The Oracle blinked at them both, One’s face a mirror image of Ariadne’s own visage—but a soulless rendition of it. Perhaps if Rhea hadn’t known Ariadne, she would have been impressed by the lifelike image, but all she saw was a poor imitation of her friend.

The Oracle possessed none of the spark that made Ariadne her.

Rhea recoiled, shifting closer to Ariadne. The girl was stiff, terrified. How would any of them feel if they were confronted with the face of their abuser? Especially when that face was a darkened mirror to her own? A nightmare made into a projected ghost that could be anywhere. Anywhere at all.

This was but a small splinter of the Oracle. One would be spread out through all the Tholosian ships docked on Laguna, in the many still circling the planet. One was back on Tholos, in the Temple where Ariadne had been kept prisoner.

One was on every planet in the Empire, watching the many citizens and servants, pretending benevolence when the system was rotten to the core.

So many places to torment anyone the Oracle chose. Like Ariadne. One’s little Engineer.

“One had wondered where One’s child had gone,” the Oracle said in Ariadne’s voice, the pitch an attempt at Ariadne’s singsong inflections.

Rhea winced. It was too saccharine. All wrong.

The holographic cameras within the storage bay turned on, shining pinpoints of light into the space in front of Rhea and Ariadne. The Oracle emerged from the screen, taller, so much taller than either of them. The Oracle was so lifelike, almost tangible. If not for the slight transparency to the projection, Rhea might have been fooled into thinking One had a body of One’s own.

Rhea grasped Ariadne’s hand and pulled her backward.

“One has made such progress since One’s child left,” the Oracle said with a cruel, cold smile that looked wrong on a face so like Ariadne’s. “But now it’s time to come back into the code, Daughter. To become One’s will.”

“No.” Ariadne’s voice trembled. “My friends—”

“Will be executed.” The Oracle’s voice was cold, entirely devoid of emotion. “The prince has assured me that you, my child, will be spared. There’s still so much to be done in our Temple.” The Oracle’s head tilted to one side. “It’s time to bring you home.”

One’s simulated lips puckered in a kiss.

The screen showed Ariadne’s last command. The coordinates of the weapon had morphed onto a map. It pointed to the ballroom of the Evoli palace.

The weapon was on the royal dais.

Rhea grabbed Ariadne’s hand and pulled, but Ariadne was frozen. Rhea tried to pry apart the younger girl’s shock and fear—to shift it into anger, to action—but it was like trying to move a boulder. Rhea had used so much energy already, she was trembling to stay upright.