Page 261 of Destined For Her Alien Daddy

“You fear cowardice.”

I laugh under my breath. “You picked that up fast.”

“You hide full truth.”

“I preserve it.”

“You hide.”

The word lands cleanly.

I step back from the console, anger rising because anger is easier than shame. “You don’t get to say that like it’s simple. You were there. Sort of. Whatever. You know what happened when people got exposed too fast.”

“Yes.”

“You know full origin data could break cultures, religions, governments, families.”

“Yes.”

“You know people can turn meaninglessness into permission to hurt each other.”

“Yes.”

“Then why does it still feel like cowardice?”

The presence shifts, and the light in the room trembles. “Because truth pulls. Fear pulls. Love pulls. Responsibility is standing where pulls conflict.”

I stare at the thread.

“That is annoying.”

“Likely.”

“You’re all weirdly calm about being devastating.”

“Old.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

“No.”

The answer is so Echo-adjacent that my throat tightens. I rest my hand against the console and let myself feel the room: the chilled air, the hard floor under my bare feet, the hum of security systems, the soft pulse of the shard behind layered fields. I am alive in a room built around a secret. I am not chained here. No god commands my silence. No priestess holds a knife at my back. I chose to come.

That makes it worse.

That makes it matter.

The thread curls into a small spiral of light. “Humanity continues searching.”

I frown. “Humanity specifically?”

“Your species displays high question persistence across comfort-loss thresholds.”

Despite everything, I smile. “That is either a compliment or a diagnosis.”

“Both.”

“Fair.”