You didn’t even get a chance to react before the pain hit.

White-hot. All-consuming. Like your mind was being peeled apart layer by layer, ripped open from the inside out.

You screamed.

Or at least—you thought you did. Maybe it was just in your head, rattling through your skull like shattered glass. Your knees hit the ground, hands clawing at your temples, but the pressure didn’t stop. If anything, it only got worse.

And through the searing agony, you heard her.

"Murderer!"

Her voice wasn’t the soft, warm thing you remembered. It was raw. Broken. Venomous.

You barely managed to look up, blinking past the haze of red creeping into your vision. Miss Martian stood before you, eyes blazing, rage distorting her usually kind face. There was nothing but hate in her expression.

Hate for you.

Because she believed it.

She believed you had killed Artemis. That you had betrayed the team. That everything you ever shared—every mission, every laugh, every moment of trust—had been a lie.

And then—

Something shifted.

You felt it before you saw it.

The mental attack faltered. The pressure eased—just slightly—like a hesitating hand hovering over an open wound.

Her face twisted.

Confusion. Horror. Guilt.

She saw.

She saw everything.

The undercover mission. The deception. Artemis. The explosion. The pods. The plan to save everyone.

The truth.

Miss Martian staggered back, eyes wide, hand clamping over her mouth as if she had physically tasted the mistake she just made.

But it was too late.

Your body was limp on the ground, barely holding on. Your mind—cracked. Not broken, not yet—but damage had been done.