Ariadne leaned forward, dropping the Oracle’s intonation. “No. Don’t you see? The Oracle forces people into neat little boxes because One only understands order. But humans are messy. We are not binary; we don’t exist in ones and zeroes. This or that. My friend was strong enough to keep pushing back—to recognize the Oracle was trying to change her very identity—but most don’t. She became who she always knew she was after casting off the Oracle’s chains.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Shook his head sharply. “No. I already know who I am.”

The machine beeped. Rhea frowned at a small spike in his vitals.

Ariadne tried a more soothing voice. “One will try to blunt your curiosity, but I’m guessing there’s still something there that wants to be sure that’s the case without the Oracle’s programming. You’re not a machine, Cato.”

“No,” he repeated, straining against his bonds. The machine behind him beeped once more. His pulse was spiking again.

Not good.

Rhea rested a hand on Cato’s forearm as she searched the drawer behind her for the injection in case they needed to calm him again.

“It’s all right,” Ariadne said. “Your mind will be your own, Cato.” She’d slipped back into the Oracle’s tones, hoping it would calm him. “You’ll be able to choose what life you want to lead.”

He shook his head again. “Stop.”

“Cato.” Ariadne kept her voice low as his heart began to speed up. The machine’s beeping was a jarring echo in the room. “Cato, keep calm.”

He shook his head wildly, the electrodes stark against his reddening skin. “Stop it.” He was breathing hard. “Stop it stop it stop it.”

Rhea inched closer, the injection in hand. “It’s okay.” She reached out to slide the needle into his arm. “I’m just going to—”

He jerked away, the chair shifting a few inches. His eyes bulged, veins appeared at his temple. “I’m not going to turn against my people,” he snarled.

Before Ariadne could blink, Cato broke through his bonds, pulling the wires from his head. His hands were around her throat, squeezing, squeezing. The Oracle was strong, even cut off from the larger server and the implant. Ariadne was no match for his berserker strength.

He slammed her into the floor.

“The Gods favor the strong,” he said, tightening his fingers. Stars burst in Ariadne’s vision as she struggled to breathe. “The Gods favor the strong. I am of Tholos, Tholos is me. We are Tholos. Letum, Bel, Rem, Salutem, Phobos, Algea, and Soter. Letum, God of Death, I offer myself to Thee. I willingly go to the Avern. For glory. For—”

Rhea leaped onto Cato’s back to shove the needle into his arm, but he threw her off. The injection skidded across the floor and disappeared under the heavy cabinet. “Godsdamn it!”

<Rhea . . . help . . . >