THE GLASS GOD: Heir of the living Grid

CHAPTER 5: THE FIRST COMMANDMENTS

"Up! Get to the vents!" I roared over the screeching metal.

The blast door was a mangled wreck, and the thing behind it—a shadow of gears and cold intent—was stepping through the smoke.

"The vents? Elion, you can barely walk!" Lyra screamed, dodging a spray of sparks as a ceiling tile collapsed.

"I’m not walking," I gritted out. I grabbed her hand, and the moment our skin met, a surge of golden heat bypassed the dampener collar. The magnetic locks on my gurney didn't just click; they vaporized. I lunged for the maintenance hatch above the primary terminal.

"Hey! The specimen is moving!" the squad leader yelled, raising his rifle.

I didn't think. I looked at the security camera mounted above his head. I didn't just see the lens; I saw the stream of data it was feeding to the Crown’s network. *Mute,* my mind commanded.

The camera's red eye flickered and died. The monitor in the leader's hand went to static.

"What did you do?" he barked, fumbling with his gear. "The feed is dead! I can't see him!"

"I'm right here, you coward!" I shouted. I jumped, my fingers catching the edge of the vent. My muscles felt like they were being threaded with live wire. I hauled Lyra up behind me just as a volley of pulse-rounds shredded the floor where we had been standing.

"In! Now!" I shoved her into the cramped, galvanized steel tunnel.

"It’s too tight, Elion! We’re trapped if they come up here!"

"They won't," I said, crawling behind her. Every light in the hallway below us began to pop, one by one, as I dragged my hand across the vent’s surface, shorting the circuitry of the entire wing by mere proximity.

"Your eyes," Lyra whispered, her face inches from mine in the dark. "They aren't just glowing. They're... scrolling. There’s code in your pupils."

I blinked, and suddenly, a translucent blue bar flickered across my retinas.

**[ NEURAL LOAD: 88% ]**

A stabbing pain bloomed behind my temples. It felt like someone was pouring boiling lead into my ear canal.

"Elion? You're shaking," Lyra grabbed my shoulders. "Talk to me!"

"My brain..." I gasped, clutched my head. "It’s overheating. It’s too much data. The building... I can feel every elevator, every lightbulb, every heartbeat. It’s pushing me out."

The realization hit me with the force of a physical blow. I wasn't a man recovering from an injury. I was a biological casing for a power source that was rapidly outgrowing its container.

I wasn't a hero. I was just a battery with a name.

"89 percent," I muttered, the blue bar creeping upward. "If it hits a hundred, my brain is going to melt into soup."

"Then stop! Stop looking at the tech!"

"I can't! It’s like breathing! I—"

A mechanical howl echoed through the vents, a sound of grinding metal and digital hunger.

"What was that?" Lyra gasped, her eyes wide.

"They sent the Hounds," I whispered. I could feel their signatures—jagged, predatory frequencies moving through the walls. "We have to get to the roof. The air... maybe the cooling will drop the load."

"This way!" Lyra scrambled forward, kicking out a grate that led to the service stairwell.

We burst onto the landing, three floors up. The air was thick with the smell of burning ozone.

"There! The rooftop access!" Lyra pointed to a heavy steel door bathed in the red glow of the emergency strobes.

"Wait," I choked out, stumbling. My vision was swimming.

**[ NEURAL LOAD: 92% ]**

The pain was a physical weight now. "Lyra, if I don't make it... if I hit the limit..."

"Shut up, Elion! You made it nine months as a corpse, you aren't dying now!" She grabbed the collar of my gown and hauled me toward the door. She threw her weight against the emergency bar.

The door swung open, and the freezing night air hit us like a bucket of ice water. We stumbled out onto the gravel-covered roof of the hospital, the city of the Circuit Crown sprawling beneath us—a neon graveyard of skyscrapers and floating advertisements.

"We're out," Lyra breathed, looking at the ledge. "We just have to find a way down."

"We aren't out," I said, my voice flat.

I could hear the scratching of metal claws on the brickwork. I could hear the whine of high-frequency sensors.

From the shadows of the cooling towers, six shapes emerged. They were the size of wolves, but their bodies were made of interlocking carbon-fiber plates. Instead of eyes, they had rotating sensor arrays that pulsed with a sickening violet light.

"Signal-Hounds," Lyra whispered, backing toward the edge of the roof. "They don't track scent. They track the frequency."

"Target acquired," the Hounds’ collective hive-mind broadcasted into my head. The sound was like a thousand needles pricking my brain.

**[ NEURAL LOAD: 95% ]**

The lead Hound stepped forward, its jaw unhinging to reveal a sonic disruptor. The air around its muzzle began to ripple.

"Elion, do something!" Lyra screamed. "Mute them! Short them out!"

"I can't..." I slumped to my knees, blood beginning to leak from my nose. "The load... if I touch them, I'll hit a hundred. I'll die."

"If you don't, we both die!"

The Hounds fanned out, circling us with calculated, robotic precision. Their violet sensors locked onto the golden glow in my chest, which was now pulsing erratically, lighting up the rooftop like a dying star.

The lead Hound let out a low, electronic growl, its disruptor humming at a frequency designed to shatter bone.

"Elion, look at me!" Lyra knelt in front of me, blocking my view of the machines. "Don't look at the network. Look at me. Just me."

I tried to focus on her face, but the blue bar was all I could see.

**[ NEURAL LOAD: 98% ]**

One more command. One more surge. That was all it would take to end me.

The Hounds lunged.