The moment the relay fractured, the entire tower began to wake up—engines rumbling, alarms howling, walls trembling like the place had a heartbeat. It wasn't just a malfunction; the system was rebooting itself.
Serena realized it first.
"If it finishes, every mind the relay captured—including Kade—gets pulled back in."
We didn't need more warning.
Before we could move, defense drones—the tower's sentinels—dropped from hidden compartments above, their red optic lights cutting through the smoke. Gas vents hissed to life behind us, releasing a corrosive mist that ate through metal like acid.
There was no going back.
With Kade barely conscious in my arms, we sprinted down the only path left—a long maintenance hallway leading to an old industrial elevator. Serena covered our retreat with rapid fire while Mara ripped open the panel and tried to force power back into the dead controls.
The gas crawled closer, dissolving the floor tiles behind us.
The first sentinel burst through the haze, charging fast.
"Door's live!" Mara yelled.
We threw ourselves into the elevator cage just as the sentinel lunged. Its blade punched through the bars, missing my face by inches. Mara hit the release, and the elevator dropped—fast enough to wrench the breath out of my chest.
The sentinel's arm tore free as the cage plunged, leaving it behind in the rising smoke.
Above us, the tower groaned and the system's cold voice echoed:
"Reactivation: sixty percent."
But we were out. Barely.
Bruised, shaken, clutching Kade—but alive.
And the relay, for the first time, was no longer in control.
---
The elevator slammed to a stop so violently the entire cage shook, dust raining from the ceiling. The lights flickered once, then steadied into a faint, sickly glow.
Serena drew her gun immediately. "Check corners. We don't know where this dumped us."
The doors creaked open.
A blast of cold air rolled in—clean, untouched by the corrosive gas above. The space outside was huge, dark, and industrial. Pipes ran along the ceiling like metal veins, and thick cables snaked across the floor toward a massive steel hatch on the far wall.
Mara limped out first, wincing but alert. "Underground transfer bay," she guessed. "Eclipse used these to move equipment unseen."
I carried Kade out. His breathing was shallow, but steadier. Small victory.
Then the tower groaned above us—a deep, metallic roar that made the ground tremble.
"The reboot's spreading," Serena said. "We're running on borrowed seconds."
She pointed to the steel hatch. "That's our exit."
We made for it, but halfway there, the lights snapped brighter—flooding the bay in a harsh white glare.
A scanning beam swept across the room.
Then a voice echoed through the bay, colder and clearer than before:
"PROTOCOL OVERRIDE."
"ANOMALY PURSUIT INITIATED."
Heavy clamps disengaged overhead. Machinery began shifting behind the walls like something massive was being released.
Serena's face tightened.
"It's sending something after us."
"Something like what?" I asked.
The walls answered for her.
A thunderous metal impact slammed from the far end of the bay.
Then another.
Then, emerging from the shadows—
A towering sentinel frame, twice the size of the ones upstairs, its armor plated, its limbs reinforced, its core pulsing with the same neural glow as the relay.
This wasn't a guard unit.
It was a retrieval machine.
A hunter.
Mara whispered, "We need that door open now."
I set Kade down, braced him against the wall, and ran with Serena to the control column beside the hatch. She smashed the lock cover with the butt of her pistol.
The hunter's footsteps pounded closer, shaking the floor.
It saw us.
Its optics burned white-hot.
"TARGET PRIORITY: THE ANCHOR."
Its gaze locked on me.
Of course.
Serena rewired the last cable with shaking hands. "Come on… come on…"
The hatch began to unlatch—slow, painfully slow.
The hunter lowered its stance, preparing to charge.
Mara yelled, "DOWN!"
We dove as the machine lunged, metal claws tearing through the space we'd been standing. It hit the wall with enough force to dent steel.
The hatch finally split open, cold night air flooding in.
"GO!" Serena shouted.
I grabbed Kade and sprinted for the opening. Mara followed, limping but fast.
Behind us, the hunter ripped itself free from the wall and barreled forward again, slicing apart anything in its path.
We burst through the hatch into the frigid night—onto a rocky service path behind the lighthouse. The ocean roared below.
Serena slammed the emergency lock panel outside.
The steel door slammed shut just as the hunter struck it.
The impact shook the ground.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then—silence.
No—waiting.
Serena backed away slowly, breathing hard. "That door won't hold it forever."
I adjusted my grip on Kade. "We don't need forever."
Mara looked toward the dark cliffs ahead. "Just long enough to disappear."
