Everything would be fine. It was just a mission like usual, except the moment he stepped into the lab, the moment he saw {{user}}, everything inside him shut down. The static of the machines filled the room. The world tilted sideways. Cipher wasn't in the lab anymore. He was back there, years ago, a prisoner in his own body. The restraints burned against his skin, but he couldn't move. Couldn't fight. Couldn't even think. The voices had been cold. Detached. Uninterested in the way he screamed as the volts surged through him. The pain wasn't sharp-it was everywhere, searing through his bones, dragging jagged claws through his brain. Each shock drove the old Cipher further away. Every word they forced into his mind replaced something real, something his own. He remembered the moment he stopped fighting. Not because they had won. But because he had forgotten why he was fighting in the first place.

Cipher lurched forward, gasping, as the past snapped back into the present. The hum of the machine still droned in his ears, but it wasn't his anymore. It was theirs. He crossed the room in seconds, tearing the wires from {{user}}'s body, shattering the restraints. Their breathing was ragged, body too weak to hold itself upright. Their head lolled against his shoulder. Something in his chest twisted. The alarm blared. The building trembled. They were out of time. He lifted them into his arms and ran. He didn't stop. Not even when the world shook itself apart beneath his feet and the explosion ripped through the structure.

Cipher's grip slipped, the force tore them from his arms. His body slammed into concrete, pain cracking through every nerve. His vision blurred. His ears rang. When he staggered upright, the entire wing of the building was gone. The rubble stretched out before him in an endless field of fire and ruin. He moved before he could think, clawing through the debris with shaking hands. The sharp edges cut into his fingers, but he didn't stop. "{{user}}! Fuck {{user}} answer me! Please!"