Bradley’s hand trembled around the phone. The numbers poured like water, fluid and merciless, reshaping themselves in endless sequences.No app could run like this. No malware he’d ever studied behaved this way. This wasn’t just code. It was alive. The message blinked again. USER CONFIRMED.He swallowed hard, eyes darting toward the cameras mounted in the corners of the lobby. Red dots blinked, recording everything. Did the system just… see him? Did someone on the inside know what he’d done?He shut the panel, fast, shoving the device back where he found it. His breath came sharp, ragged. Just a janitor. That’s what he was. Nothing more. If he reported it, they’d laugh, or worse, fire him.But the phone still pulsed in his palm, vibrating softly, like it had synced to his heartbeat. He couldn’t turn away. The elevator dinged again. Bradley nearly dropped the phone.A man stepped out, Victor Kane, board member, titan of Montrose Industries. His suit was immaculate, silver hair brushed

Bradley’s chest burned with every shallow breath. His hands shook as though they belonged to someone else. He tried to think, rationally, logicall, but his mind was a storm of questions.Victor Kane knew his name. The code knew his work. And the phone in his pocket vibrated with an insistent hum, demanding he go deeper.He staggered to the janitor’s closet, shoving inside and slamming the door. The air reeked of ammonia and mold. A single bulb flickered above rows of cleaning chemicals and battered mops. He braced against the shelf, dragged the phone out, and stared at the screen.LEVEL THREE INITIATED.The glow painted his face sickly pale. He typed with stiff fingers: What do you want from me?The response came instantly. COMPLETE THE SEQUENCE. OR THEY ERASE YOU.Bradley’s throat went dry. Who’s “they”?Static hissed across the screen. Then words, jagged as broken glass: BOARD. SECURITY. VICTOR.His stomach lurched. Whoever, or whatever, this system was, it knew exactly who had corn

Bradley’s chest burned, his legs screaming as the stairwell closed in around them. Echoes ricocheted from both above and below, boots hammering concrete, voices terse and clipped in radios. Trapped.He scanned the stairwell with the frantic eyes of a cornered animal. One option: locked steel doors every three floors, marked with sterile numbers. If he tried one and it didn’t open, they’d be caught like rats.Ella gripped the railing, breath ragged. “What do we do?”Bradley’s mind snapped into overdrive. He could see the patterns in their movements, hear the rhythm of pursuit, their timing, their spacing. It was math, all of it. A deadly algorithm with only one possible loophole.“Floor twenty-seven,” he whispered, already dragging her up.She hissed, “Why that one?”“No time, trust me.”Her glare was sharp enough to cut steel, but she followed. The stairwell door on twenty-nine slammed open above them. Shadows spilled through. One of the men leaned over the railing, pistol drawn, muzz

The Core was alive. That was Bradley’s first thought as the chamber pulsed with low, electric hums, the floor vibrating under his boots.The walls stretched higher than he could see, lined with glass towers of circuitry glowing faintly, like veins filled with light. Monitors blinked to life one by one, cascading in a wave that followed their movements, as if the room itself had turned its head to watch them.Ella stepped inside, awe colliding with fear. “This… this isn’t on any blueprint.”“No,” Bradley said, voice tight. His mind raced, old memories colliding with terrifying clarity. “They buried it. They buried me with it.”Before Ella could press, the duct behind them erupted with gunfire. Sparks sprayed, the metallic shriek of ricochets filling the shaft. Shadows stretched, distorted figures pouring closer.“Move!” Bradley slammed the hatch shut and spun the wheel. Bullets punched through seconds later, warping the steel with ugly dents.They sprinted deeper into the Core. The gro

Bradley collapsed against the hatch, chest heaving, palms blistered raw. The echoes of the guardian’s mechanical roar still reverberated through the metal walls, but muffled now, as though the monster raged in another world.Ella lay sprawled beside him in the narrow corridor, dripping and trembling. Her wet hair clung to her cheeks, her eyes wide and unfocused. For a moment neither of them spoke, their breaths the only sound in the stale air. Finally she whispered, voice shaking: “What the hell was that?”Bradley’s throat felt like sandpaper. “A guardian. They were” He stopped, shivering at the memory. “ supposed to be decommissioned years ago. Abandoned prototypes. Not… alive.”Ella shuddered, hugging her arms tight. “Alive enough to want us dead.”The corridor stretched before them, claustrophobic, pipes running along both sides. Dim red emergency lights pulsed every few meters, timed to the slow heartbeat of the Core above. The air reeked of rust and something faintly chemical, li