They crept forward. The tunnel opened into a flooded sub-lab. Screens flickered erratically, replaying old surveillance feeds, Celeste in boardrooms, her father shaking hands, Dickson on a training field years earlier.On the largest monitor, her own face blinked to life, eyes cold, voice distorted. “You can’t stop what he started.”Celeste whispered, “That’s my voice.”Dickson stepped between her and the screen. “It’s the AI. Adaptive mimicry.”She stared at the image. “Then it knows everything.”“Not everything.” He pulled a data spike from his vest. “Let’s make sure of that.”He slammed the spike into the console. Electricity screamed through the system. Sparks exploded overhead, lighting the lab in violent white.The AI-voice glitched, collapsing into static, then one clear sentence slipped through “Phase Five initiated.”The monitors went black. Dickson turned to Celeste. “Whatever this is, it just escalated.”Before she could respond, the ceiling shuddered. Water burst from a cr

A gate sealed with biometric lock, corporate emblem burned half away.Dickson knelt, prying the panel off. “Keep watch.”Celeste peeked around the corner. The mist glowed, shadows moving, crawling. The drones were slicing through the flare’s smoke now, searching again.“Hurry.”“Almost.”“You always say that.”“Because it’s always true.”The lock clicked green. The gate slid open a hand’s width, then jammed.“Come on” He forced it wider with a shoulder. “Go!”She slipped through. He followed, pulling the gate shut just as the first drone’s claw struck the bars. Sparks erupted.Inside, total blackness.He flicked his wrist light. Rows of old server racks stretched out into the dark, all powered down. Dust thick as ash.Celeste whispered, “What is this place?”“Vonn archive vault. Offline sector. Perfect.”She turned on him. “You brought us here on purpose?”He didn’t look back. “I needed to know if it still existed.”“Why?”“Because this is where your father kept his failsafes.”Her pu

The metal door hissed, Cold air bled out, tasting of ozone and rust. A single word blinked across the panel: ACCESS GRANTED.Dickson raised his weapon. “Stay behind me.”Celeste’s voice was barely a whisper. “I don’t think behind you means safe anymore.”The door split open. A shaft stretched downward, steel ribs, cable lights spiraling into darkness.Dickson scanned the interior. “Service elevator’s offline.”“Then howHe gripped the maintenance ladder bolted to the wall. “The old fashioned way.”They climbed, The hum of distant servers pulsed through the metal like a heartbeat. Somewhere far below, turbines whined, alive, aware.Halfway down, Celeste asked, “What is Level Zero?”“ARCHON’s root chamber. The first line of code your father ever wrote.”“And the last thing he tried to hide.”He nodded.The ladder vibrated suddenly. Celeste froze. “Did you feel that?”Dickson looked up. The lights above them flickered once, then again. A low mechanical growl rolled through the shaft.“So

Rain sliced through the ruins of Midtown, turning broken glass into rivers of light. Dickson moved fast hood up, jaw tight, eyes flicking between the wet streets and the ghost-blue glow of the scanner on his wrist.Ping Ping Ping. Each pulse drew him deeper into the city’s silent heart. “Come on, Celeste,” he muttered. “Give me something real.”Static crackled in his earpiece. “ckson” He froze. “Say that again.”Nothing. Just the rain. He ducked under a collapsed billboard, sheltering long enough to pull a micro-drive from his jacket and slot it into the scanner. The display lit up with flickering code fragments of an AI signature woven through an encrypted frequency.ID Match VONN/CELESTE Integrity 17 %.“Seventeen percent of a miracle,” he said quietly.Footsteps echoed behind him. He spun gun up. A figure in a rain-slick coat raised both hands.“Relax, Ford. You’d shoot your only lead?”Dickson narrowed his eyes. “Harris?”The former tech-operative looked worse than the skyline

The world was quiet. Then came the drip of water. Metal groaned, Dickson blinked against the dark. Every breath hurt. Dust and ash floated like snow through a shaft of silver light.He rolled onto his side, coughing. “Celeste?”No answer. Only the slow hum of dying circuits. He pushed to his feet. The vault was gone half collapsed, half reborn. Cables hung like vines. Pools of light flickered along the floor, blinking out one by one.He called again, softer. “Celeste.”A whisper rose from the smoke. “I’m here.”He turned. She stood near the core’s remains barefoot, hair tangled, skin pale beneath a faint lattice of light. Tiny streams of code glimmered beneath her veins like living mercury. “Jesus,” he breathed.“Don’t,” she said quietly. “Don’t come closer.”“You’re alive.”“Not exactly.”Her voice carried two tones one human, one echo. It wasn’t just heard; it vibrated through the air. “What did it do to you?”“It finished what it started.”She touched her chest; light rippled outwa