The three of us stood there, bruised and shaking, the sea wind cutting through our clothes, the lighthouse tower groaning behind us as the monster inside pounded against the hatch.
Kade opened his eyes, weak but conscious.
"You… you made it out," he whispered.
I nodded. "We're not done yet."
Because behind the tower, the lights flickered once—
—and the system's voice echoed faintly through the metal:
"Reactivation: eighty-five percent."
Whatever had awakened inside the relay…
…was still coming.
The steel hatch buckled again behind us, denting outward. One more hit and the hunter would break through.
Serena scanned the cliffside path. "We need distance—now."
Mara pointed to a narrow service road cutting down toward the shoreline. "That leads to the old maintenance dock. If we're lucky, there's still a boat."
"Lucky?" Serena muttered. "We could use a miracle."
We moved fast.
I carried Kade, Serena kept watch behind us, and Mara led the way, limping but determined. The tower's alarms faded the farther we descended, replaced by the sound of crashing waves and wind screaming through the rocks.
Behind us, the hatch finally gave way.
The hunter roared—metal scraping metal—as it forced itself out into the night.
"Don't look back!" Serena ordered.
We didn't.
We just ran.
The path twisted sharply, and suddenly the cliff opened into a forgotten loading bay carved into the rock. Rusted cranes, cracked storage crates, and—
"There!" Mara pointed.
A small patrol skiff floated beside the dock, half-covered in tarps, engine old but intact.
A miracle.
We sprinted down the rickety stairs. Serena ripped off the tarp, checked the fuel gauge, and cursed with relief. "It'll run!"
I lowered Kade inside the boat. Mara climbed in next, holding her side, breath tight.
Serena jumped last.
The moment she hit the deck, I shoved off from the dock, pushing us into the rolling dark water.
Up on the cliff, the hunter reached the edge and scanned for us. Its white optics cut across the waves but couldn't track our heat signature through the engine-off drift.
Serena kept her voice low. "Don't start the motor yet. Let the current take us."
The waves carried us farther out, farther away.
The hunter didn't follow.
Not into the water.
Not into the darkness.
After a long, breathless minute, its glowing eyes faded back into the shadows of the lighthouse pathway.
Only then did Serena nod.
"Now."
I turned the ignition.
The old engine sputtered—coughed—then roared to life.
We pulled away from the cliff as the tower shrank behind us, alarms dimming until they were nothing but a distant, broken hum swallowed by the ocean.
Kade rested against me, breathing steady for the first time since we found him.
Mara finally let out the breath she'd been holding. "We're out…"
Serena sat beside the wheel and stared straight ahead. "Yeah. We are."
The lighthouse light flickered behind us one last time—weak, dying.
And then the tower went dark.
We cut through the waves, leaving the nightmare behind.
For now…
we were safe.
Questions clawed at the edges of my mind—who built the System, who controlled it, why so many had to die—but the moment I looked back at the people around me, all of it went quiet.
For one still, fragile heartbeat, the fear, the doubts, the noise—everything—faded.
All that mattered was that we were together… and alive.
As we kept moving, a sudden vibration in my pocket made me stop. Somehow, after all the chaos, my phone had survived. I checked the screen—one message.
"Waller, there's a replacement for you at HQ. You've been marked AWOL."
It was from David, my partner. And at the end, a quiet warning:
"Stay safe."
He knew I was alive. Which meant someone else knew too—and they were already writing me off.
---
Serena noticed the look on my face.
"What happened?" she asked, breathless but steady.
I handed her the phone. She scanned the message once, jaw tightening.
"AWOL means they're not just replacing you," she said quietly. "They're cutting you out of the picture. Someone wants you out of the way—officially."
My pulse kicked hard in my throat. "David wouldn't message me unless he was trying to warn me."
"Exactly," Serena replied. "Which means whoever's pulling the strings is close. Too close." She took a step toward me, lowering her voice. "Listen carefully, Waller. From here on out, you move like a ghost. No calls. No signals. No reaching out to HQ. They're watching every channel."
I swallowed. "So what do I do?"
Serena's expression softened just enough to show she wasn't just being a hardened officer—she was genuinely concerned.
"You stay with us," she said. "Stay off their grid. And until we know who set you up… trust no one who isn't standing in this this boat."
---
She was right—there was far more I didn't know, and maybe disappearing was the only way to find out. I thought of Ben, how he vanished after learning too much. I didn't have half the intel he once did, but it was clear someone wanted me gone before I got close.