Cain's blade pierced the hum. Metal kissed energy, and the heart of the Grid convulsed. The chamber erupted in light, blue and violent, as if the city itself screamed. The sound went beyond ears—it shuddered in bones, in nerves, in memory.
Steve staggered back, shielding his eyes. "It's…splitting itself—like it's alive!"
The coils running along the walls thrashed, arcs of lightning snapping free and carving burns across steel. A smell of scorched air filled the room. Susan fired at a conduit that began to crawl open like a wound, her bullets sparking uselessly against energy that refused to die.
Roselle fired too, not to damage, but to buy seconds. Her jaw clenched as heat singed the skin of her hands. "Finish it, Cain!"
Cain pressed the blade deeper, feeling resistance not from matter but will. The Grid fought him. Every motion was a war. His arms quaked, but his eyes stayed locked on the blade's glow as it drove into the core.
