The office was quiet, but Alex could feel the weight of the world pressing down on him. Humanaut’s servers hummed softly in the corner, a constant reminder of the empire he had rebuilt, one that demanded his attention even as his heart ached for Clara.He sat at his desk, staring at the glowing dashboard. Reports of Humanaut’s growth scrolled across the screen, user engagement metrics, success stories, and the news alerts that praised the company’s ethical AI. And yet, nothing mattered.Clara had been resting for most of the day, but when she’d opened her eyes that morning, pale and weak, he had seen the truth: her condition was worsening. Her doctor’s words rang relentlessly in his mind. “stress could be dangerous… any exertion could make things worse.”Alex clenched his fists, knuckles white. He had promised himself he would put her first, yet every notification from Humanaut, every email from investors, pulled him back to the empire he had built. The company needed him. Users depe

The phone rang with a sharp urgency that sliced through the quiet of Alex’s apartment. He glanced at Clara, who lay resting on the couch, pale and fragile, eyes half-closed, and his stomach knotted.He answered, his voice tight. “Alex Vale.”The line crackled, then a familiar, cold voice came through, Jonah’s.“Alex,” Jonah said smoothly, as if they were still colleagues, “hope I’m not disturbing… personal matters?”Alex felt a jolt of anger. “Jonah. What do you want?”“Just letting you know,” Jonah said, his tone deceptively casual, “Humanaut’s assets are now under Neonetics’ temporary control. The board sided with us, no one can stop the transfer. All your systems, all your code, everything you’ve built is… ours for the time being.”Alex’s grip tightened around the phone. He could feel his knuckles turning white. “You, you can’t do that! The board can’t just...”“They can,” Jonah interrupted, voice firm, “because you’re not here to manage it. You’ve abandoned the company. And let m

The knock came late in the evening, sharp and deliberate. Alex had been hunched over Clara’s laptop, reviewing notes for a mental health session she had insisted he take over briefly. The soft glow of the screen lit his tired face.He froze. Visitors were rare. The hospital wing was quiet. Clara’s breathing was steady, but he felt a flutter of unease.Another knock, heavier this time.“Alex,” a voice called, familiar yet distant.He froze completely. Jonah.Alex rose slowly, muscles tense, and opened the door. Jonah stood there, coat damp from the rain, hair sticking slightly to his forehead. His expression was guarded, unreadable. For the first time in years, he looked… human.“What do you want?” Alex asked, keeping his voice even, though his was anxious.Jonah stepped inside, shrugging off his coat. “I came to talk. Don’t worry, I’m not here to gloat.”Alex crossed his arms. “Not here to gloat? You’ve already taken everything, Humanaut, control, leverage. What else is there for you

The hospital room felt impossibly empty. Clara’s absence hung in the air like smoke, thick, suffocating, and inescapable. Alex sat in the same chair he had occupied for the last nights, now staring at the blank walls, his hands trembling slightly. The monitors were silent, the machines gone, leaving only the memory of her presence.He closed his eyes, letting the weight of grief press down on him. He could still feel her hand in his, her voice whispering moral truths, her calm insistence that humanity mattered more than legacy, more than ambition. She had left him a world he needed to protect, but she had also left him alone.Alex opened his laptop. The glow of the screen felt harsh against his red, tired eyes. He had Humanaut’s code, Clara’s notes, her insights into ethical AI. The tools to continue their mission were here, but so was the shadow of Neonetics, Erevos, and Atlas Capital waiting for any misstep.He rubbed his face, fingers trembling. “You trusted me,” he whispered, voic

CHAPTER 70 — THE LOSSThe funeral was quiet, understated, a small gathering of Clara’s closest friends, a few hospital staff who had loved her calm presence, and Alex, standing at the edge of the room, feeling sad, untethered, and unmoored.The casket was simple, polished wood, adorned only with a single white lily. Alex ran his fingers over the smooth surface, thinking about the hands he had held, the guidance he had received, and the fierce, unshakable voice that had once steered him toward humanity. Now she was gone, and the world felt impossibly large, and unbearably empty.He could hear murmurs around him, words of condolence that felt distant, almost meaningless. “I’m so sorry…” “She was remarkable…” “You’ll carry her legacy forward…” Each syllable scraped against the raw nerve of his grief. He nodded numbly, lips pressed tight, jaw aching from holding back emotion that threatened to drown him.After the service, Alex lingered at the edge of the gravesite. The rain had stopped,