The alarms were deafening. Red lights flashed across the walls, the whole chamber shaking like the earth itself wanted Genesis buried.“Move, move, move!” Wilson yelled, dragging Irene ahead of him.Davion stumbled after Beverly, every muscle screaming, lungs burning, but he didn’t dare slow down. Behind them, the core whined louder and louder, building to something catastrophic.They tore down the hallway, the ceiling already cracking. Sparks rained from shredded wires. Sirens wailed. Somewhere in the distance, metal screamed like a dying beast.“We don’t have time!” Lina shouted from up ahead, her voice hoarse. “The charges are going too fast!”“They’re not!” Irene snapped back. “We set the timers—”The floor jolted under their feet, nearly knocking everyone down. Dust filled the air, choking and hot.“Four minutes!” Irene gasped, checking her watch as she sprinted. “We have four minutes before this place caves in on us!”Davion risked a glance back. He almost wished he hadn’t. The

The city looked different now. Quieter. Almost too quiet. Three days had passed since Genesis went up in flames, and Davion still couldn’t shake the ringing in his ears. The memory of the explosion—the blinding light, the shockwave, the sound of metal screaming—stayed burned into him. Every time he closed his eyes, he was back there, watching everything fall apart.Now, they were miles away, holed up in an abandoned subway station on the outskirts of the city. The air smelled like rust and damp stone. Wires ran across the walls, connecting laptops, hacked monitors, and half-dead drones scavenged from the ruins. It wasn’t much, but it was home for now.Beverly stood near a flickering monitor, scrolling through lines of corrupted data. Her eyes were dark from exhaustion, her hair tied in a messy bun that was starting to fall apart.“Most of this is junk,” she muttered. “Iron Hand’s code is encrypted six ways to hell. Whoever your dad hired to build this wasn’t just smart—they were paran

Davion’s breath came in ragged bursts as he sprinted down the corridor, the lights flickering like dying stars. The alarms howled overhead—shrill, metallic screams echoing through the walls of Genesis. His boots skidded across the metal floor as he rounded a corner, barely avoiding a fallen support beam. The air smelled of burning wires and blood.“Beverly!” he shouted, scanning the smoke-filled hallway. “Where are you?”Her voice came through the comm, static cutting through it. “We’re by the main reactor chamber—Reika’s trying to open the lock!”Davion gritted his teeth and pushed forward, his side aching from the earlier fight. The implant scar on his neck burned like fire, but he didn’t slow down. Not now. Not when they were this close.When he reached the end of the hall, the giant steel door loomed before him, sealed tight with a red biometric scanner. Beverly stood by the control panel, her face streaked with grime and sweat, while Reika knelt beside the wiring, tools scattered

The city looked different when they came back. Quieter, almost hollow. Davion couldn’t tell if it was because of what they’d done—or because the world was holding its breath, waiting for whatever came next.Beverly walked beside him, her hood up, hair tangled from the road. They’d been moving for days, sleeping in motels, train stations, anywhere that didn’t ask questions. Now, as the skyline rose ahead of them, she whispered, “Feels weird, doesn’t it?”“What does?” Davion asked, eyes scanning the street as if expecting shadows to crawl out of the corners.“Walking around like everything’s normal.”Davion glanced around. People hurried past, heads down, phones in hand. No one looked twice at them. No one knew they’d just destroyed Genesis. No one knew how close the world had come to losing itself.“Yeah,” he said quietly. “It’s weird.”They stopped at a small café near the edge of town. The sign buzzed weakly—JAVA STATION—and the smell of coffee hit them the second they stepped inside

The city didn’t sleep that night. Sirens echoed far off, lights flickered in patterns that didn’t make sense, and somewhere above it all, Davion felt like the world itself was glitching. He sat by the motel window, hoodie pulled up, staring at the skyline that used to feel like home. It didn’t anymore.Beverly was passed out across the other bed, her boots still on, her jacket half falling off the chair. Her phone screen glowed faintly beside her—news alerts, footage leaks, panic. Everyone thought the blackout was some random power surge. No one knew it was the ghost of a man trying to rewrite the city.Davion rubbed his face, exhausted. He’d been scanning old frequencies, trying to trace the fragments of his father’s code. Every time he thought he’d cornered it, it split off again, hiding inside new servers like it was alive.“Still awake?” Beverly’s voice was groggy, low.Davion didn’t turn. “Couldn’t sleep.”She sat up, blinking against the dim light. “You look like death.”“Thanks