03:35:04.
Rhea didn't believe in ghosts.
But the voice in her earpiece wasn't static.
It was Kairo.
"Hello again, Rhea."
Her blood turned to ice.
She stood frozen in the dim corridor outside the council chamber, the voices of politicians fading behind her. Lucien's hand hovered just above her shoulder, sensing something had changed.
"I warned you," Kairo's voice continued. "The system remembers. And so do I."
"But you're dead," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.
Lucien caught it instantly. "Who was that?" His voice dropped, sharp and low.
Rhea turned, eyes wide. "Kairo. His voice. It's still in the system."
Lucien cursed under his breath. "That's impossible."
No. Not impossible. Just horrifyingly plausible.
Kairo hadn't just uploaded data. He had mirrored himself—an echo inside the code. A backup of his mind.
And now that Rhea had accessed command control… she had awakened him.
Code Red
The council fell into chaos as system screens across the chamber flashed red. The AI interface hissed to life—lines of binary scrolling, glitching, rewriting.
WELCOME BACK, RHEA LIN.
DID YOU MISS ME?
"No, no, no…" Rhea slammed her hands on the console. "He's not alive. This is a residual file. A trap."
Lucien stood behind her, gun drawn, eyes scanning every shadow. "He planned for this."
"I should've wiped deeper," she muttered. "I only purged the surface layer."
The screens continued flashing—then turned to one word:
RETRIBUTION.
Suddenly, the doors slammed shut. Metal shutters locked down the exits. The council members screamed. Alarms returned, but this time they sounded different—less like a warning and more like a taunt.
Digital Resurrection
Lucien grabbed her arm. "We need to move."
"No," Rhea said, yanking free. "If he's running from the core, he has limited processing power. He can't control everything."
"You sure about that?"
The lights flickered. For a second, the AI's voice was distorted—then sharp.
"You killed the man. But not the mind."
"He's using predictive AI," Rhea snapped. "An advanced ghost script. He can't improvise—he can only react."
Lucien stared at her. "Then outsmart the dead."
The Gamble
They reached the AI chamber—dark, pulsing with red veins of corrupted data. It felt colder now. Emptier. But also more dangerous.
Lucien stood guard as Rhea approached the console. "What are you doing?"
She pulled up the code. "I'm opening the backdoor he left for himself."
"That's insane."
"It's bait."
"Do it, Rhea," the voice purred. "Come and find me."
She hesitated. Then typed:
> TRACE: GHOST NODE_47_BETA.
The system answered:
ACCESS GRANTED.
A single panel of the floor slid open. Beneath it—a stairwell bathed in flickering blue light.
Lucien stepped beside her. "This is exactly what he wants."
"I know," she whispered. "But if I don't finish this now, he'll never stop haunting the system."
Lucien reached out, catching her hand.
She stopped. Looked up.
"You're not going alone," he said, voice steady.
Something swelled in her chest. Fear. And… something else.
"Lucien," she murmured. "If I don't come back—"
"You will."
She didn't answer.
She just nodded.
And together, they stepped into the dark.
[To be continued…]