The entrance to the uplink bunker was buried beneath layers of moss, rotting leaves, and a collapsed thicket of tree limbs. No one would have known it was there unless they were looking. And even then, it took Jared nearly twenty minutes to uncover the old steel hatch hidden beneath a camouflaged tarp coated in decades of forest debris.Mei knelt beside him, shivering from the cold sweat that came with fear. She held the rifle tightly, even though she hadn’t fired it once yet. Her hands trembled, but her stance didn’t break.“This is it?” she asked quietly.Jared gave a slight nod. “Used to be a failsafe command post. Remote systems control. It was taken offline before the Collapse.”“Why would they hide it way out here?”“Because it wasn’t meant to be found. Not by the public.”The badge Finn gave him still felt warm in his hand. Like it carried the weight of all the ghosts it had passed through before reaching him. He slid it into the scanner beside the hatch. There was a long silen

The hum was getting louder. Not the steady thrum of the transport’s engine, but something sharper—mechanical, high-pitched, and circling. They tightened their grip on the edge of the seat as the cabin light flickered once, twice, then went out completely. For a second, the only illumination came from the staccato flashes of lightning through the rain-smeared window. Each burst of light revealed the same thing: a dark silhouette hovering in the storm, matching their speed. “Tell me you’re seeing that,” they said, their voice lower than intended. Liam’s eyes snapped toward the window, then to them. “Stay still.” He pushed himself up and reached for the latch above his seat, his other hand never straying far from the weapon at his hip. The hum shifted pitch, rising higher, almost impatient. They couldn’t tell if it was some kind of drone or something far worse. The pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom from the cockpit. We have a tail. Adaptive stealth mode is activated. They co

The clouds didn’t just part—they tore. It was like some invisible hand ripped a wound in the sky, peeling back the storm to reveal something that had no right to exist above the world. A vertical slit of blinding light cut through the black clouds, its edges jagged and shifting like it was alive. Through it, shapes moved. Not clouds. Not aircraft. Things with too many limbs, their silhouettes twisting in ways his brain didn’t want to understand. Liam stood rigid at the hatch, his fingers tightening on the frame. The flare’s dying glow barely lit his profile, but he could see Liam’s jaw clench. He’d seen this before. He recognized it. The light poured into the transport, making the rain look like silver needles in the air. His mask’s visor dimmed automatically to shield his eyes, but it didn’t make the sight any less wrong. One of the shapes pushed closer to the tear. He thought it was just blackness until its head—or what he assumed was its head—tilted toward them. Even from this

The rain seemed to stop for it. Not around them, not on the ruined highway, but around that figure. Droplets struck an invisible barrier, sliding off without ever touching its form. The storm bent, shifted, listened. It stepped forward, slow, deliberate. Each footfall echoed louder than the rain itself, like the earth wanted them to hear. “Back,” Liam hissed, pushing him behind him. His blade gleamed in the dim light, silver lines carved into the steel pulsing faintly, as if the weapon itself recognized the thing before them. But it wasn’t looking at Liam. Its glowing eyes cut straight through him, straight into him. The voice pressed into his skull, “You survived the fracture.” “All right. The system made the right decision.” The words struck like a blow to the body. His heart lurched into his throat as his breath caught. System. It spoke the word as though it were familiar with it, as though it was more aware of the weird whispers and flashes he had been having than he was.

The rain had finally stopped, but the forest still dripped with the weight of the storm. Every sound seemed sharper now—the crunch of wet leaves underfoot, the hum of insects returning, the faint rush of water sliding down the slope.Jared’s pulse was still racing. He couldn’t get the image out of his head: the shadowed figure on the cliffside, watching them. The system hadn’t given him a full profile, only a faint pulse: [Unknown Entity — Sync Incomplete]. Then, just like that, the presence vanished.“Jared?” Mei’s voice was softer than before, cautious. She was good at reading his moods—too good, maybe. “Who was that?”He didn't respond. The surge that had cracked across his skin when the figure appeared had left his hand still warm, nearly burning. Beneath the surface, his veins glowed dimly, like molten metal threads, and then faded back into normal flesh.That wasn't typical. That wasn't typical, even by system standards.He inhaled deeply. At last, he said, "I don't know." "But