The bunker was quiet now, except for the soft hum of servers and the rain beating against the concrete walls above.
Luther sat cross-legged in front of the terminal, the flash drive plugged in. Elara hovered behind him, fingers twitching as if she wanted to type faster than the machine allowed.
"We have exactly three hours before Cain's men figure out our location again," she said. "Then it's extraction… if we're lucky."
Luther didn't respond. He was focused. The code on the screen wasn't just encryption, it was a digital map of probability, a simulation of cause and effect that his father had designed to interact with bloodline energy like his.
"This… this is insane," Luther murmured. "He turned his own research into… a weapon."
"Not his research," Elara corrected. "Your father's. He just wants it for himself."
Luther reached out, feeling the silver threads pulse faintly around his fingertips.
As soon as they brushed the terminal, the numbers on the screen shimmered. Lines of probability stretched from the code like tendrils, weaving through the room.
"Whoa," Elara whispered. "You're… interacting with it."
"I didn't even try," Luther said, voice tight. "It's like it knows me."
The simulation shifted beneath his hands. Digital agents moved through a virtual city, their patterns chaotic until Luther's threads wrapped around the nodes, guiding them.
Every decision, every probability split, bent to his will. A drone that would have struck them was diverted in the simulation before it could even fire. A guard who would have flanked them suddenly froze.
"You're predicting outcomes… shaping probability," Elara said, eyes wide. "You're the game itself."
Luther swallowed hard. "If Victor can manipulate this… why can't I?"
"Because you weren't trained," she said. "Yet."
They worked in silence for the next hour.
Elara decrypted layer after layer of data, revealing hidden schematics:
Cain Global's drone patrols.
Project Echelon's private labs.
Coordinates of former test subjects, most of whom were missing… or dead.
Luther absorbed it all. He could see the threads in the simulation, stretching across the city, linking every human, every machine, every outcome.
Then, a small blinking file appeared on the screen:
"Probability Node...Victor Cain"
Elara froze. "That… shouldn't be here. That's a live feed."
"You mean… he's watching us right now?" Luther said, his heartbeat spiking.
Elara shook her head. "No… worse. He's already inside the network. He's not just watching...he's predicting what we'll do."
Luther clenched his fists. The silver threads wrapped tighter around him.
"Then we beat him at his own game."
He extended his hand toward the terminal. The threads spread like a web, connecting with every node in the simulation. Numbers and probabilities twisted in real time, rearranging.
"Impossible," Elara whispered. "You're bending the network… before it even exists."
Luther's lips curved into a grim smile. "No, Elara… I'm rewriting it."
He focused, threads weaving faster and faster, synchronizing with the simulated city. A digital map of Victor's resources flickered, then collapsed like a house of cards.
"Now," he said. "We make him chase shadows."
Elara blinked at him. "You mean fake his probabilities? Make him think he's always one step ahead?"
"Exactly," Luther said. "And when he moves… We'll already be where he can't touch us."
The simulation pulsed, lines of silver and red racing across the cityscape. Every drone, every guard, every networked device moved according to his will.
For the first time since the crash, Luther felt power not fear.
Suddenly, an alert flashed: "INCOMING REAL-TIME INTERFERENCE UNAUTHORIZED THREAD DETECTED"
Elara swore under her breath. "He found you. He knows you're active."
Luther's eyes narrowed. The threads around his fingers glowed brighter.
"Then it's time to go… live."
He pushed the simulation aside and pulled Elara toward the hidden exit.
"We take the fight to him," he said. "Probability is my weapon now… and I won't let him predict me."
The storm outside was still raging, rain slicing like knives. Lightning cracked over the city, reflecting in the metallic hum of the servers as the threads around Luther flared, glowing brighter than ever.
"Ready?" he asked.
Elara's fingers hovered over the flash drive. "Let's rewrite the game."
And somewhere on the top floor of Cain Global Tower, Victor Cain leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled.
