Corruption SpreadsThe golden chains pulsed with radiant light, but black cracks began to snake through them, crawling like veins of rot. Each link trembled under the dual forces Frank’s will forging stability and Selene’s corruption twisting it toward annihilation.Frank gritted his teeth, sweat streaming down his face. It’s not enough every ounce of strength I give, she drains twice as fast.Ella grabbed his arm, her voice urgent. “Frank! You’re burning yourself out. If you keep forcing it, you’ll break!” But Frank couldn’t stop, he wouldn’t.Selene’s RevelationSelene laughed, her voice echoing in fractured tones. “Do you even know what you’re holding, janitor? Collapse Protocol wasn’t built to erase it was built to rewrite. You’re not anchoring the world you’re feeding it the blueprint of yourself.”Mara’s eyes widened. “She’s right. Frank the more you anchor, the more the system is rewriting reality around you. If Selene poisons that ”Her words caught in her throat. “then you be

The Abyss CollapsesThe abyss quaked, fracturing into jagged shards of reality as golden silver and shadow silver chains writhed like armies at war. Every clash between Frank and his duplicate sent ripples across the space, threatening to pull Ella and Mara into the void.Ella screamed as another tendril of her aura was torn from her chest and absorbed into the duplicate. Her skin paled, lips trembling. “Frank I can’t hold on ” Frank’s eyes widened, rage and fear surged together.The Choice EmergesSelene raised her hand, her voice velvet and cruel. “Frank Ashford, the Rewrite has given you two paths. Strike down your duplicate and save yourself but in doing so, you sever your resonance with Ella forever. Or hold your bond with her, and perish as he consumes you both.”Mara spat blood, still standing despite the pressure. “Don’t listen to her! She’s twisting it!” But even Mara’s voice trembled because Selene wasn’t lying.Chains CrossThe duplicate’s chains lashed toward Ella. Frank’s

The blackout wasn’t natural, Frank knew it instantly the hum of the building’s generators never came. The emergency lights failed to spark. Instead, the silence deepened oppressive, suffocating, like the entire skyscraper had been severed from the city’s grid.Someone had cut them off. “Stay calm!” Frank barked, his voice the only anchor in the dark. He could hear the board’s panic the shuffle of leather shoes, the scrape of chairs, Ella’s sharp intake of breath.Then, faint but unmistakable, came the sound of boots. Heavy, synchronized, approaching from the corridor outside. Frank’s pulse spiked whoever had sent the bleeding man into their meeting wasn’t finished. This was the strike.He slipped the black drive into his pocket. “Everyone away from the door,” he commanded. But panic overruled logic, Victor Crane shoved past Ella, trying to force the door shut, but it was too late.The door exploded inward a squad of masked men in tactical gear stormed in, rifles raised, night-vision o

Frank’s world was a haze of smoke and blood. The sound of rotors thundered in his skull muffled and distorted as though he were underwater.His chest burned, every breath ragged and wet, and the weight of the rifle was gone his hands empty, sticky with his own blood, voices swirled around him, sharp but fractured.Operative (urgent, echoing): “He’s hit get pressure on it, now!”Second voice: “We don’t have time, they’re pulling back with the girl”First voice (snapping): “Forget the girl, he’s the asset! Get him out!”Ella, her scream cut through the fog, faint but piercing.Ella (distant, terrified): “Frank! Don’t let go please”His eyelids fluttered the smoke thinned just enough for him to see her being dragged into the shadows by Derek, her nails clawing against the marble floor, soldiers hauling her like prey. Her eyes locked onto his wild, desperate before the smoke swallowed her whole.Frank (hoarse whisper): “Ella”The woman in black tactical gear crouched over him, pressing ha

The sirens wouldn’t stop they wailed through Frank’s skull, dragging him from blackness. He jolted awake, gasping, his chest searing like fire. Wires tangled around him, IV lines tugging at his skin. His vision swam white ceiling lights above, antiseptic sharp in his nose and then voices.Dr. Lang (urgent, muffled): “BP dropping again. He’s not stabilizing.”Unknown Nurse: “We’ll lose him if we can’t”Frank (hoarse whisper): “Ella…”The voices blurred, the room tilting sideways. He forced himself upright, but hands shoved him down. A mask pressed over his mouth, darkness swallowed him again.When he woke a second time, silence no sirens, no shouts just the steady beep of a monitor. A figure sat in the chair beside his bed, broad shoulders a jaw set like stone.Frank (rasping): “You.”The man leaned forward Commander Hale, the operative leader from the helicopter. His presence filled the sterile hospital room like a stormcloud.Hale: “You’re lucky you’re breathing.”Frank (struggling