them. I'd become one of the worst ones. I couldn't fully be a victim if I inflicted pain and death on victims of my own. I couldn't be blameless if I was a part of the problem.

Thinking of the people I'd killed, I forced myself to say it. "I...I was put into that..thing. They held me down. My eyes were covered. The needles... It hurt so badly I thought I might die. And then they let me black out." I stopped. This was too much. I couldn't say any more.

"What happened when you awoke?"

I knew he'd ask but it didn't come as less of a shock. My fists clenched to prevent them shaking any longer. It didn't work. My lungs wouldn't work. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't breathe.

I remembered that sickening emptiness, the muddled thoughts when I'd woken up. Even my own name was a mystery to me. They'd taken advantage of that state. Those three...they'd told me the right things to make me into the person they wanted. The person I was had been murdered. Thinking about that first stage made me wonder if I was going to vomit again.

The doctor kept watching me, taking every move of mine into account. He was waiting for me to talk. The expression on his face told me he'd wait as long as I needed, but he was still expecting me to tell him. They needed me to talk. I didn't know what would happen if I didn't.

Somehow—summoning enough strength I didn't know I still had—I managed to get it out. "The Tribunal turned me into the Reaper that they wanted. I did whatever they wanted to further their purpose."

He nodded and glanced back at his papers. "And what is their purpose? What is their goal?"

I was grateful for the shift in subject, even if this one wasn't much better. "Their leader...he sees the world today as chaos. He thinks human beings need to be ruled; freedom leads to corruption and destruction." I hated everything about this, hated that I was even talking about them. "In order to bring complete order to the world, he believes Imperium must rule over it."

The doctor's eyebrows knitted together. "Given their purpose, how does Orion view the murder and destruction Imperium causes?"

I didn't have to think about the answer. "He believes..." I took a deep breath. "He believes what he's doing is right. The end justifies the means for him, so he doesn't care about what he has to do to get this so-called order."

"World domination is not a new concept, though no one has managed it yet. Do you have any idea as to how he plans to accomplish it?"

Shaking my head, I answered. "Because most of my time there was spent dealing with the aftermath of their Russian loss, I was never exposed to that information. I know nothing new. And I think...he's still building. Waiting for the perfect time."

"To do what?"

"I don't know." My mind felt overloaded with information. "I don't know. Benton said he was waiting to expand outwards, but..." I trailed off, wishing this would end soon. At the mention of the other assassin, I felt his phantom hands on me, forcing me down to my greatest fear.

Then came the question I was dreading. "What exactly did he have you do? To know how to stop them, I'll need specific orders, everything he said, everything you saw."

The idea of not having any outward signs as to what I was thinking was gone from my mind. I hardly cared anymore. And I cared too much at the same time. My breath came in short pants. How could I say all of it? How could I reduce such horrible actions into simple words?

I wanted to scream but my mouth wouldn't make the sound. Couldn't they see I didn't want to say it? They needed the information; it was integral to our whole operation. Why did all the responsibility fall on me? Why was I the one taking all of Imperium's blows? They could never let me simply live. Perhaps I shouldn't want to anymore.

Immediately, I felt guilty for even having those thoughts. How could I pity myself when I'd just slaughtered innocents? I'd take their violence for the ones who'd taken mine. It was my responsibility to pay for what I'd done.

So I ended up telling them everything. All of it—slaughtering the rebels, cutting down the people who wouldn't let us use the weapons factories, how they'd covered my face and taught me to eradicate my one weakness, the way I'd cut down my own brethren in training. Forty one lives gone.

By the end, I was a shattered mess. I wasn't sure how much more I could take.