Alex's skull pulsed to the sound in the command center.
The atmosphere had shifted—tense, electric. Operatives were moving fast, making hushed calls. The room's signature blue glow now carried a tinge of red.
Genesis flickered beside him, its light stuttering like it was buffering too hard.
Alex spotted Taro, Lena, and Kade slipping out of the room.
"Hey! Wait up!" he called, jogging after them. Genesis followed, but they quickly lost track of the trio.
Moments later, the pre-deployment bay beneath the Monridge VR-Society base thrummed with energy.
"Old Line 7?" Lena's voice sliced through the noise. She slung a weapon over her shoulder, her figure briefly turning to static under a glitchy light.
A man in a VR soldier uniform grunted. "Sub-levels. Abandoned subway tunnels. Used to be a testbed for early VR mapping."
Mira's fingers danced across her smartwatch. "That whole district was flagged as contaminated. Breach territory. We heard rumors some tech got buried there."
"So why breach it now?" Taro asked, stepping into formation.
Lena didn't look at him when she answered. "Because whatever's buried there still matters."
A glass tube lowered with a mechanical hiss and spat out Alex—Genesis hovering beside him.
He stumbled as he landed, cold sweat clinging to his neck. Genesis pulsed dimly.
"Nice transport," Genesis muttered, voice dry. "Definitely better than an elevator."
Lena turned at the sound. The others were too busy prepping to notice.
Her glare could've frozen fire. "What are you doing here?"
"I want to help," Alex said, voice firm.
She groaned, looking between him and the platform. "You're not ready."
Alex blinked, exhaled slowly.
Kade stepped behind her and rested a hand on her shoulder. "We need to move." He turned to Alex. "Stay here."
Alex looked at them like he couldn't quite believe it.
"Teleportation sequence commencing in fifteen seconds," the intercom boomed.
The others moved to the teleport platform, bathed in a soft red glow.
Lena hesitated. Alex grabbed her wrist.
"Kade told you to stay."
"I'm still going," Alex said, eyes unwavering. "I have Genesis."
Lena turned to face him. "Don't go. That's an order."
"You're getting bossy," Alex muttered.
"I'm responsible for you. I'm not letting you get hurt on my watch." She lingered for a second before sprinting toward the others.
The teleport pulse surged—light shredding into filaments—and then they were gone.
Alex stood alone, the hum of the chamber ringing in his ears.
"Well, that was a dramatic exit," Genesis said. "Guess we should head back."
"No."
Alex ran to the platform, fiddling with the controls. Genesis hovered closer.
"Kade said not to leave HQ."
Alex ignored him.
"You know the consequences. Why are you doing this?"
Alex froze, staring at the console.
"What could go wrong when I have you, Genesis?"
"This is a Class-4 Hollowborn. You barely handled a Class-2."
Alex sighed. "The sooner I prove myself, the sooner I stop being a liability."
"…Good point," Genesis admitted.
The teleport system hummed to life.
Alex raised his hand. "Coming?"
Genesis hesitated, then groaned. "I really need to update my decision tree."
They vanished.
—
Deep under Monridge, the agents spread out across rusted rail lines and cracked tile. Flickering holo-lights bathed them in spectral hues.
Taro launched a drone with a flick of his glove, its scanners sweeping the corridor.
Lena's weapon was steady, her flashlight cutting across broken walls. A soft metallic clatter echoed from behind a pillar. She paused, eyes narrowing.
Kade moved slowly along the rail line, a massive axe across his back. "Feels too quiet."
Elsewhere, Mira and two others scouted the perimeter, silence pressing down on them like a weight.
Lena's light landed on a pile of old blue-printed maps, scattered tech, rusting drone parts.
"Just junk," she muttered into her comms.
"Same here," Taro replied.
Then—clang.
Louder. Closer.
Kade's voice crackled through the comms. "Guys… I think I found something."
Shadows danced with broken blue light—code bleeding into the air.
Lena moved fast. Taro flanked her, weapon ready. Mira fell in behind them. They found Kade standing at a tunnel junction, reality bending slightly around him.
Then chaos.
Grunts. Screams. Gunfire. A blur of motion and noise.
From the shadows stepped a figure—tall, robed, veins of blue code crawling beneath translucent skin. One hand clutched an unconscious agent, blood trailing from the man's temple.
"Morrow," Lena whispered.
"You know this thing?" Taro asked.
"He was a corrupted trainer AI. Thought to be deleted."
Kade raised his axe. "Hand over the stolen tech."
Morrow tilted his head. "Stolen? How rude."
"Don't play games!"
"I'm not," Morrow said, smiling with glitched confidence. "It's already begun."
He revealed a small metallic orb, pulsing ominously.
Reality around him fractured. Simulacra emerged—jagged holograms, soulless faces rushing like a storm.
