Override (Glitch)

healed scars lining his head where his skull had been cut open.
    “Adrien,” Jilia said, her tone falsely bright as she lowered the imaging panel. “You’ve done very well. Please go back to your dorm room and rest now.”
    He stood up and did what she said. All he ever did now was follow orders. Nothing else. He’d stand for hours if no one told him to sit down.
    Rand was waiting to escort Adrien back to his dorm room.
    “What is it?” Sophia asked the doctor anxiously.
    Jilia swallowed, then pulled out a projection tablet that loaded a 3-D image of Adrien’s head.
    “He’s had multiple operations. From the bit that he is able to remember and relate, the Chancellor had him under compulsion for over a month. Until he had a vision of what he thought was Zoe’s death.” She looked at me. “He foresaw you going into the allergy attack with no one there to save you. He knew if he told the Chancellor, he’d be telling her how to kill you. His determination not to harm you somehow enabled him to finally break her control over his mind. He began successfully fighting back and refusing to tell her his visions anymore. That was when she started in on the surgical options.”
    I felt numb as she spoke. This had happened to him because of me.
    “What, as some kind of torture?” Adrien’s mother asked, stricken.
    “She did torture him at first to try to get the answers out of him.” Jilia looked down. “But in the end, she lobotomized him. She cut out portions of his brain, including almost the entire amygdala. He has his memories, but can no longer attach emotion to them. Or to anything he experiences. After the operations…” she swallowed again. “After the last operation it appears the Chancellor’s compulsion did indeed work on him again. But he’d stopped having visions altogether.” She looked at me. “The only reason the Chancellor even kept him alive was as collateral against you. She knew that he had to be alive for Ginni’s power to locate him, so she could draw you into the trap.”
    “Is he ever going to be my Adrien again?” Sophia asked. I held my breath while I waited for Jilia’s answer.
    She looked at the floor again.
    “Tell me!” Sophia said.
    “The developments in organ-regrowth technology have been promising over the last fifty years, but no one has ever succeeded at regrowing entire portions of the brain. Any replication processes will be long and slow. We’ll begin right away, but I can’t make either of you any promises. I’m so sorry.”
    I stepped back, stunned.
    “But you’re a healer,” Sophia shouted. “Can’t you do something?”
    The sorrow on Jilia’s face clear. “I’m sorry, Sophia.” She reached out to put a hand on Sophia’s shoulder, but Sophia ripped her arm away from the contact. She spun and hurried from the room, I think so we wouldn’t see her cry.
    I couldn’t handle it anymore. I had to get out of here too. Sophia was gone when I got to the hallway, and my steps echoed loudly in the empty space. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Regardless of everything Jilia had said, I knew Adrien and I were destined to be together. There was supposed to be a happy ending. Adrien and I, standing in the sunlight at the end of the war. But then again, Adrien had never told me that’s how it would end. In the vision he’d shared with me, I was in the sunlight, but I’d been all alone. And I’d been running toward danger, not celebrating victory.
    I stopped when I came to the T in the hallway, looking up in surprise when I realized my feet had carried me to Adrien’s dorm. I stood outside the door for a moment, preparing myself for what was on the other side, then pushed the button and stepped in.
    Adrien sat at the study table, staring at the wall. My heart tightened in my chest at the sight of him. He looked so broken, but the strong cut of his nose and his rugged jaw were still so familiar. This was the boy I loved. Jilia had to be wrong. Even if the Chancellor had removed part of his brain, surely Adrien was still in there somewhere. We were more than our physical parts, more than our electrical synapses or brain tissue; that was what Adrien always said. That’s what Cole had taught me. We had souls.
    I sat down in the chair opposite him and reached for his hand. He let me take it. Maybe if we touched for long enough, it would spark him back to life. The memory of the diagrams Jilia had shown us popped up in my mind, but I expelled the