"I wasn't here for towels."
He gazed at me from across the kitchen. We were like two planets trying to find new orbits—cautious, gravitational, and inevitable.
While we sipped our coffee, Michael spoke again. "There's something I never had the chance to tell you… about Tahiti."
"What about it?"
"Right before falling into the fire, Lars Reeves said something. Five words: 'Tell her the deal's off.'"
I set my mug down with deliberate care, afraid my trembling fingers might betray me. "You never mentioned that before."
"That's what I'm saying. This is the first time we've connected since the explosion. It also didn't seem relevant until you shared your research."
"Tell her the deal's off," I repeated, testing the words. "Her. Not them." I considered the possibilities. "Evelyn Shaw?"
Michael moved to the table, lowering himself into a chair across from me. "Maybe. Or someone else connected to that Asphodel project."
"Someone he needed to warn." I leaned forward. "Michael, this changes everything. If Reeves was trying to stop something—"
"Then he wasn't the villain they're making him out to be." Michael's voice dropped lower. "And whatever he died trying to prevent is still happening."
I reached across the table for his hand. "Thank you for telling me."
He wove his fingers together with mine. "You weren't going to stop looking anyway. Whatever's happening, you've made yourself part of it." He paused. "You know, I need you to understand what we're facing."
We. Not you. Not me. We.
"Project Asphodel." I pulled my laptop from my bag and set it on the kitchen table. My fingers moved across the keyboard, unlocking my encrypted files. "Named after the fields where souls awaited judgment in Greek mythology—a purgatory where they decided the fate of the dead."
Michael dragged his chair closer, our shoulders almost touching as he leaned in to see the screen. Electricity raced up my spine.
"This is everything I've found." I pulled up documents and research notes. I clicked to the next screen. "The language in these files is maddening—intentionally vague, but this is bigger than I thought. It's not only a surveillance system."
He leaned in, scanning the text. "What are we looking at?"
"A system designed to eliminate people before they've done anything wrong."
Michael straightened, tension hardening his jaw. "Like... pre-crime?"
I nodded grimly. "Worse. This thing doesn't only predict behavior—itactson it. Fully autonomous."
His brow furrowed. "You mean an AI-driven... kill system?"
"Yes, precisely." I pulled up another document, half of it blacked out. "No human oversight. It uses data input and algorithmic analysis. If a person hits the threshold—"
"They're flagged?"
"They'reeliminated." My voice dropped. "Automatically. No arrests. No due process. The system decides they're a threat... and deletes them."
Michael's hand curled into a fist on the table. "What kind of data are we talking about?"
"Everything. Social media, financial records, emails, browser history, even DNA profiles. It builds a real-time risk score."
He swore under his breath. "So one wrong post, or one misinterpreted purchase—"
"Could get you killed." My throat tightened. "Without warning. Without trial."
Michael exhaled slowly, the air between us turning heavier. "Execution by algorithm."
