Line sixty. Line sixty-one.
Error: Buffer overflow. Clear cache and retry.
"No!"
I clear the cache. Retry. The screen flickers. Goes dark. Comes back.
Line sixty-one again. Line sixty-two.
Thorne's shoulders are shaking. Small tremors. His face is reddening, the blood vessels straining. Two minutes without oxygen, and his body is screaming.
Line sixty-three. Line sixty-four. Line sixty-five.
Two and a half minutes.
Warning: Anomalous input detected. Verify source.
Phoenix is suspicious. Not understanding yet. It can't understand; the framework is designed to be indistinguishablefrom valid ASHFALL data. But it's slowing me down. Throwing up barriers. Fighting.
I verify. I confirm. I keep typing.
Line sixty-seven. Line sixty-eight.
Three minutes.
Thorne sinks to the floor.
The motion is controlled. Deliberate. He's not collapsing. He's conserving energy, reducing his oxygen needs, doing everything he can to buy me more time. But his face is gray. His lips are darkening. Three minutes without air and the human body starts to fail.
Line seventy. Line seventy-one.
I want to stop. I want to rip off this mask and give it back to him. I want to tell him that Lily needs her father more than she needs a math teacher, that the debt I owe isn't worth his life, that I can't watch another person die because of what I built.
But my fingers keep moving. Because he's right. Because the upload has to finish. Because four thousand people have nanites in their blood, and Lily is one of them.
If I stop now, Phoenix wins.
Three and a half minutes.
Line seventy-three. Line seventy-four.
Error: Recursive reference detected. Confirm intentional loop structure.
Yes. Yes, it's intentional. That's the whole point. That's the trap.
I confirm. I keep typing.
Line seventy-six. Line seventy-seven.
Four minutes.
Thorne's body hits the floor.
Not controlled this time. A collapse.
Four minutes without air and he's unconscious.
Four minutes without air and he's dying.
