Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace (Dexter and Phoebe) novel Chapter 409

"Ready or not, here comes the roller coaster ride..."

The eerie voice cut through the air again, this time unmistakably human, not the mechanical recordings we'd heard on earlier levels. Someone was pulling the strings from behind the curtain.

This person had to be part of the plot.

"Such a grand setup... There's definitely more than one person behind this," I muttered under my breath, my brows furrowed in concentration.

In fact, I suspected a whole organization was involved, a gang of sorts.

"It's not just one person," Colin confirmed.

"Countdown 3, 2, 1..."

As the countdown ended, the mechanisms under the ground started moving unpredictably again.

Colin and I took shelter under a carousel, narrowly avoiding a trapdoor that opened right beneath us.

If it weren't for our quick reflexes, we might have fallen through.

"Screams echoed as people tried to escape their hiding spots, only to draw attention to themselves.

"Help me!" one yelled, trying to run away.

Nearby, Stella nearly fell through an opening trapdoor, but Robin caught her in time, saving her from the fall.

Unfortunately, Zoe's scream gave away their position.

They all ended up hiding in a cabinet, practically blowing their cover.

With no other choice, Bran stepped out to confront the assailants, despite being poorly armed. "We're really not equipped for this..." Bran cursed under his breath.

As Robin tried to protect Stella and join the fray, his axe met the business end of an opponent's chainsaw.

"Help me!" Now it was Bran's turn to scream, dragging Robin away in a desperate escape.

"Don't make me wait any longer," Colin's voice was hoarse, trembling with anticipation.

He was tired of waiting.

"Phoebe, you often wonder if genetically modified humans are still human. But what makes us human, irreplaceably so, is emotion. That's something that can never be replaced," he said, his voice filled with conviction.

That was what Phoebe had always sought to prove. With emotions, she was human. With emotions, she could find reasons and the strength to live.

The side effects of genetic modification were overwhelming. Depression, a lack of will to live, being puppeteered by self-destructive thoughts...

Because such existence was unnatural, against ethics, morality, even the natural order.

I felt numb, reaching out to grab Colin's wrist. "Let's face it together."

Lately, I had been haunted by dreams, pondering whether human consciousness belonged to carbon or silicon. If consciousness could be transferred like computer files, and the human body was merely a vessel, then perhaps 'rebirth,' 'regeneration,' even 'immortality' were not so far-fetched after all.