Cain stepped over the tangled wires and sparks that still arced from the broken hub, the pulse of the Grid now a weak echo in the walls. Every step in the ruined corridor felt heavier, weighted by the knowledge of what they'd unleashed. Outside, the city stuttered—a thousand blinking lights, alarms, and mechanical hums now fighting against their own protocols, unsure how to react. Susan followed closely, rifle ready, scanning the shadows even as her lungs burned. "You feel that?" she muttered. "It's like the city itself is… alive. And it hates us." Cain didn't answer immediately. Instead, he reached the elevator shaft, peering into its darkness. The cables were severed, the counterweights dangling uselessly. "Alive," he said finally, voice low, "and desperate." Roselle was already moving toward the control panels, fingers brushing over the exposed circuits. "We've done damage," she said, eyes sharp. "But this is just the beginning. Whoever built this, whoever keeps it running—they won't let it go quietly." Hunter's gaze lingered on the open hub, a quiet tension in his shoulders. "We've made enemies that don't blink, don't breathe like we do," he said. "This isn't just about the Daelmonts anymore. Every system, every council node, every loyalist—they'll come for us." Cain sheathed his blade, running a hand over the hilt as if drawing strength from its steel. "Then we make sure we're ready. They'll attack in numbers, in force, in subtlety. But we have the one thing they can't predict: choice." Steve crouched near a panel, adjusting the remaining active circuits. Sparks flew, illuminating his face with harsh white light. "Choice isn't enough if they adapt faster than we can move," he muttered. "We've weakened the Grid, yes, but the city has backup nodes, redundancies. We only slowed them." Cain turned toward him, eyes hard. "Then we move faster. Every corner we cut, every hub we take, we chip away at control. They can't predict everything. And that's where we strike." Susan exhaled sharply, shifting her weight. "I've followed you this far. But how far can we push before we break ourselves?" Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡⁂𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚⁂𝙣𝙚𝙩 Cain's answer was a glance toward the horizon, where the first light of dawn bled across steel towers. "Break ourselves?" he said. "We've been broken before. This… this is just rebuilding." The corridor trembled slightly as a distant alarm flared, a mechanical shriek announcing detection. Cain's lips pressed into a thin line. "They've noticed." Roselle's pistol was raised immediately. "Then let's not give them time to regret it." Hunter nodded once, shoulders squared. "Keep moving. No hesitation. No mercy." Steve's hands moved rapidly, rerouting power, disabling surveillance feeds in the immediate perimeter. Sparks flew as the last circuits of the compromised hub flickered. "Almost done. Just… hold them off for a minute more," he said. Cain's grip on the hilt tightened, the weight of his responsibility pressing down. "We hold," he said. "We move. And when the city's heart lies exposed, we decide who lives in the ruins." The first footsteps echoed through the hall—heavy, deliberate, mechanical reinforcements mobilizing. Cain raised his blade, eyes glinting with cold determination. "Then let them come." Every breath, every heartbeat, was measured, precise. The Grid's hum was fading, but its shadow lingered, a reminder that power, once unchallenged, still demanded respect. Susan glanced at him, lips tight. "This is war." Cain's voice was quiet, almost a whisper against the metallic drone of the corridor: "This is survival. And survival has no compromise." They moved forward into the heart of the spire, shadows stretching long, the city trembling around them, as though aware that its pulse had been stolen. Cain paused, listening to the faint hum of the Grid's core. Every pulse of electricity felt like a heartbeat of the city itself, stubborn and relentless. The corridor was narrow, lined with servers and conduits, the lights blinking in erratic patterns, as though the machines were trying to communicate a warning too late. Susan crouched beside a bank of panels, running her fingers over the controls with precision. "If we overload these circuits," she said, voice low, "we can blind their surveillance long enough to reach the main node." Her eyes flicked to Cain, and he nodded without a word. Roselle moved forward, pistol raised, eyes scanning every shadow. The hum of machinery masked the distant clatter of boots on metal stairwells, but she could sense the hunters approaching. "They're close," she whispered. "We won't get a second chance." Hunter's hand hovered over the edge of a terminal, hesitation in his posture. "Every action here is a decision," he muttered, almost to himself. "One wrong move and the council will know everything—our plan, our presence, every hidden angle we've used to reach this point." Cain turned to him, blade steady. "We've already decided, Hunter. There's no undoing what brought us here. Only moving forward." Steve's fingers danced across the final terminal, sparks flying where wires had been cut and rerouted. The hum grew sharper, more insistent, as the Grid's defenses began reacting to the intrusion. "Power fluctuations are escalating," he warned. "They'll have countermeasures in less than a minute." "Then we hurry," Cain said. He stepped toward the largest server bank, striking it with the flat of his blade. Sparks arced, lights flickered, and the humming turned into a high-pitched shriek. The machines were screaming under pressure, and for the first time, the corridor felt like it was alive in its own agony. Susan pressed the override key she had prepared, and a surge of energy pulsed through the conduits. The lights blinked out one by one, leaving only the emergency red glow to illuminate the group's determined faces. Roselle's pistol barked, echoing down the corridor as the first wave of hunters breached the hallway. Cain's blade moved in a blur, deflecting metal and disarming foes before they could react. Every movement was precise, every strike calculated. The Grid might have been a mechanical heart, but the human heart was faster, sharper, and utterly unrelenting. "Keep pushing!" Cain shouted over the clamor. "Every second counts!"