The alarms in Irina’s private laboratory screamed with a high-pitched, deafening wail that vibrated right through the soles of Dimas’s boots. The primary terminal on his workbench was flashing a bright, hostile red, casting a jagged, bloody glow over the shattered glass of the display monitors."Dimas! Talk to me! The scanners are lighting up like a holiday festival!" Irina’s voice blasted through the PA system, followed immediately by the hiss of the heavy glass doors sliding open as she ran into the room."I don’t know! I tried to pull the master cables, but they’re completely fused!" Dimas yelled back, shielding his face as a spray of white-hot sparks erupted from the console. "The system is drawing power directly from my arm! I can’t let go!""Step back!" Irina commanded, drawing a sleek kinetic pistol from her coat and aiming it at the power coupling."No, don't shoot it!" Dimas screamed, his eyes wide with panic. "If you break the circu

"Get off me! Let go!" Dimas screamed, his voice scraping against the dry walls of the empty workshop.His right hand was fused to the workbench, his fingers clamped around the jagged, clockwork sphere. The cold was a physical, violent thing, a freezing current rushing up his forearm and straight toward his collarbone."I warned you, little spark," Odin’s voice echoed behind his eyes, dripping with dark amusement. "You cannot outsmart a divine relic with grease and a soldering iron. It is eating you.""Shut up, Odin! Just tell me how to turn this thing off!" Dimas yelled, his teeth clattering together."I cannot," Odin replied, his tone turning cold. "You chose this path. You refused the mantle of my champion. Now the Weaver will take what it requires to sustain its damaged matrix. It is simple math, child.""I don't believe in your math!" Dimas gasped, his knees buckling.He sagged against the table, his free left hand clawi

Dimas pulled his hood tight against the freezing downpour. The toxic rain hissed as it hit his worn canvas pack, where the Core-Weaver clicked softly with a steady, warm rhythm."This rain is getting worse, Odin," Dimas muttered, his boots sinking into the thick grey sludge of the alleyway. "I can barely see five feet in front of my face.""You complain about a little water, little spark?" Odin’s voice vibrated directly behind his eyes, heavy with dry irritation. "Focus on the path. The Enforcers will not wait for the storm to clear.""Yeah, I know," Dimas sighed, turning down a narrow, rusted corridor. "Drainage shaft forty-two. It should be past the old smelting plant. If I remember the scrap maps, it's blocked by a security gate.""A gate of steel is nothing to the flame in your blood," Odin said, his tone shifting to a calculating hum. "But keep your voice down. These dead streets have ears.""Nobody is out here in the forbidden zone, Odin," Dimas whispered, climbing over a heap o

"How much time do we have?" Dimas yelled as a thick cloud of plaster dust rained from the trembling vault ceiling. "Not enough," Silas muttered, his thumb frantically tapping the cracked screen of his radar pad. "They're already at the upper vestibule. They're rigging thermite charges on the main hatch." "Give me a real number, Silas! Stop dodging the question!" "Two minutes, maybe less!" Silas snapped, looking up with wild, desperate eyes. "They're not just some street gang, kid. This is the First Regent's personal guard. They have tactical dampeners and active sonar!" "Two minutes?" Dimas wiped a streak of greasy sweat from his forehead. "I need at least ten to map this junk grid and seal the backup doors!" "We don't have ten!" Silas yelled, grabbing his plasma rifle with shaking hands. "We have to run! There's an old service pipe behind the main generator that leads deeper int

The tunnels of the lower drainage system were a suffocating labyrinth of slick metal, dripping condensation, and the omnipresent, sour stench of recycled waste. Dimas stumbled through the gloom, his boots skidding on the algae-covered grating. Beside him, Silas limped, his hand pressed firmly against his wounded shoulder."Easy, kid. You're moving too fast," Silas hissed, his face twisted in pain as he navigated a narrow transition pipe. "We don't need a broken ankle to go with that bullet hole.""We need to get to the slums before the sun hits the mid-tier transit hubs," Dimas said, his voice tight. "If they start a sector-wide lockdown, every scavenger in the ward is going to be a suspect. I can't put those people at risk.""They're already at risk," Silas countered, leaning against a rusted junction. "The moment we blew that tunnel, we painted a target on every doorway from here to the surface. You're worried about them? Worry about keeping that core quiet."Dimas glanced down at h