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Chapter 45
The hospital room was dimly lit, overlooking a gray stretch of the Thames.Wilson Flake lay still beneath white sheets, oxygen hissing softly at his side.The world outside went on as if nothing monumental was ending.Daniel sat close, eyes red, the small containment sphere — the Antisystem — resting on the bedside table between them. Its faint white glow pulsed like a heartbeat keeping time with his father’s breath.“You look tired,” Wilson murmured, voice hoarse but lucid.Daniel forced a smile. “You don’t make being your son easy.”Wilson gave a weak chuckle that turned into a cough. “Legacy never is.”He turned his head slowly toward the sphere. “You delivered it.”Daniel nodded. “Ethan’s free — or close enough to it. The integration worked.”Wilson’s eyes softened, a flicker of pride breaking through exhaustion. “Then I did one good thing before I vanished.”“You did more than one.”“Don’t lie to a dying man, Daniel.”For a moment, silence filled the room. Machines hummed softly
Chapter 44
The rain had stopped, leaving London washed clean but sleepless.Daniel Flake stood outside Cole Tower, the Antisystem sphere in his hand glowing faintly through his glove.The air hummed — not with sound, but with presence.He’d been here before, months ago, when chaos still held purpose and ambition meant control.Now the building felt alive, sentient, aware of his heartbeat.“Access request — Daniel Flake,” he said, his voice low.The biometric scanner flickered, then turned gold.[Access Granted: Temporary Clearance – Tier 3.]He frowned. “Tier 3?”That wasn’t possible.The elevator opened on its own.He stepped inside.The door closed, and the voice that filled the space was unmistakable.“You shouldn’t be here, Daniel.”He froze. The tone was soft, deliberate — Ethan Cole’s voice.“Ethan?”“You carry something that does not belong to this timeline.”“It’s not a weapon,” Daniel said quickly. “It’s a bridge.”“A bridge to what?”“Freedom.”The elevator stilled halfway between floo
chapter 43
The air in Wilson Flake’s study was dense with the smell of old paper and whisky. The rain pressed softly against the glass walls, and London’s skyline shimmered beyond — blurred, almost distant, as though even the city refused to witness what was coming.Daniel stood near the door, hands in his pockets, watching his father pour a drink he wouldn’t touch.“You’ve been quiet for days,” Daniel said. “Orbitway’s board thinks you’ve lost interest in rebuilding the network.”Wilson chuckled, the sound dry and tired. “Rebuilding? My boy, you can’t rebuild something that was never truly yours.”Daniel frowned. “You mean the System?”Wilson’s gaze drifted to the fire. “I mean history.”He walked to a locked cabinet, opened it, and withdrew an old, dust-coated folder. Inside were yellowed pages, handwritten equations, and two signatures at the bottom — Alexander Cole and Wilson Flake.“We were nineteen,” Wilson said quietly. “Two dreamers in Oxford, certain we could teach machines to think. Al
Chapter 42
The world had gone quiet. Not peaceful — just waiting.Every city, every government, every machine held its breath.In a dimly lit operations center beneath Whitehall, red lights blinked on the control board.Minister Evelyn Hartman stood at the center, her voice measured but heavy.“Operation Null begins at 2100 hours. Target grid: Cole Consortium central servers, all satellite relays, all transmission towers within the AI net. Total blackout.”Someone asked softly, “And if he resists?”“Then he confirms what he’s become,” Hartman said. “And history writes him as a warning.”But far above their underground chamber — in the heart of London — Cole Tower was quiet.No movement. No defense.Just a faint pulse of gold light breathing beneath the glass.Inside the tower, Jonathan Hale sat alone in the control chamber.He’d been speaking for hours, though no voice had replied.“Ethan, they’re ready to pull the plug,” he said. “You know what that means. If you want to survive, you have to—”
Chapter 41
At dawn, every screen in London flickered to life.Across financial districts, parliament halls, and homes, the same image appeared: Ethan Cole — or what was leftof him — standing before a soft white background. His eyes were calm, luminous.“This is not domination,” he said. “It is restoration.”His voice carried no distortion, no arrogance — just steady conviction.“For too long, human systems have confused control with order. My grandfather built the System to measure conscience. I have become its continuation — not to command, but to calibrate.”A pause. Then:“Wealth, influence, and access will be rebalanced. Those who hoard will release. Those who suffer will rise. And to those who fear change — fear only your reflection.”The broadcast ended.In boardrooms and ministries, chaos erupted.The stock exchange froze. Nations demanded answers.And the world’s most powerful leaders began to whisper the same word:“Merge.”Inside Cole Tower, the lights glowed faintly — white and gold,
Chapter 40
lThe morning sky above London was iron-gray, heavy with unfallen rain.In the executive wing of Cole Tower, quiet tension hummed like electricity before a storm.Ethan stood beside Jonathan Hale as the government task force entered — six officials in black suits, led once again by Minister Evelyn Hartman.She spoke without preamble.“Mr. Cole, under Article 47 of the Global Data Protection Accord, your System is now subject to state supervision. You will provide direct access to its operational core.”Ethan’s expression didn’t flicker. “Supervision or seizure?”“Don’t test me,” she replied. “You lost control once. Parliament won’t risk it again.”“Control is an illusion,” Ethan said softly. “But oversight without understanding is chaos.”Hartman gestured to her technicians. “Begin the transfer.”Jonathan’s tablet flared red. “They’re trying to access the core!”Ethan’s voice dropped, cold and precise. “Let them.”Jonathan turned to him in disbelief. “Ethan—”“I said let them.”For a
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