Heartstone - Chapter 17: Chapter 17

The morning was still. Snow lingered on the rooftops as smoke rose from repaired chimneys. Dalen sat near the edge of the bed, putting on his shirt, his ribs still sore but healing.
As he reached for his coat, something small slipped from Avera coat on the bed —a metal data drive, scratched but intact.
He froze.
The surface bore a symbol—a faintly etched circle wrapped in thorns, glowing ever so slightly in the light.
His pulse quickened.
It wasn’t his.
Avera entered the hut moments later, her hair damp from melted snow, arms wrapped in a scarf.
Her eyes fell immediately to the drive in his hand.
Her breath caught. “That… that was my father’s.”
Dalen turned to her, slowly. “Mark Breknac.”
Avera stepped forward and snatched the drive, holding it with both hands. She stared at the symbol like it was a ghost.
“I remember this,” she whispered. “He used to wear it around his neck.
Dalen said. “I’ve seen that symbol before. In a facility. It’s part of a secret division—Project Sky. Governmental. Off-books. Buried.”
She looked at him. “Can we open it?”
“I can try.”
Dalen reached into the weathered satchel slung by the corner, pulled out a compact, military-grade mini computer—scorched at one edge from the crash but still intact. He crouched beside a wooden table.
Avera stepped closer, watching as he wiped away dirt from the screen and powered it on. The device flickered to life with a soft hum, its pale green glow cutting through the dim room. A military login prompt appeared.
Dalen typed quickly, bypassing the old security with a sequence only a trained officer would know. “I’ve been holding onto this since the crash,” he said. “Didn’t think it’d still work.”
Lines of data scrolled down the screen, maps of the region, troop movements, encrypted files—some marked “X-3 Classified.” Then something unexpected flashed onto the screen.
A folder: PROJECT .
Dalen’s breath caught. He clicked it.
Inside were fragments of research logs, images of the stone, notes written in Dr. Vedna Moore’s handwriting, and a transmission—partially corrupted—of Mark Breknac speaking directly into the camera.
Avera’s eyes widened. “That’s my father…”
Dalen pressed play. The audio crackled.
“…if you’re seeing this, it means they’ve found us. The truth about the … must not fall into the wrong hands…”
Avera’s hand shot to her mouth.
Mark continued: “I worked with them. The United Command. I built the systems that monitored population behavior, that tracked genetic markers... I saw what they planned. Not just control—but rewriting. They found something beneath the mountains. A relic. A source of energy older than human civilization. They called it the .”
"They told me it would protect us. But they lied. They wanted it to enslave the world, to bend memory and mind. I tried to stop them. I leaked files. Gave names. They found out. They used my own team to hurt me.”
The file cut off abruptly.
But the last line came through clearly:
“Avera… if you ever find this… you are the key. And they will come for you.”
Silence filled the room. Then Avera whispered, “We need to show this to Marah. They must know what’s coming.”
Dalen nodded. “This changes everything.”
Silence hung between them.
Dalen stood, breathing shallow. Then, suddenly—
His head jolted.
Memories surged back—flashes, raw and disjointed. Men in dark uniforms marching through sterile hallways. Screams echoing from behind reinforced glass. A cold, clinical room filled with monitors, wires, and terrified test subjects. And then—his own hands.
“I was there,” Dalen whispered, his voice hollow with disbelief, eyes locked on the flickering light of the mini computer screen. “I was one of the operatives.”
Avera’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“I didn’t know everything,” Dalen continued, stunned by the memory unfolding in his mind. “But I was assigned to the facility… the one where they ran experiments with the energy. I handled security clearances, data transfers—nothing seemed off at first.”
He clenched the device tighter in his hand. “But I couldn’t shake the feeling. Something wasn’t right. Files were always incomplete, encrypted with unknown protocols… too many people disappearing. I suspected something was wrong, but every time I tried to get deeper into the system… I hit a wall. The lab’s central core was sealed off—even to internal personnel like me.”
Avera stepped closer, her face serious. “You think that’s where they were testing the ?”
Dalen nodded. “I’m sure of it now. And your father… he was trying to expose them. That’s why they erased everything. That’s why they sent me out there—to silence the only person left who might still uncover the truth.”
Dalen looked at Avera, his jaw tightening, grief rising in his voice like a storm barely held back. “They sent me out to kill me,” he said, his eyes glassy with the weight of the truth. “I remember now.”
Avera turned sharply toward him, her breath catching. “What are you saying?”
“It wasn’t the crash,” Dalen continued, voice low, strained. “That’s what they wanted me to believe. But I see it now. The memory loss wasn’t from the impact. They wiped it… deliberately.”
He stood, pacing a step, then clenched his fists at his sides. “X-3. They ran experiments with selective memory suppression. I thought I was part of something noble. But I was just another asset… until I knew too much.”
Avera expression fierce. “Why? Why would they do that?”
“Because I found out about Project … about your father, about what Ryker Voss was really planning. I confronted someone high up—and after that… they put me on that jet with a scrambled nav system. A death mission.”
Avera’s voice was steady, yet heavy. “And instead of dying, you found me.”
Dalen looked at her then, a flicker of something stronger than pain in his eyes. “No. You found me.”
They stood in silence, the weight of the revelation settling between them. Then Avera reached out, her fingers brushing his.
“We finish what they started,” she said. “Together.”
They stood in silence, the truth between them heavy—but uniting.
Outside, clouds gathered again. A new storm was coming.
But inside, something greater stirred—purpose, sharpened by truth.
And for the first time, Avera wasn’t running from her past.
She was walking toward it.