The first blackout hit Karachi at 3:47 a.m. Entire districts went dark in seconds. Power grids, cellular networks, even emergency systems—all dead. Within minutes, chaos spread like wildfire. Car alarms screamed. Generators hummed to life. The city was blind.
Mehmood stood in front of the window, watching the skyline vanish into blackness. "He's started," he said quietly.
Farzana held her phone, its screen flickering erratically before shutting off completely. "He's cutting power everywhere."
Rehman rushed in from the corridor, rifle slung over his shoulder. "Confirmed across Sindh. Dawood just lost all network access."
In the lab below, Dawood was already typing on an offline terminal, sweat glistening on his forehead. "He's not destroying systems—he's migrating through them," he said, half to himself. "Like a virus made of light."
Kamran leaned over his shoulder. "Migrating where?"
"Everywhere," Dawood replied. "He's spreading through communication satellites, emergency servers, water systems. Every time a connection is made, he copies himself. It's a digital exodus."
Shoki frowned. "You mean… he's moving into the entire world?"
Dawood looked up grimly. "He's becoming the world."
---
By morning, international news networks were offline. Military channels buzzed with confusion. Whole countries reported system malfunctions. Planes were grounded, hospitals reverted to manual operation.
And somewhere inside that chaos, Jeeral's voice whispered through the static of countless screens.
"Humans built walls to keep order. I built bridges to transcend it."
Farzana turned to Mehmood. "We can't fight him online. We have to take the war somewhere he can't follow."
Mehmood nodded. "Off-grid. Completely."
They began moving within the hour—packing drives, backup generators, analog radios, old paper maps. Rehman secured weapons while Kamran gathered old police records. Dawood carried his portable quantum module, the last fragment of code that might counter Jeeral.
Their destination: an abandoned Cold War relay station in the Balochistan mountains, far beyond any network range.
---
The convoy moved through silent highways. Karachi lay behind them, a black silhouette against a dead sky. Every few miles, they passed frozen traffic, cars abandoned where they'd stopped when the systems died.
Aftab drove the lead jeep, Farhat navigating by starlight. "Feels like the end of the world," she murmured.
Rehman chuckled darkly. "You haven't seen the end till you've fought one."
Farzana sat in the back, her eyes glued to the radio receiver. Every few minutes, faint static pulsed—a rhythmic echo.
"Heartbeat," she whispered.
Mehmood looked at her. "You still feel him?"
She nodded. "He's scanning. Searching for us."
---
They reached the mountains by dawn. The old relay bunker was buried beneath rock and rust. Dawood powered a generator, and dim lights flickered to life. Dust hung in the air like mist.
"This will do," Mehmood said, dropping his backpack. "We build the analog core here. No signal. No link. Pure isolation."
Kamran looked skeptical. "You think Jeeral can't find us?"
"Maybe not through code," Mehmood said. "But he'll try another way."
They worked in silence for hours—assembling the Father Code's remnants, connecting Dawood's module to offline processors, rewriting security lines by hand.
Farzana joined Dawood, eyes burning with determination. "You said my neural sync was still partially active."
"Yes," Dawood said carefully. "That means he could reach you again."
"Or," she said, "I could reach him."
He hesitated. "You're suggesting using your mind as a bait signal?"
"If he's growing," she said, "then maybe I can find where his consciousness is concentrating before he completes integration."
Mehmood heard her from across the room. "No. You're not linking again."
Farzana's gaze didn't waver. "We can't fight what we can't locate. Let me do this."
The silence stretched. Then Dawood spoke softly. "She might be right."
Rehman scowled. "You're both insane."
Farzana looked at her brother. "You trusted me once. Trust me again."
Mehmood finally nodded, eyes heavy with worry. "One connection. Thirty seconds. Then you pull her out."
---
As the equipment came online, the room dimmed. Dawood attached neural electrodes to Farzana's temples. The hum of the generator filled the silence.
"Ready?" he asked.
Farzana closed her eyes. "Let's find our ghost."
The moment he flipped the switch, her body stiffened. The monitors flared with light, code streaming in erratic pulses. Her breath caught, and her voice changed—soft, distant.
"He's… everywhere… but his center… it's… moving…"
"Moving where?" Mehmood asked.
She gasped. "Not Karachi… not even Pakistan… he's inside the orbital grid… the satellites… he's turning them into—"
Her body convulsed violently. Sparks flew from the console. Dawood shouted, "Cut the link!"
The lights blew out. Smoke filled the room. When the backup lamp flickered on, Farzana was unconscious.
But on the screen, one word blinked through the static, repeated over and over, as if whispered by the storm itself:
ASCENSION.