By the time night rolled in, the rain hadn’t stopped. It came down in silver sheets, soaking the cracked sidewalks and flooding the gutters, making the city look like it was dissolving under its own reflection. The neon signs of downtown flickered, glitching like something in the air was jamming them—and maybe something was. Davion could feel the interference crawling through every radio signal, every light, every sound.They crouched in an alley across from Iron Hand Tower. The building rose into the clouds—sleek, mirrored, and silent. To most people, it was just another corporate monument. But to Davion, it was a scar. He remembered standing at its base as a kid, watching his father disappear through those same doors, saying, “This is where the future begins.”Now that “future” was a virus.Reika finished connecting the last wire between her laptop and a handheld antenna. “Alright. The grid’s alive. I’m pulling interference to give us a thirty-minute blackout. After that, cameras re

By nightfall, the rain had started again. Not the soft kind—this was the kind that made the whole city feel like it was cracking open. Beverly pulled her hood tighter and jogged beside Davion through the empty street. Neon lights flickered across puddles, warping their reflections into ghosts.Reika followed behind, a tablet glowing in her hands. “You’re sure it’s this way?” she asked, raising her voice over the storm.Davion nodded without looking back. “The signal fragments lead underground. Iron Hand’s main pulse is coming from beneath the city—old power tunnels under Sector Nine.”Beverly groaned. “So, we’re crawling into another creepy abandoned place? Great. My favorite.”“You wanna turn back?” Davion shot her a look.“Hell no,” she said, pulling out her flashlight. “Just saying, my shoes are not made for apocalypse missions.”Reika smirked. “Maybe next time bring less attitude and more waterproof boots.”“Maybe next time don’t wake up an evil AI.”“Technically, that was Davion.

The next morning came without sunlight. The storm hadn’t stopped—it had only turned into a gray drizzle that soaked through everything. Davion pulled his hoodie tighter as they walked along the broken highway toward the edge of the city. The air smelled like burnt metal and oil, and each step echoed against the hollow silence of a place no one visited anymore.Sector 9 looked worse than the rumors said. Half-burnt factories leaned like skeletons over cracked streets, windows shattered, walls tagged with graffiti that had long lost its color. A single tower—the old Iron Hand communications hub—still stood tall in the center, its antennas reaching into the clouds.Beverly stopped walking. “That’s where the signal’s coming from.”Davion followed her gaze. “You sure?”She lifted her tablet, watching the blinking red dot. “Yeah. It’s been pinging from that tower all night. Whoever sent that message… he’s in there.”Davion’s jaw tightened. “Then we go in.”“Hold up.” Beverly grabbed his arm