The Darkness I Carry

Chapter 49: Fractured Paths

Caleb woke early the next morning, though he hadn't slept well. The dreams were relentless, twisted fragments of memories that he couldn't piece together. Leah's face kept appearing in them, haunting him like a shadow that would not leave, no matter how many times he tried to outrun it. She was always just out of reach, slipping away from him with every grasp.

It wasn't a surprise when he found himself standing in front of the training room again.

His feet had carried him here without him realizing, an automatic pull. A reflex, like his mind was trying to will him toward the very thing that had broken him. Maybe he was hoping that if he saw her again, if he watched her move, some part of him would finally understand. Maybe he would finally accept that she was gone, that the girl he had tried so hard to protect had never existed in the first place.

But as he stepped inside, he wasn't prepared for what he saw.

Leah was there, as she always was silent, cold, her eyes focused on the sparring partner in front of her. She was fluid in motion, lethal in her precision, every strike an extension of the machine they had created. Her expression was absent, devoid of anything that could resemble humanity. She wasn't here. She wasn't herself.

She was the weapon. And nothing more.

But there was something different today.

Caleb lingered by the door, watching her, his heart in his throat. She wasn't fighting like she usually did, with the cold, calculated precision of a trained killer. She was angry there was a rawness to her movements today, a chaos he hadn't seen before. She was lashing out, throwing punches that were wild and untamed, her face twisted in frustration.

And then, the sparring partner slipped.

It happened in an instant one wrong move, one moment of distraction, and the man crumpled to the floor, clutching his side.

Caleb's breath caught in his throat as he watched Leah hover over him. For a moment, there was stillness, an eerie silence between them. Leah's chest heaved, her breath ragged, as if she was fighting with herself as much as she was fighting her opponent.

"Get up," she snapped, her voice sharp and unforgiving.

The man didn't move. He couldn't.

Leah's eyes narrowed, her expression hardening. She took a step back, as if to give him space, but there was something in her eyes something that Caleb couldn't place. She was waiting for him to stand, to fight back, as if she was testing him. Testing… herself.

"Get up!" she barked again.

The words came out strangled, like a growl from deep inside her throat. And then, for the briefest of moments, Leah's eyes flicked toward Caleb, catching his gaze.

Time froze.

Her stare was fierce, filled with something dark and raw. But there was also… something else. A flicker. A crack in the armor.

Caleb's heart hammered in his chest. He wanted to move forward, wanted to say something, anything. But his body was rooted to the spot. His throat felt dry, as if the words had been swallowed before they could form.

And then, just as quickly, the moment passed. Leah's gaze shifted back to the fallen man, and her face went blank again, the cold mask returning in full force. She turned away without a second glance at Caleb, as if he were nothing but a distant memory.

She wasn't gone. Not entirely.

But she was lost.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Caleb felt like he was floating, disconnected from his own life. The weight of what he had seen in the training room pressed on him, but there was no clarity. No answers. Just fragments. Pieces of Leah that he couldn't put together.

He couldn't tell if what he had seen was hope or something darker. Maybe it was both.

Maybe he was clutching at straws, desperate to believe that there was still a chance for her, for them. Maybe he was just deluding himself.

It wasn't until late afternoon that he found himself in the one place that he hadn't yet allowed himself to go: the briefing room.

The walls were lined with monitors, flashing with images of targets, mission intel, maps, and data that meant nothing to him. He didn't care about the missions anymore. He didn't care about Division Nine. But there was something here, something he couldn't ignore. His eyes scanned the table where a new set of dossiers had been placed.

He hadn't seen these targets before.

And then, one name stood out, burning in his mind like a brand.

Leah Carter.

His breath caught in his throat. His hands trembled as he picked up the file, flipping it open to reveal the mission details. There was no mistake. The file was marked with the usual cold, clinical precision. The words were clear: "Terminate with extreme prejudice."

Caleb's mind raced. He read the file again, trying to make sense of it, as if the words might change if he read them a third time.

But they didn't.

Leah was the target.

But why? Why now?

Had she gone rogue? Was this something she had chosen, or was it something they had done to her?

Caleb couldn't breathe. His vision blurred as he stared at the words on the paper, the weight of them crushing him. He knew what this meant. He knew what he had to do.

And yet, it felt like he was drowning, suffocating in the realization that the mission the one thing he had been trained for, the one thing that had defined his existence for so long was now tied directly to the girl he had once loved, the girl he had failed.

There was no way out.

The hours dragged on as Caleb sat in the briefing room, unable to leave, unable to think clearly. His mind kept circling back to Leah. Was this his fault? Had he pushed her too far? Had he failed to protect her in a way that could never be undone?

He didn't know how much time had passed before he finally stood up, slamming the file shut with a finality that made his chest tighten. He had to do something. He couldn't just sit here, waiting for orders to come through. He had to make a decision.

He needed to see her.

The training room door was open when Caleb arrived, but the sound of Leah's movements was absent. She wasn't sparring today. She wasn't even there.

For the first time in days, he felt something stir within him a sense of urgency, a sense of purpose. He couldn't lose her. Not like this.

He scanned the room, his eyes darting to the corners, searching for any sign of her. And then, he spotted her.

She was standing by the far wall, staring out of the narrow window that overlooked the compound. Her posture was stiff, her expression distant.

Leah didn't turn when he approached.

"Leah," Caleb called softly, his voice hoarse.

She didn't move.

"Leah, we need to talk," he said again, his voice firmer this time, more desperate. "Please."

Her body tensed, but she didn't respond. It was like she was locked inside herself, unreachable, untouchable.

And then, finally, after what felt like an eternity, Leah spoke, her voice flat.

"You're too late."