B.O.R.I.S Speaks
The painting shifted.
It wasn't movement, not exactly—just the illusion of it. Like the oil strokes had decided to breathe.
And then—
"I saw him."
The voice came from nowhere and everywhere.
The triplets froze.
Noise narrowed her eyes.
B.O.R.I.S spoke again.
"I saw the child in the First Lady's womb."
His voice wasn't loud, but it pressed against the room, warping the air itself.
"But I could not keep him."
A pause.
"He was never meant to live."
Lupa felt her pulse quicken.
Romulus gritted his teeth.
Remo whispered, "Then how did we?"
B.O.R.I.S did not answer immediately.
Instead—
He changed.
The painting unraveled, brushstrokes bleeding outward into the air, until the impressionist fog became something real.
And standing there—
Where the painting had been—
Was him.
B.O.R.I.S, no longer static.
The Deal with Hit-her
"I tried to survive."
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
His form flickered, unstable, as if his very presence bent the edges of reality.
"I did what I had to do."
He lifted his gaze to the triplets, to Lupa most of all.
"I made a deal."
A silence, heavy and thick.
"I became the president's son."
Lupa's breath hitched.
"What?"
B.O.R.I.S exhaled.
"He had no heir. His child was gone. His wife was gone. And the world was waiting."
The memory clawed its way into the air.
A grieving man, staring at the lifeless body of his wife.
A room full of advisors, whispering, murmuring. Who would lead after him? Who would carry his name?
A solution.
An offer.
"He needed a child."
B.O.R.I.S's voice was cold now.
"And I needed protection."
Why B.O.R.I.S Had to Stop Him
"I didn't care about power."
His fingers twitched, as if reaching for something he couldn't quite touch.
"I just wanted to hear Nina Simone forever."
But the world kept shifting.
Power corrupts.
And B.O.R.I.S saw it happening—the way Hit-her's hunger grew.
The way he was expanding his grip on the planet.
The way B.O.R.I.S wasn't in control anymore.
So he did the only thing he could.
He adjusted the world.
"You think Hit-her died because Alphabela pulled the trigger?"
A pause.
"No."
B.O.R.I.S's gaze was sharp.
"He died because I made sure the world saw him fall first."
Lupa froze.
Romulus exhaled.
Remo tilted his head.
"The slap."
B.O.R.I.S nodded.
"I made sure that child moved at the right moment, that his hand struck at the right time, that the entire world saw their leader humiliated.*
A small smile.
"I let the fire start."
And then—
"And Alphabela? She just struck the match."
Noise Explains What B.O.R.I.S Cannot
"He doesn't know."
Noise's voice cut through the air.
She wasn't looking at B.O.R.I.S anymore.
She was looking at the triplets.
"None of you were supposed to exist in this form."
Remo's brows furrowed.
"What the hell does that mean?"
Noise stepped forward.
"Think about it. A single child with the genetic weight of too many ancestries. Memories imprinted across generations. A body that would have broken under its own code."
She exhaled.
"The equation was unstable."
Lupa's breath hitched.
"So it corrected itself."
Noise nodded.
"You weren't born."
A beat.
"You were divided."
The room crackled.
A soundless understanding settling into the air.
The Virus Was Never a Mistake
"You think the virus was an accident?"
Noise's voice was calm.
"It wasn't."
Lupa's mind was moving too fast.
She had spent her life solving impossible structures.
But now—
Now, she realized she had been one.
"Then what was it?" she whispered.
Noise turned to her fully.
"A correction."
The Balance Between Chaos and Order
B.O.R.I.S exhaled.
"I did not create this alignment."
He looked at Noise.
"I only exist to witness it."
Noise smiled, just slightly.
"And I exist to remind you that witnessing is also an act of creation."
Silence.
Then—
Noise's voice softened.
"You didn't have to bring me here, B.O.R.I.S."
She stepped closer.
"The universe already did."
B.O.R.I.S did not argue.
Because she was right.
