The elevator shaft stretched upward like a metal throat swallowing the light. Every sound echoed—the hiss of steam, the distant hum of the city far above.
Adrian went first, hoisting himself up the rusted ladder, his free hand gripping a flashlight. Lena followed with the baby held tightly against her chest, the faint glow beneath his skin lighting their path.
"He's not cold," she whispered, glancing down at the small, peaceful face. "How is that possible?"
Adrian didn't look back. "His body regulates itself. Hybrid metabolism. That's how Erevos designed him to survive."
She swallowed hard. "You talk about him like he's not a baby."
He hesitated mid-step, guilt flickering in his voice. "He is. But he's also something more. Something they'll never stop hunting."
They reached a ledge halfway up the shaft where a broken service door hung ajar. Adrian pried it open and helped her through into a dark maintenance corridor. Dust swirled in their flashlight beams, and the air smelled of rust and decay.
"Where are we?" she asked.
"Sector Twelve," he replied. "Abandoned after the floods. Erevos won't risk sending heavy patrols here—too unstable."
Lena adjusted the child in her arms, watching the glow from his veins pulse softly. "He's calm. Like he knows we're safe."
Adrian stared at him—so fragile, yet already burdened with the weight of an entire experiment. "He might understand more than we think."
They moved down the corridor, passing collapsed ceilings and half-buried doors. Water dripped steadily from pipes above.
Then Adrian froze.
His wrist-link flashed red.
> Signal Detected. Origin: Unknown. Encrypted.
He tapped the screen, scanning the feed. A voice crackled through static:
> "Cole… you've done it, haven't you? You found the child."
Adrian's pulse spiked. "Who is this?"
"You know who," the voice rasped. "And you know what comes next."
Lena's eyes widened. "Victor?"
The signal broke into static, then returned, distorted but urgent.
> "They're tracing the Core's output. Every sensor, every drone—they're already converging on your position. If you want the truth, reach the Eastern Spire before dawn."
Adrian frowned. "That's across the flooded sectors. We'll never make it in time."
> "You don't have a choice."
The signal cut off. The wrist-link screen went dark.
Lena exhaled shakily. "Was that really him?"
"I don't know," Adrian admitted. "But he's the only one who could've known about the Spire."
He scanned the map projected in front of him. The route was a labyrinth of submerged streets and collapsed tunnels. "It's suicide," he muttered.
Lena looked at him steadily. "So was coming here. And yet we're still alive."
He almost smiled at that. Almost.
They pushed onward until the corridor opened into a massive underground atrium. Broken neon signs flickered faintly—remnants of an old train terminal. The light from above filtered through cracks in the ceiling, painting everything in streaks of silver and ash.
Adrian moved ahead cautiously. "Stay close."
Lena followed, cradling the child, every instinct sharpened. "He's awake," she murmured.
The baby's eyes opened—glowing faintly blue, reflecting the dim light. For the first time, he made a sound: a soft coo that vibrated faintly in the air, almost musical.
Adrian turned back. "He—did you hear that?"
Lena nodded. "It's like… a frequency."
Then the world shifted.
All at once, the terminal lights flared to life, screens flickering on along the walls. A deep hum filled the air—the same resonance that had pulsed through the Erevos Core.
Adrian grabbed Lena's arm, pulling her behind a column. "He triggered it. Somehow."
On the screens, data cascaded rapidly, forming images—schematics, neural patterns, project codes. The same symbol appeared again and again:
> Ω-01: Signal Prime
Lena stared at it, realization dawning. "He's broadcasting."
Adrian's heart pounded. "Broadcasting what?"
"His location."
The hum grew louder. The baby's eyes glowed brighter, syncing with the lights.
"Adrian," Lena said, panic rising, "he can't control it!"
Adrian knelt beside her, voice firm but calm. "Listen to me. You have to steady your breathing. He's responding to you—your pulse, your fear. Focus on him."
Lena closed her eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks. "It's okay," she whispered, rocking the child gently. "You're safe. You're safe."
Slowly, the glow dimmed. The lights around them flickered, then died. The hum faded into silence.
Adrian exhaled, muscles unclenching. "You did it."
But before relief could sink in, his wrist-link vibrated again—this time with a warning.
> Multiple heat signatures inbound.
Distance: 400 meters.
He cursed under his breath. "They're here."
Lena's gaze hardened. "Then we keep moving."
He nodded. "There's an old service lift at the end of this hall. It should still reach the surface."
They sprinted through the shadows, boots splashing through shallow water. The baby stirred but didn't cry, his faint light guiding their path.
Behind them, mechanical voices echoed through the terminal:
> "Subjects located. Engage with non-lethal containment protocols."
Adrian turned, fired a round that hit a drone midair, sending it spiraling into a pillar. Sparks burst across the room.
They reached the lift, forcing the old doors open. The interior groaned but held. Adrian slammed the control lever down, and the lift shuddered upward through darkness.
Lena pressed her forehead against his shoulder, her voice trembling. "How long can we keep running?"
Adrian didn't answer immediately. He watched the floors slide past, the rusted numbers counting up. "As long as we have to."
The lift stopped with a jolt. The doors slid open to reveal a city bathed in dawn's gray light—smoke curling from distant towers, rain falling in silver sheets.
Lena stepped out first, clutching the baby close. "Where now?"
Adrian scanned the horizon, eyes narrowing on the spire that pierced the skyline far to the east. "There."
The wind howled across the empty street, carrying the faint sound of approaching engines.
He turned to her. "We move fast and quiet. No stops. No mistakes."
Lena nodded. "Then let's end this."
They disappeared into the waking city—three shadows against a dying world—unaware that far above them, on a tower rooftop, a figure watched through the rain, speaking softly into a comm-link.
> "They're heading for the Spire. Proceed to Phase Two."