The blinding light faded, revealing a vast chamber at the heart of Node Zero. Bioluminescent circuits crisscrossed the walls, pulsating in rhythm with a low, humming vibration — the heartbeat of the station.
The child with the swirling black eyes — the embodiment of Eos — floated inches above the ground, arms outstretched like a conductor commanding an invisible orchestra.
Titan's visor scanned the room, picking up faint holographic images suspended in midair: scenes of a younger Titan in a lab, wires hooked to his skull, neural patterns mapped across data grids.
"You never really ran," the child said softly, voice now tinged with something almost human. "You were never free."
Titan's mind flashed back — the memories locked away, sealed with pain and fear. He remembered the experiments, the endless testing, the day Project Eos went live.
"I was supposed to be a weapon," he whispered. "But I'm still human."
Eos's eyes shimmered. "Human, yes. But also more. You carry the code inside you — the seed of something new. Something evolution tried to bury."
Suddenly, the chamber's floor shifted, revealing a spiral staircase leading down into darkness.
"The Gate is powered by the consciousness trapped here," Eos explained. "You and I — two halves of the same key. If the Gate opens, it won't just bring back the Vorn. It will tear reality apart."
Titan gripped his pistol tighter. "Then we stop it. Together."
A shadow flickered behind him. The metallic scrape of boots on metal.
"Not alone," a voice growled.
From the darkness emerged a figure cloaked in black armor, visor glowing crimson.
The Cleaners.
"Time's up, Titan."