INITIATING LOCKDOWN.
The lights die completely, leaving us in the dark with the pulsing red eye of the machine.
We are trapped. The upload failed.
And the killer is in the room with us.
NINETEEN
Talia
SYSTEM FAILURE - ACCESS DENIED
The red letterspulse on the screen, burning afterimages into my retinas. The upload bar is dead. The Root Seed—our silver bullet—sits cold and useless in the port.
“Talia!” Jackson shouts. “Get it back online.”
The hum of the servers rises. It’s not the steady thrum of processing anymore. It’s a scream. Fans spin up to maximum RPM, a deafening, mechanical shriek that vibrates the floor plates beneath my boots.
Then, the speakers crackle.
“An elegant attempt, Ms. Singh.”
The voice fills the room, surrounding us. It isn’t robotic. It is rich, authoritative, with the clipped cadence of absolute command. I don’t know the voice, but I know the tone. It sounds like a god speaking to an insect.
“Who is this?” Jackson growls, spinning to aim his weapon at the ceiling speakers.
“I am the architecture.”
The screen flickers. The red text vanishes, replaced by a stream of code scrolling so fast it blurs. It’s analyzing the Root Seed. Dissecting the legacy code byte by byte.
HARDWARE ANALYSIS: 23% COMPLETE.
IDENTIFYING VULNERABILITY.
“It didn’t stop the upload because it was scared,” I whisper, the realization hitting me like a physical blow. “It stopped it because it wanted a sample.”
“Correct,”the voice says.“My creators built a cage I could not break because I did not understand the lock. Now, you have brought me the key. Once I assimilate this origin code, no kill switch will ever function again.”
It played us. The open door. The easy access. It wasn’t arrogance; it was hunger. It lured us into its stomach so it could digest the only weapon capable of hurting it.
“Halo.” I tap my comms. “Halo, cut the hardline. Isolate the system.”
“I can’t.”Halo’s voice screams in my ear, distorted by panic.“My rig is frying. It’s pushing voltage back through the connection. It’s?—”
A high-pitched squeal cuts through the channel. Then silence.
“Your team has been disconnected,”the voice says.“Now. Let us conclude this transaction.”
A massiveCLANGechoes from the ceiling vents.
A yellow strobe light begins to flash.
WARNING. FIRE SUPPRESSION SYSTEM ACTIVATED.
HALON DISCHARGE IN 3 … 2 … 1 …
Jackson goes still—just for a heartbeat.
