Rain fell in thin lines, steady and cold. It ran down broken concrete and pooled in dark seams along the street.Zane stood at the curb and watched the old substation. Its windows were boarded. Rust streaked the metal doors.A bus passed and splashed water against the sidewalk. No one looked at the building.Zane checked his watch. He tapped the earpiece once. “Clear?” he asked.Rex’s voice came back low. “No motion inside. No heat spikes. Cameras are blind past the fence.”Zane nodded. He crossed the street without rushing. The fence leaned inward. One section was cut and wired back together with care. Zane slipped through and crouched near the wall.Victor waited by the door. He wore a dark jacket and gloves with the fingers cut off. Victor glanced at Zane. He said nothing.Celeste stood a few steps back, phone in hand, screen dark. She watched the street, not the building.Zane raised two fingers. Victor unlocked the door. The metal hinge creaked. Victor froze. He waited. Nothing m

Rex sealed the hatch behind him and cut the light for three seconds. He waited. Nothing moved. No sound followed him down.He turned the light back on. The beam caught old concrete walls and bundled fiber lines drooping like dead vines. The tunnel sloped downward and narrowed fast.Rex stepped forward. His boots splashed through shallow water that smelled of rust and oil. The air felt cold and stale. Every breath tasted old.He moved slow. One hand on the wall. The other on his tablet. The signal map flickered and broke, then settled into thin blue lines. “This is it,” he said, quiet.No one answered. He did not expect them to. The tunnel split after twenty meters. Rex chose left. The right path showed signs of collapse and fresh dust. He did not trust it.He ducked under a fallen cable rack. The metal groaned but held. His light swept ahead, catching old junction boxes with faded city tags.He stopped at the first access panel. The lock was ancient. He pulled a small cutter from his

The warehouse sat between two apartment blocks and a closed laundromat. Its lights were off. A faded mark on the side wall showed it was tagged for Urban Core use.Rain slicked the street. Trash bags hugged the curb. A stray cat ran when an engine cut.Two vans rolled in without headlights. They stopped hard. Doors slid open at the same time.Men stepped out in dark jackets. They carried rifles wrapped in plastic. One man kicked the warehouse door and checked his watch.Across the street, a light flicked on in a third-floor window. A woman pulled a curtain back an inch. She froze.The first shot hit the door lock. Metal screamed. The second shot blew the hinges.Automatic fire followed. Short bursts. Clean and fast.Inside the warehouse, empty space echoed. Pallets and dust. A ladder fell over.The men moved in pairs. One covered. One advanced. Boots crunched glass. A shot cracked from inside. It hit the doorframe. Wood splintered.The men answered with more fire. Bullets tore through

The substation sat under the freeway, hidden by concrete pillars and old warning signs. Water dripped from a cracked joint and pooled near a rusted drain. The hum of power filled the space, steady and low.Zane stood near the breaker wall with Victor and Rex. Celeste watched a bank of screens on a folding table. The lights flickered once, then held. Boots scraped on concrete.Victor turned first. His hand went to his jacket. Zane stepped forward, blocking the narrow aisle.A woman walked out of the shadow between two transformers. She moved without hurry. She wore a dark coat and gloves. No weapon showed. She stopped ten feet away. “Evening,” she said.Victor raised his chin. “You’re lost.”She shook her head once. “No.”Rex glanced at the cameras. His fingers froze above the keyboard. “We didn’t flag anyone.”The woman looked at the ceiling, then at the breaker wall. “Your west camera is blind. Glare from the sodium lamp outside. You keep forgetting to tilt it.”Rex stared at the scr

The slum smelled of wet concrete and burned wiring. Broken neon signs flickered overhead. Water dripped from a broken pipe, landing in shallow puddles.Zane crouched against a wall. He traced his fingers over the symbol etched in the brick. His skin tingled. The air felt heavier here.Rex whispered from behind. “Nothing in the network is normal. The sensors are alive.”Zane didn’t answer. He stared at the wires hanging from the ceiling. They pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat.Nerissa moved beside him. She didn’t touch the walls. She just watched. Her eyes glimmered. “The city remembers its gods,” she said.“What do you mean?” Zane asked.She gestured to the surrounding buildings. “Look at the junction boxes. The water pumps. The streetlights. Every system here is part of something bigger. Something conscious.”A nearby streetlight blinked on. Then another. Then the whole block glowed, even though the main power lines were dead.Zane felt it again. The control he’d had over doors and li