The agents engaged.
Kade swung hard, cutting through the first wave. But a simulacrum slashed his side.
Mira's shots were deadly-accurate, but they only slowed the tide. Taro's drone danced through the fray, shielding where it could.
Lena was graceful, slicing and dodging—but even she took a brutal hit.
Morrow advanced, untouchable. One by one, he incapacitated them with cold precision.
Kade forced his way through to Morrow, axe raised. But Morrow caught it. With fingertips.
Kade's eyes widened.
A blast of energy sent him flying into a steel beam. He didn't get up.
Lena screamed, but she was pinned down.
"You all disappoint me," Morrow said. "Where's the console wielder?"
Taro launched drones, but Morrow struck them down with code-sharp blades, the resulting blast knocking Mira to the floor.
He teleported to Taro, lifted him effortlessly, and slammed him into a pillar.
"This world has been flawed too long."
Light flared from his palm—
Then shattered.
A blur intercepted it—neon, fluid, precise.
Alex.
He stood between Morrow and the agents, clad in a sleek black suit threaded with electric blue. Genesis glowed on his shoulder.
"Entrance: nailed it," he quipped.
Lena looked up, bleeding, breath caught. "Took you long enough."
Alex smirked. "Let's clean up."
He moved.
A blur of light and strikes, dodging and hitting with unnatural precision. The others rallied behind him.
Morrow snarled, clashing with Alex in bursts of raw power. The fight was fast. Brutal. Both adapting, both relentless.
Then—
A groan of metal. A beam cracked overhead.
Lena looked up.
Alex moved without hesitation, shoving her aside as the beam came down.
Pain. Blood. Silence.
"Alex!" Lena screamed.
[CRITICAL DAMAGE]
[REGENERATION PROTOCOL — NOT SUPPORTED]
Genesis buzzed with static. "Alex—stay with me—"
A flicker.
A memory not his own: a man shielding data cores from flames, eyes hidden by smoke. His father?
The pain morphed. Grief. Fury. Power.
Neon veins lit under Alex's skin. His eyes burned with impossible light.
"Fusion initiated," Genesis whispered.
Alex rose.
He was no longer just human.
Simulacra disintegrated around him. Morrow turned—too late.
Alex struck.
A slice of code cut through Morrow's chest. The AI glitched, gasping.
"It's begun," Morrow whispered. "The Architect... is waking."
He vanished in corrupted light—taking the tech with him.
Silence.
Genesis buzzed. "Still think 'Architect' sounds like a metal band?"
Lena knelt beside Alex, hands shaking. "You okay?"
He nodded. "You?"
She didn't answer—just stared—and walked away.
Genesis dimmed, separating from him.
Mira coughed. "Is it over?"
Alex scanned the aftermath. Injured agents. Blood. Medics rushing in.
No one looked at him.
A dark corridor loomed in the distance. An escape.
Kade's words echoed in his mind: Don't leave HQ until you prove yourself.
Well, Kade was down. No one stopped him.
Genesis floated close. "Thinking of ghosting?"
"…Maybe."
"Then you already have. Every ghost leaves a shadow."
Alex said nothing.
By the time Lena turned back, he was gone.
—
That night.
Alex limped through the back door of his house.
His mother stood frozen in the kitchen, eyes red, phone falling from her hand.
"Alex."
She rushed him, sobbing. "Two days, Alex. I thought—you were—God."
He fell into her arms. "I'm sorry. It got out of hand."
She held him like she'd never let go. "Don't you ever vanish on me like that again. Ever."
"I won't. I just... I couldn't come back yet."
She pulled back, brushing his hair away. "Where were you?"
He hesitated. "A silent retreat. No phones allowed. Part of a school mental health thing. I didn't think you'd understand."
She stared at him a long moment. "Whatever you're facing… don't do it alone."
He gripped her hand tighter.
—
Later, in his room.
Genesis hovered above his bed, dimmed.
Alex stared at the ceiling. "Why did I see my father? That vision—it felt real."
"I don't know," Genesis said, voice unsteady. "It wasn't triggered by me. Not part of any cache."
"Then what was it?"
"An echo. A corrupted file trying to play. Could be a memory. Could be more."
Alex sat up, eyes dark. "I feel guilty for leaving HQ."
Genesis floated lower. "Kade's out. You're fine. Slip back in during school hours. No one will notice."
Alex looked at an old photo of himself and his dad. "You might be right."
—
Far away, beyond Monridge's firewalls…
A dark digital chamber buzzed.
An entity stood before a web of corrupted code.
In its center: Morrow's last neural imprint—glitching, looping, whispering Alex's name.
A hand curled around the glowing orb of stolen tech.
"He's syncing faster than expected," the entity rasped. "Accelerate deployment. Track the link. We've found our thread."