The machinescreams.
Not a mechanical whine. Not a system overload. This is rage. This is pain. This is something that has known endless centuries of being used, buried, rewired, worshipped—and now it’s being ended. The sound claws into my eardrums and digs down into my molars, a low harmonic shriek that makes my spine feel like it’s vibrating apart.
Pipes burst along the ceiling, raining sparks and fluid. I duck, instinctive, but I don’t run. I force my eyes back on the node, blinking through smoke and light, watching as the energybuilds. It’s moving through the conduits faster than I expected. Not surging—screaming. Down every tunnel, through every chamber, tearing the old systems apart like it’s trying to rip out its own veins before we can.
I turn back toward the fallback path, limping hard. My side burns, torn open from shrapnel. Every breath is wet with heat and copper. I hear footsteps—too many, too fast—and think maybe the Nine made it here first. But then I hear her voice.
“Tur!”
Kimberly.
She’s close. I try to answer, but my lungs seize up and I can’t get the words out. I stumble through the hallway, hand on the wall, trying to orient myself toward her, but the smoke blinds me. My claws drag grooves into the wall as I move. The metal is hot, warping, the old Reaper structure fighting to hold together under the load.
“Tur, talk to me—where are you?!”
“Fallback route!” I gasp. “Go—now!”
She doesn’t. Of course she doesn’t.
I catch sight of her through the fog—her silhouette, rifle slung behind her back, mouth moving around another curse. Her eyes land on me and she half-lurches forward.
“We’re not dying here!” she shouts.
I laugh, or maybe it’s just a noise that rips out of me.
“I’m not dying,” I tell her. “I’m finishing it.”
She reaches me just as another conduit explodes behind us, sending both of us sprawling. Her hands are on my chest, checking for wounds, ignoring the blood. Mine, hers—it’s all the same now.
“You triggered the full burn?” she demands, panting.
“Had to.”
“Youdecidedto.”
“Someone had to,” I grit. “This thing can’t be salvaged. It’s not a weapon. It’s adisease.”
She shakes her head, wild. “You should’ve told me.”
“I couldn’t risk you stopping me.”
“You’re an idiot,” she breathes, pressing her forehead to mine for just one second. “I would’ve helped you burn the whole planet if you asked.”
I choke on a laugh. “I know.”
The ground convulses beneath us. That’s not hyperbole. Itconvulses. Like something under the city is twisting to snap the spine of the world. I grab her arm, haul her upright, and we move—limping, dragging, bleeding.
Behind us, the node collapses inward.
There’s no explosion. Not like a bomb. More like gravity just fails for a second. Apull, sudden and absolute. Wind rushes into the void left behind. Light vanishes, swallowed in one pulse. The walls implode.
And then we’re running. Or trying to.
I lose track of time.
I remember falling.
I remember fire licking the ceiling like it’s alive.
