But I know. I don’t know.
I grip the railing. The metal is slick with condensation. I can taste salt in the air.
I close my eyes and think of the scar above my brow. I trace it with memory. I trace her lips. I trace Nessa’s laugh.
Enough.
This fight ends tomorrow morning.
And when it does, I’ll carry a name I never thought I’d bear again:Dad.
______________________________________________________________________________
The corridor’s lights flicker. Cold steel walls hum with soft resonance—an undercurrent of power running just below my boots. I can taste the tang of ozone, hear the faint hiss of cooling ducts. Rynn stands beside me; the drive in her hand glowssoftly, red label catching the pale light. The server room door ahead swings open with a hiss and we step across the threshold together.
Inside, the air hits me like a wall. It smells of burnt plastic, overheated circuits, and tired metal. Panels line the walls in tiered racks, LEDs blinking in constant rhythm—green, amber, scarlet—like an old war zone’s hell-lights. Wires snake overhead, drop to consoles, coil around backs of machines like backup power skins. A fan whirs just above my head, spinning fast enough to feel its breath. I take a slow breath through my nose. The air’s dry, tight; it feels like a strap around my throat.
Rynn moves ahead to a terminal. Her gloves brush keys lightly—soft clicks that echo strangely in the stillness. I step beside her, hand on the console’s edge; the metal is cold under my palm. I lean in, close enough to hear her breath. “Kael’s rerouting power now,” voice in my earpiece. Drel adds: “Encryption loop live. Node ready.”
I nod without voice. My gaze flicks to the racks—a cathedral of memory, surveillance logs, buried files, secrets nobody ever intended to wake. I press my shoulder lightly against Rynn’s back. She stiffens for a fraction, then breathes out. I smell her, close: filtration mask scent, antiseptic soap, a trace of coffee.
“Ready?” I ask softly.
Rynn types three keys in sequence, turns to me. “Whenever you are.”
I swallow. The hum of the racks seems to pulse. I lean closer. “No matter what happens after this,” I say, voice low but firm, “you and Nessa are mine.” My palm slides up the metal panel behind us; I feel the faint vibration in the wall. “That’s not a hope. It’s a vow.”
Her head tilts. The light catches her eyes—amber pools in a sea of pale skin. A flicker of emotion passes: fear, love, tireddetermination. She doesn’t speak. Instead she lifts the drive, her gloved fingers curling around the edges.
I step closer. My ribs ache from long runs, my arm hums with buried wounds. But I feel new heat—raw, bright. I cup her cheek gently, pressing my thumb against the shell of her glove. “Come back to me.”
She meets my gaze, silent. Barely a breath later, she leans in. The kiss: slow, tender, full of want and relief and regret all braided together. I feel her lips soft and warm. My armor plates clang faintly under the weight of the moment. My cybernetic hand, heavy with servo-whirr, lifts and finds the curve of her neck. I taste her: faint chocolate, filtered air, sweat. Around us the servers blink on. A rack above shows a red ALERT flash momentarily—then green again.
We part. She breathes ragged, her hair falling forward in dark strands. I brush it back. “Now.”
Her fingers tighten on the drive. I step aside, give her room. I reach out and guide her hand to the port in the rack. The connector slots in just so. A small click, then a quiet hum. The green light on the module pulses. Data begins to flow. A soft whine builds in the room, monitors flicker, fans ramp up. I feel the floor vibrate. My vision flickers—system overload in progress.
Behind us the corridor door’s sealed, but I don’t look. I look at Rynn. She glances at me with a fierce, trembling smile.
“We’re live,” she whispers.
I nod. I lean in and brush a final kiss over her temple. “We’re together.”
And then the drive locks in. The servers swallow the code. The node is triggered.
The lights blink faster. The hum crescendos. I press my forehead to her, smell the ozone, the sharp metal, the taste ofmidnight. My whole body is taut. The moment hangs—charged, bright.
And here, in the heart of racks and secrets and half-destroyed data streams, I hold her. The world outside waits; truth is set free.
CHAPTER 26
RYNN
The data upload completes with a sound that shouldn’t make my stomach drop—just a neat littleping—but every nerve in me hears it as a detonation.
For half a heartbeat, nothing happens. The command deck hums in its ordinary rhythm: consoles breathing light, recyclers sighing, the steady low bass of power running under the floor. Then the lights quiver, a static tremor rippling through the air like the whole station just flinched.
Drel looks up from the secondary terminal. “Did it?—?”
