The Recall Trials
Chapter 90: Flames Remember the Names

Chapter 90: Flames Remember the Names

"Sometimes it’s not the fire that kills you... it’s the memory of who lit the match."

I knew something was wrong the second the fog thickened.

It tasted metallic. Like blood and ash.

I reached for the wall, but my hand slipped through air. There was nothing to hold onto.

Then the whispers began.

"Killer."

I spun around. The maze was breathing.

A light flickered.

And there they were.

Karen. Flynn. The two I’d once called teammates.

I froze.

They looked exactly how I remembered them.

With this unbothered expressions.

Karen grinned first. "Hey, Jojo."

Flynn followed. "Miss us?"

My fists clenched.

This wasn’t real. I knew it wasn’t real.

But the rage didn’t care.

Flynn smirked. "You really thought you were better than us, huh?"

Karen crossed her arms. "One good deed doesn’t make you good, Jojo. Warning a man because he had a daughter? Please."

I took a step back. My throat felt dry. "You left me to die."

Karen chuckled, stepping closer. "You broke protocol. You picked feelings over orders."

"I picked humanity," I snapped.

Flynn sneered. "And what did that get you?"

Suddenly, the wall to my right shifted.

A burning room appeared. An illusion, but so real I could smell the smoke again. My skin tingled where the flames had once burned me.

"You got exactly what you deserved," Karen whispered in my ear, even though she was across the room.

The maze was toying with me.

"You think you’re a hero," Flynn said. "You killed for money. Now suddenly you have morals?"

They moved in sync now, like puppets pulled by the same invisible strings.

"You saved one man," Karen hissed, "and you let dozens of others die."

"You’re not a savior, Jojo."

"You’re a weapon."

"You were built to kill."

The room twisted again.

Now I stood in front of a mirror.

But the reflection wasn’t mine.

It was Reynolds Aston, Vincent’s father....the Sector A executive who gave the kill order that day.

His eyes bore into me.

"You should have followed orders," he said. "You were meant to clean up. Not feel."

Suddenly, the reflection morphed.

It was Vincent.

Bleeding. His silver mask cracked and on the floor.

"You trusted me," his reflection whispered. "And look where that got you."

I screamed and punched the mirror.

It didn’t break.

Behind them... I saw the man I saved.

And his daughter.

They were standing in front of a burning slum, coughing, crying... and then collapsing. The smoke swallowed them like history forgotten.

My legs buckled.

"You thought you saved them," Karen whispered, walking in a slow circle around me. "But they were found. Executed a month later."

That can’t be true.

"No...no, I told him where to run. I gave him a map, I.."

"They didn’t make it."

Flynn bent down beside me.

"They still died."

"You were friends with Vincent."

"Sector A."

"The same blood as the man who ordered your execution."

Jojo clutched her head. "Stop..."

"You let him stab you."

"He poisoned you."

"You’re going to die because you trusted the wrong monster."

"No!" she screamed.

"He is the reason your body is rotting from the inside out."

"She thought she was better than us," Flynn laughed. "Better than killers. When she was one of the best."

Then Ryder stepped forward, eyes burning. "You’re not good, Jojo. You’re just another failed weapon. A discarded toy."

I tried to speak—but nothing came out.

My body trembled.

"You thought Vincent would care."

"But all he did was finish what his father started."

I fell to my knees.

Eyes stinging.

Chest heaving.

"He’s different," i whispered.

And then I saw it.

A new figure walking through the fog—

Vincent.

But not the real one.

This one wore his mask again. Cold. Blood on his gloves. My blood.

He raised the same dagger he’d stabbed me with in the Hunter’s Game.

"Good soldiers don’t hesitate," he whispered, echoing something Flynn once said.

He raised the blade.

I turned to run but the walls collapsed into fire.

But the maze didn’t stop.

Was I just a killer pretending to be something else?

Was this game just karma catching up?

I clawed at my head, trying to block them out.

Trying to remember something good.

Anything.

The way Zaara always tilted her head when she was thinking.

Carter’s funny limp.

The girl I shared the night with.

Real things.

But even those began to warp.

In their place, I saw the flames again. My teammates’ laughter. The blood dripping from my own hands.

And the dagger....Vincent’s dagger held by my own fingers now.

Pointed at my own heart.

"End it," Karen whispered.

"This time no one’s coming, Jojo."

She was right.

No backup.

No mission abort.

No one crashing in to pull me out.

Only the fire, and the dagger in my hands.

Just like before.

I coughed....hard.

Blood sprayed onto the floor in front of me.

I tried to crawl, tried to steady myself.

But my limbs felt heavy.

My knees buckled.

I dropped.

Another cough.

More blood.

God, so much blood.

I pressed my palms to the ground. Felt the heat blistering my skin. My mouth tasted metallic.

And I whispered to the fire:

"I don’t think I can make it this time."

A flame curled around my ankle like it agreed.

"You survived once," a strange voice echoed.

"Why not again?"

Because this time, I was already bleeding inside.

Already breaking apart.

Already drowning in smoke, and sorrow.

The fire wasn’t just fire now.

It was every person who left me behind.

Every scar they gave me.

Every person I couldn’t save.

Every time I told myself being strong was enough.

"Maybe I deserved the flames."

A single tear cut down my cheek, it was hot as hell.

My chest was dry.

One final, broken thought crossed my mind before the fog took over:

"I tried to do the right thing," I whispered into the fog. "But maybe I was always meant to die in a fire."

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