Elara stood in silence, a torrent of greed, fear, and consequence warring within her. Finally, she replied to The General.
"The others will discover the truth one day. And that day will be my downfall. But if you kill him, I will pretend to punish you, assume power, and you will be rewarded."
"I've never had the chance to fight him," The General replied, his voice a low grumble. "I may never have a chance to be with him in such a vulnerable position."
Elara chuckled, a dry, humorless sound.
"What is it?" he demanded.
"You speak as if you could beat him in a fair fight."
"Why… why wouldn't I?" The General stammered, anger rising in his voice. "He is a rich CEO, a scientist. I am a trained and experienced warrior. The difference is obvious."
"Just go and switch off the virus. He'll wake soon." Elara terminated the call.
She stared into the void, the weight of her conspiracy pressing down on her.
"I'll give you what you want," she muttered to the empty room. "I'll lead Bryce to you. But you had better keep your word and eliminate him."
An hour later, Elara returned to her office. Bryce was awake.
"Please, remove these cuffs," he said. His voice was calm, devoid of its usual commanding edge. Elara studied him. He seemed like himself, yet fundamentally different—a quiet intensity had replaced his eruptive energy.
"Please," he repeated.
She complied. The moment the cuffs disengaged, he changed into a fresh, pre-packaged cloth and moved toward the door.
"Bryce, where are you going?"
"To do what I came down to do."
"What is that?" she persisted, blocking his path. She fought to steady her heartbeat, knowing his enhanced hearing would pick up the frantic rhythm.
"End this virus." He stepped past her and was gone.
His destination was only a few miles away: Onyx Medicals. A meeting was hastily convened with its CEO, Fave.
"Bryce, what was all that?" she asked, her face etched with worry.
"Fave, why hasn't this virus been stopped? What is happening here?" He ignored her question, his words a rapid, angry volley.
"Calm down, Bryce. What's wrong with you?" Fave, a tall, slim woman, remained seated behind her desk, trying to project an air of control.
"Provide me with an answer." Bryce took a seat, his posture rigid.
"The virus is synthetic. Our strategy was to use Raymond's Quantum Hacking Device to create a counter-virus designed to seek and destroy the original. We convinced Raymond to hand it over, but it was hijacked in transit. The UBI traced it to the dark web, but they have no access."
Bryce's face contorted in confusion. "What are you talking about? The dark web doesn't exist anymore. I dismantled it myself."
"It exists. It has regrown. It's more private now. Entry is by connection only."
Bryce's gaze turned inward. He selected Elara's contact from the mental list projected by his B-Wax and initiated the call with a thought. There was no dial tone, only the immediate, silent opening of a secure channel.
"I have questions about the dark web. I want the truth."
"I'll tell you everything," Elara replied, her voice cautious. "But first, you must promise me something."
"What?"
"Anonymity. If they discover I was the source, I'll be dead within days."
"Fine. I promise. Now answer me. What do you know about the dark web? Are you a member? How do I get in?"
"The General is its leader. I joined through a sergeant imprisoned for selling hypnotic drugs. His name is Maxwell. He's in Ironwood Prison. You can get to him. I'll have him transferred. Within three hours, he'll be at Onyx Technology. And Bryce… I'm sorry for joining—"
Bryce ended the call. His eyes glowed a piercing, dangerous white.
"Fave, we will talk when I am less busy." His voice was a low thrum of power. "There is something deeply wrong with humanity. We are chaos incarnate. Every problem has a cure. I spent my life trying to evolve us by conquering death. I was wrong. The true evolution is to conquer our worst aspects, to ascend and become purer organisms." His jaw was clenched, his fists tight. The white energy in his eyes intensified, circuits of light pulsating around his temples.
"Bryce, you need to rest. Whatever you need from me, I am yours to command. But your mind needs to calm down. You've just emerged from a destructive trauma." She moved to him, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder.
*******
Aboard the Onyx Bunker, a new, tense quiet had taken hold. It was the silence of absolute focus, imposed after Charlene had thrown her father into the sky.
They had always heard Bryce call his daughter reckless and fearless. Now, they were living under her rule. They didn't speak; they only stared at her with a mixture of surprise, fear, and deep regret. They were the ones who had advised Bryce to bring her on board.
The bots herded them into the boardroom—the same room where they had decided to invite her. They took their seats. Charlene sat in Bryce's throne-like chair, her boots propped on the conference table, a queen surrounded by her metallic guard. A robot handed her a bowl of munchies.
"The reason all your work has been infertile," she said, chewing thoughtfully, "is because you were attempting the impossible. My father's phobia of robots has crippled this mission. That's why I removed him." She sprang to her feet, energy crackling around her. "Anything that cannot adapt to its environment cannot survive a black hole. The only solution is to create a wireless, intelligent robot."
She gestured, and complex blueprints holographically illuminated the room.
"Let's get to work. I have the designs. We build it in twenty-four hours. I will compensate you for your work and there will be consequences if you refuse to work."
For three hours, they had worked nonstop, driven by a fear greater than any deadline Bryce had ever set.