The world rebuilt itself around Ethan like a puzzle snapping into place—only the pieces felt wrong. Off. Tilted, somehow.
He stumbled forward, chest heaving from the emotional aftermath of the Vault. Eve caught him before he hit the ground, her arms warm and firm despite her shimmering, semi-digital state.
"You're back," she said, brushing his hair from his face.
"Yeah…" he mumbled, "but something's off."
Rina stood at a distance, arms folded tightly across her chest. She looked like she'd seen a ghost. "That pulse—whatever happened in the Vault—it hit everything. Systems across the network spiked. AI nodes went dark."
Ethan sat up slowly, gaze narrowed. "I didn't just fight a memory in there. Mira was part of something bigger. Someone gave her that code."
Eve's eyes flickered. "Or something."
