The drive to my father's heavily guarded estate takes forty minutes.The dark city streets are completely empty. The rain continues to fall in a steady, cold drizzle.I pull up to the massive iron gates of the St. Claire property.The night security guard shines a bright flashlight into my car window.He recognizes my face instantly and hits the button to open the gates without asking any questions.I drive up the long, winding driveway.The massive stone house looks like a dark, imposing fortress against the cloudy night sky.I unlock the heavy front door using my old security key.The house is completely silent. The expensive grandfather clock in the main hallway ticks loudly.I walk upstairs to my father's private master wing.He is not asleep. He is sitting in a heavy leather armchair by the unlit fireplace.He is wearing a thick robe, staring blankly at the dark embers.He looks up slowly when I walk into the room."Victor," Elias says. His voice is raspy from disuse."It is four

I drive directly from the cheap diner to the private clinic. The morning traffic is slow and heavy with rain. My hands grip the steering wheel tightly.I need to get my mother out of the city. She is a prime target for the Architects. They took a photo of her in the garden just yesterday.I park my car near the back entrance of the clinic. I do not bother checking in at the front desk. I walk straight through the side doors and head for her private suite.She is already awake when I walk into her room. She is sitting in a comfortable chair by the window, reading a thick book. She looks up and sees the raw tension on my face instantly."Victor," she says, closing her book. "What is wrong?""You need to pack a small bag right now, Mom," I tell her. I keep my voice low and urgent. "You cannot stay here. It is not safe anymore."She does not panic. She just looks at me closely. "Did Julian Blackwood escape custody?" she asks calmly."It is not Julian," I say, stepping closer to her chair.

I drive to a cheap, rundown motel on the far industrial edge of the city. The paint on the building is peeling badly. The neon sign out front is buzzing and missing three letters. It is the exact kind of place where people go when they want to be invisible.I walk up the exterior concrete stairs to room number four. I knock on the door using the specific, heavy pattern Adekunle and I agreed on.I hear a deadbolt slide back. The door opens an inch. Adekunle looks through the crack. He looks exhausted and furious. He pulls the door open wider and gestures for me to step inside quickly.The small motel room smells like stale smoke and cheap cleaning chemicals. Adekunle has a thick burner laptop set up on the wobbly wooden desk. There are empty coffee cups scattered everywhere."This is an absolute nightmare, Victor," he says, pacing the short length of the stained carpet. "I spent five years building that news platform. Five years of bleeding for every single subscriber." He waves his ha

I park my car exactly six blocks away from the abandoned meatpacking district. It is eleven-thirty at night. The city air is freezing and thick with fog.I leave my cell phone locked inside the glove compartment. I do not want any active signals broadcasting my location.I open the dark trunk and pull out the heavy black duffel bag. I sling the strap over my shoulder. The weight of the weapon inside feels strangely comforting.I walk slowly through the dark, empty streets. The old brick buildings here look like massive, decaying teeth against the night sky. There are no civilians around. The streets are completely dead.I approach the target warehouse from the rear alleyway. Adekunle was right. The building looks totally abandoned from the outside. The windows are boarded up with thick rotting wood. The loading dock doors are covered in heavy graffiti.But I can hear a low, steady humming sound vibrating through the wet brick walls.

I drive aimlessly through the dark city streets for twenty minutes.I need to put distance between myself and the meatpacking district.I need to make sure Alice is not actively tracking my vehicle.My left shoulder aches terribly from the brutal recoil of the shotgun.My clothes are soaked with cold sweat and freezing rain.I pull into an empty, poorly lit parking lot behind a closed grocery store.I turn off the engine and lean my head against the steering wheel.I pull up the interface in my mind.I am still alive.But I am running out of time, and I am running out of resources.I open my glove compartment and grab my cheap burner phone.I dial Adekunle's private number. He answers on the first ring."Did you do it?" he asks urgently. "Did you blow up the server farm?""I triggered a massive blackout and destroyed their local cooling systems," I tell him, breathing heavily."But it did not blind her completely. She is s