"Ah… so the ghost finally plays," he murmured. "I've been waiting for this moment."
Lightning flashed across the skyline.
The city held its breath.
The probability game had begun.
The rain pounded the bunker roof, but inside, the air was electric.
Luther's threads hummed louder than ever, wrapping around the walls, servers, and even Elara, like a protective lattice of silver light.
"We have to move now," Luther said, gripping the flash drive. "Victor won't wait for us to play safe."
Elara nodded, already typing in commands to create a temporary digital blind spot a phantom loop to mask their escape.
"It'll buy us… maybe thirty seconds," she muttered. "Not much more."
"Thirty seconds is all I need," Luther said.
The hidden exit led to an old service tunnel that opened beneath the city. It smelled of wet concrete and rust, but Luther didn't care. Every thread he controlled now stretched outward, linking to street cameras, traffic lights, and even the drone feed above. He could see everything Victor had placed in the city, every path the billionaire expected them to take.
"I can guide us," Luther said. "But you have to trust me."
Elara looked at him. "You said that before we survived Cain Global security drones."
"I know," he said. "But this time… I won't fail."
Outside, the storm raged. Lightning illuminated the streets in sharp flashes. Vehicles moved along the city like ants, oblivious to the unseen war unfolding above them.
Luther extended his hands. The threads wrapped around traffic lights, bending the signals to halt patrol cars, while drones wobbled mid-flight, confused by the invisible manipulation of probability.
"Whoa," Elara whispered. "You're… literally rewriting reality."
"Not reality," Luther corrected, voice tense. "Chance. The next step is controlling choice itself."
He took a deep breath, focusing. The threads wrapped tighter around him, almost burning his skin. Every potential outcome of the next few minutes unfurled in his mind, each one branching, twisting, exploding.
Then he moved.
A delivery truck screeched to a halt in front of them, perfectly placed to block two of Victor's patrol cars. Luther guided their steps with minute shifts, subtle as a shadow, until they slipped into an abandoned warehouse.
Inside, Elara slammed the door and pulled the flash drive close.
"That was… insane," she said, panting. "You just bent reality so the drones couldn't follow us."
"Not bent," Luther said. "I predicted and reshaped probabilities. I'm still learning… but I can do more."
Elara's eyes narrowed. "More? How much more? You can't just keep pushing like this..."
The lights flickered. A deep, metallic hum resonated through the warehouse.
"Too late," Luther said.
A shadow split the doorway. Victor Cain stepped into the dim light, arms spread casually, his suit untouched by the rain.
"Impressive," he said. "I see the ghost is no longer content to hide."
Luther's threads flared, silver arcs sparking across his skin.
"I'm not hiding anymore," he said. "I'm taking the game to you."
Victor's lips curved into a slow smile.
"Bold. Reckless. Exactly like your father. Let's see if you survive the first move."
Luther's hands moved instinctively. Threads shot out, hitting Victor before he could step forward. But Victor didn't flinch he vanished from sight in a blink, reappearing behind Luther with a faint ripple in the air, as if probability itself bent around him.
"Did you really think I'd wait?" Victor said, voice calm but dangerous.
Luther spun, threads slicing through the air. The silver filaments tangled around Victor but he dissolved them effortlessly, moving faster than the threads could follow.
"He's… adapting," Elara muttered. "Your probability's… not enough yet."
"Then I'll push further," Luther said. His heartbeat synced with the threads. He reached deeper and felt the lines of chance bending around him like a storm.
Suddenly, Victor paused mid-step for a second, and the world seemed to freeze. Bullets suspended in air, drones hovering, rain frozen in mid-fall. The threads had reached into the very probabilities of his opponent, nudging them, teasing them.
"I see your moves," Luther said, voice low. "I can rewrite them."
Victor smirked, a spark of admiration in his eyes.
"Then the game truly begins, Luther. Let's see who controls probability first."
Outside, the storm raged harder, lightning splitting the sky as the first real battle of wills and threads had begun.