The world was no longer asleep.
NeuroLift had spread like wildfire, and Julian had fanned the flames with quiet precision. Digital whisper-networks now connected underground hubs from Osaka to Bogotá. Remote learning dens. Modular enhancement labs. Crowdsourced innovation teams. All working in sync, free of corporate chains.
It wasn't a rebellion anymore.
It was a movement.
Julian stood at the center of it, not as a leader—but as a spark.
And sparks attract attention.
"There's been a breach," Vessa said, storming into the ops bay. "One of our relay points in the Outer Ridge just went dark. No sign of life. No transmissions. Just… silence."
"Corporate?" Julian asked.
Nyra frowned, reading a ghost-scan. "No bots. No tracers. Just one signal. Organic. Fast. Clean kill patterns."
Julian's eyes narrowed. "Show me."
On the wall, a 3D reconstruction appeared—thermal echoes of a humanoid form moving through the outpost like a blade of wind. Walls scorched. Neurons burned out mid-sync. A surgical strike, executed with biological efficiency.
Vessa spoke quietly. "They didn't send drones this time."
"They sent a person," Nyra added. "One of their 'Whisper Agents.' But this one's… different."
Julian turned toward the gear room. "Prep my gear."
Vessa raised an eyebrow. "You're going to the site?"
"I need to know what we're facing. If they're making enhanced humans—like I am—they might've cracked parts of the Protocol."
Nyra stepped in front of him. "You're the most valuable target on Earth right now. If this is a trap—"
Julian held her gaze. "That's exactly why I need to spring it first."
He arrived at the Outer Ridge hours later, beneath an artificial dusk sky.
The outpost was silent. The walls still smoked with molecular burns. Charred neural links dangled like severed nerves. It wasn't just a hit—it was a message.
As Julian knelt beside a destroyed server core, his System pulsed.
[Unknown Signal Detected…]
[Cognitive Signature Identified — Project G.R.I.M.]
[WARNING: Subject is optimized to counter Ascendancy Protocol]
His breath caught.
They didn't just want to stop him.
They had built something specifically to kill him.
It struck without sound.
One second, Julian was scanning residual data. The next, a shadow surged from the far wall—moving faster than his eyes could register. He rolled backward instinctively, feeling the air split beside his cheek as a razor-thin blade passed within millimeters.
The assassin landed silently.
No visible tech. No helmet. Just a tall figure in a matte-black suit, eyes glowing with microdrones, skin humming with regenerative shielding.
"Julian Kade," it said. The voice was mechanical, calm. "Directive: Remove interference. Extract Protocol."
Julian smiled tightly. "Guess you're the new guy."
"Correction. Last guy."
It lunged.
Julian wasn't a soldier. But he was fast.
And the System let him think faster.
As the assassin closed the gap, Julian kicked over a broken drone, its battery cracked and leaking. The fluid hit the ground and sparked.
Julian swept his arm over a torn control console, dragging copper wire through the spark—creating an instant flash bomb. The assassin flinched, just long enough for Julian to dive out of reach.
He ran—through a shattered corridor and into the workshop.
Locked.
He slammed the door shut and braced it with a piece of rebar.
[System: Suggestion—Seek environment advantages.]
Julian scanned the room. Tools. Spare parts. Old augmentation pods. One functioning grav-motor used to lift cargo.
He grinned.
Julian grabbed:
A decommissioned electromagnetic pulley coil.
Liquid nitrogen canister from an old cryo-gel kit.
Two neural override injectors.
A wrench.
Duct tape. (Always duct tape.)
He set the trap in sixty seconds flat.
Just as the door exploded inward.
The assassin entered—silent, unaffected.
Julian hurled the cryo-canister at the ceiling. It burst, spraying super-cooled mist that dropped visibility to near zero.
[Engaging Sensory Dampener… Cloaking Active]
He flipped the grav-motor upside down, magnetized the coil, and attached it to the wall with duct tape and spit. As the assassin approached the center of the room, Julian activated it.
The field pulled every piece of metal in the room toward the core.
Including the assassin's nano-woven weapons.
The thing flinched mid-strike—its arm yanked sideways, blade clattering against the wall.
Julian slid forward, slammed the neural injectors into the side of its neck, and hit both buttons.
Bzzzzt.
The assassin convulsed—briefly—then stood perfectly still.
"Clever," it said.
Then it smiled.
Julian's heart sank.
"Phase two engaged," the assassin whispered.
The lights blew out.
Julian was thrown backward by a shockwave of kinetic energy. His spine hit a wall. The air tasted of metal and ozone. When he looked up, the assassin's form was shifting—veins glowing with red circuitry, eyes like molten data cores.
It had adapted.
The traps wouldn't work again.
Julian scrambled, fingers bleeding, and yanked open an old cooling vent behind him. He dove in just as the assassin lunged, slicing the air behind him.
He crawled for what felt like hours—through dust, grease, and sparks. Every turn, the System rerouted his path, highlighting weak structural points.
"Got anything left?" he whispered.
[Initiating Improvisation Mode… Suggestion: Trap using power grid node below sector.]
Julian blinked. "That's—Wait. I could reroute the transformer charge."
[Correct. You may also survive. Possibly.]
He emerged into the basement. Found the transformer.
Live wires. Supercharged.
He took a crowbar, stripped the insulation, wrapped one end in his jacket, and jammed it into the relay port. Then he climbed atop the node, laid out copper sheet-metal like bait, and waited.
The assassin dropped from the ceiling like a vulture.
"Final movement, Julian."
Julian held the end of a wire. "Yup."
The assassin stepped onto the copper.
Julian touched the wire to the crowbar.
KRACKOOM.
The transformer surged. Lightning exploded through the basement. The assassin convulsed midair—then dropped like a marionette with cut strings, smoking and silent.
Julian collapsed beside it, panting.
He stared at the ruined figure.
"You weren't built to kill me," he muttered. "You were built to scare me."
He leaned closer.
"Next time… build smarter."