Hazen Cline POV:
Bianca' s condition was a constant drain. One day she was fine, the next she was having a "panic attack" about a misfiled report. Her "trauma responses" were so unpredictable, so demanding, that they consumed all my spare moments. My superiors were growing impatient. My missions were suffering. My focus, once razor-sharp, was now blunted by endless doctor' s appointments and frantic calls about Bianca' s latest fear.
I told myself Echo would understand. She always did. She was practical, logical. She would see that I had no choice but to prioritize Aegis, to prioritize Bianca' s stability for the sake of the organization. Once things settled, once Bianca was fully recovered, Echo and I would talk. We would patch things up. It had to be that way. We were meant to be.
The safe house felt empty without her. I missed her quiet strength, her sharp wit, the way she could anticipate my next move before I even thought it. I missed her. I tried to push Bianca' s increasingly shrill demands and fragile state into the back of my mind, focusing on the inevitable reconciliation.
But days turned into a week, then two. I went to Echo' s private quarters, expecting to find her there, perhaps packing, perhaps waiting. The door wouldn' t open. Her access codes, her biometric scans, all rejected. My heart, usually a solid, steady drum, gave a strange, unexpected lurch. A cold, unsettling premonition snaked through me.
"Echo?" I called out, knocking, then pounding on the reinforced door. "Echo, open up! This isn' t funny!"
A cleaning drone whirred around the corner, its robotic voice monotone. "Operative Echo Compton' s quarters have been vacated. All personal effects removed. Access protocols terminated."
The blood drained from my face. Vacated? Terminated? "Where is she? Where did she go?" I demanded, grabbing the drone, startling its sensors.
"Information unavailable. Operative Compton' s itinerary is classified. Destination unknown."
Unknown. The word echoed in the empty corridor, a chilling pronouncement. I stumbled back, the drone whirring away from my grasp. My world felt like it was tilting on its axis.
I returned to my own quarters, the silence heavy, suffocating. Bianca was there, waiting, perched on the edge of the sofa, looking small and vulnerable. She wore a silk robe, her hair meticulously arranged, despite her supposed distress.
"Hazen? You' re back! I was so worried. Are you alright? You look… pale." Her voice was soft, laced with a feigned concern that grated on my nerves.
I just stared at her, a strange, unfamiliar irritation bubbling up inside me. Her sweetness, her fragility – it all suddenly felt like a performance. Echo would never have waited like this. Echo would have been working, training, preparing. Echo was strong. Bianca was… stifling.
I missed Echo' s strength. I missed her independence. I missed the way she challenged me, pushing me to be better. Bianca just… clung.
"I went to find Echo," I said, my voice flat, devoid of emotion.
Bianca' s eyes widened, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths before she quickly masked it with a fresh wave of concern. "Oh, Hazen, no! You know how she is. So volatile. So… extreme. After what she did to my hand, I don' t know what she might do. She' s dangerous."
"She' s gone," I cut in, ignoring her theatrics. "She' s completely vanished."
Bianca' s face was a study in carefully controlled emotion. Her lips trembled, her eyes welled up, but beneath the facade, I saw a flash of something else. Triumph. Satisfaction.
"Gone?" she whispered, her voice cracking, but the words carried a faint, almost imperceptible lilt of delight. "Oh, Hazen, I' m so sorry. I know how much she meant to you. Maybe… maybe it' s for the best. She was always so… competitive." She tried to take my hand, her fingers cold against mine.
I pulled away, the sight of her saccharine pity sickening me. "She' s gone for good, Bianca. Completely. Aegis has no record of her whereabouts. Her protocols are all terminated."
Suddenly, the weight of it all crashed down on me. The realization was a punch to the gut, stealing my breath. Echo was really gone. Not just angry, not just making a point. Gone. Erased.
A cold, primal fear seized me. Echo. My partner. My fiancée. The woman who had been by my side through every hellish mission, every impossible choice. The one person who truly understood the darkness I carried. She was gone. And I had pushed her away.
My hands trembled. My world, which I had always believed was built on solid ground, suddenly felt like shifting sand. Echo wasn't just a part of my life; she was my life. Without her, what was left? An empty bed. A silent safe house. Bianca' s simpering vulnerability.
The thought was a cold, suffocating blanket. What would I do without her? How would I breathe in a world where Echo Compton no longer existed?
