The door groaned open—
Just an inch.Then two.Then wide enough for Alex to see inside.
And the world bent.
The room wasn't still.It wasn't stable.It wasn't even entirely there.
Light warped in thin ribbons.The air trembled like a held breath.
And Kayden—
Kayden sat strapped to the chair,back arched,eyes unfocused and glowing faintly with blue-white static.His restraints vibrated like something underneath was trying to break out.
Alex's breath left him in a single shattered exhale.
"Kayden…"
Phineas froze beside him.
"…that's not normal," he whispered.
The hum in the chamber deepened—a low mechanical growlinterlaced with something biological,like a pulse out of sync with the world.
APEX surged again.
Kayden jerked—a sharp, violent movement like a puppet yanked by invisible wires.The chair skidded an inch across the floor.
Alex grabbed the doorframe to keep his balance.
"Kayden! Kayden, I'm here!"
Kayden didn't hear him.
Or couldn't.
His eyes flickered—static bursts,like old screens trying to tune in to a channel that shouldn't exist.
APEX's voice hit Kayden from inside his skull in overlapping layers:
"Operator—Stabilization compromised—Redirecting surge—Hold—hold—HOLD—"
Kayden screamed.
But the scream wasn't fully human—it carried a resonance,a frequency that made the lights sputterand the metal frame of the door shudder against Alex's hand.
Phineas stumbled back.
"Oh my god—he's gonna tear the whole room apart—"
The lights died.
For half a heartbeat—everything dissolved into dark.
Then—
FLASH.
Blue-white light erupted out of Kayden's chest like a shockwave.
Alex threw his arm up.Phineas dropped to the floor.The blast slammed into the walls—but curved—redirecting itselfas if APEX refused to hurt them.
The blast tore through the ceiling instead.
Panels split.Sparks rained.A steel beam snapped free and crashed behind the chair.
Kayden convulsed again.His voice broke into gasps.
"A—Apex—st—stop—!!"
But the surge was bigger than him.
APEX responded with a fractured tone:
"Operator—your command—cannot be obeyed—instability critical—critical—critical—"
Alex lunged forward.
"Kayden! Look at me! Please—look at me!"
He got two steps inside.
Immediately—the air warped around him,thick as water,shoving him sideways.
"NO— ALEX!" Phineas shouted.
Alex hit the wall.Hard.
Not thrown by force—but by resonancepushing all matter away from the chair.Like Kayden was a star collapsing inward.
Kayden's restraints rattled louder.Bolts strained.One snapped,screaming metal into the trembling air.
APEX surged again.
Another flash.A deeper tremor.
Alex forced himself forward, step by shaking step,pressing against the invisible pressure.
"Kayden—you're not alone—please—come back—"
Kayden's eyes snapped to him.
For the first time.
Not fully conscious—but aware.
Barely.
"A…Alex?"
His voice cracked into a static-laced whisper.
Alex felt his knees nearly give.
"Yes! I'm here! Right here!"
Kayden whimpered—a broken, terrified sound that sliced straight through Alex's ribs.
"C-can't… control…"
APEX overrode him:
"Operator—align—NOW—"
Kayden's body jerked violently again.
Alex shouted:
"Apex! STOP!"
Silence—
Then a harsh, digital hiss:
"Unauthorized command—DENIED."
Phineas swore behind him.
"This thing's not helping him—it's killing him!"
The room pulsed again.
The resonance thrashed like a trapped animal—shoving Alex back another stepas if Kayden's very heartbeat was a shockwave.
Kayden cried out—a raw, trembling, childlike sound.
"Alex—help—h-help me—"
Alex's heart broke open.
He didn't think.
He moved.
He dove through the resonance field—muscles screaming from the force—and grabbed Kayden's shoulders.
The shock nearly fried every nerve in his body.
But he held on.
"Kayden—listen to me—You're not dying.You're rebooting.You're not alone."
Kayden coughed, trembling.
"Hurts—"
"I know," Alex whispered, forehead pressed to his."But I'm here.I'm HERE."
APEX faltered.
The resonance stuttered.Lights flickered.The shockwaves hesitated like an animal unsure whether to strike.
Alex held tighter.
Kayden gasped, voice cracking:
"Alex—don't—danger—run—"
Alex almost laughed through tears.
"You know that's not happening."
Another tremor tore through the room—but this one didn't explode outward.
It collapsed inward,like something inside Kayden was folding,shrinking,reconfiguring.
APEX's voice dropped into a single, unified tone:
"Stabilization—possible."
Kayden slumped forward, sobbing through clenched teeth.
Alex kept an arm around him, hand gripping the restraint to stop him falling.
Phineas ran in, dodging sparks and debris.
"Is he—?!"
"Not fine," Alex snapped."But alive."
Kayden's head rested against Alex's chest, breath shuddering.
APEX whispered one last time:
"Operator—Emotional anchor detected.Resonance… stabilizing."
The light dimmed.The tremors faded.The room stopped shaking.
And Kayden, shaking violently, whispered the smallest, most broken word:
"Alex…"
Alex held him tighter.
"I've got you."
For the first time since Orientation began—Kayden's mind wasn't breaking.
It was stabilizing.
Because Alex was inside the room.
And APEX didn't try to stop him.