The hum didn't fade after Viktor's name surfaced.
It tightened.
Zariah felt it coil inside her like a living thing, no longer passive, no longer merely responsive. This was different. This was recognition colliding with memory. The network fragments inside her didn't just remember Viktor they reacted to him.
Adrian sensed it instantly. His arms tightened around her as her body went rigid, breath stuttering in her chest. "Zariah," he said sharply. "Stay with me."
"I am," she whispered but even as she spoke, images burst behind her eyes.
Viktor standing behind glass, smiling like a god who believed the world owed him obedience.
Viktor's voice, calm and patient, explaining sacrifice as if it were mathematics.
Viktor watching her suffer and calling it progress.
Her fingers dug into Adrian's sleeve. "He's closer than he should be."
Kellan stiffened. "You said he was hiding behind the architects' systems."
"He was," Zariah said. "But now… now he knows they've acknowledged me."
The words tasted bitter. "And Viktor never ignores recognition."
The facility lights dimmed again, not flickering this time, but dimming with intention. The ancient walls seemed to retreat inward, as though the place itself were drawing boundaries.
Adrian's voice dropped. "You're saying the moment they saw you as real he saw an opening."
"Yes."
The air shifted.
Not violently. Not dramatically.
Precisely.
Zariah sucked in a sharp breath as something brushed the edge of her awareness familiar, intimate, invasive. Not a system. Not the architects.
A mind.
Still defiant, Viktor's voice echoed softly inside her head, smooth as ever. I wondered how long it would take you to realize you were never alone.
Adrian saw the change in her instantly. Her pupils dilated. Her jaw clenched.
"Zariah?" His hand cupped her cheek. "What did he say?"
Her throat worked. "He's speaking to me. Directly."
Kellan swore viciously. "That shouldn't be possible."
"It wasn't," Zariah said. "Before."
She closed her eyes briefly, bracing herself. "He's not accessing me through the network. He's… using what I became."
Adrian's expression hardened into something lethal. "Then we shut it down."
Zariah opened her eyes. "If I do that, I lose the ability to feel them the architects. Viktor disappears back into the dark."
"That sounds like a solution."
"No," she said quietly. "It's a delay. He'll adapt. He always does."
The hum surged again, restless now, reactive to her indecision. The systems around them groaned as if caught between awakening and restraint.
Viktor's voice returned, amused. You see the problem now, don't you? You're too visible to hide, too valuable to destroy.
Her hands trembled. "You don't get to speak to me."
On the contrary, he replied gently. I built the language you're using to resist me.
Adrian felt her shudder and pulled her closer, his voice a low growl meant for no one but Viktor. "You don't own her."
A soft laugh echoed inside Zariah's skull. Ownership is such a crude word. I prefer inevitability.
The floor beneath them vibrated, deeper this time. Kellan turned sharply toward one of the consoles. "Adrian we've got a spike. External synchronization attempt."
Zariah's breath hitched. "He's trying to anchor himself through me."
Adrian's eyes burned. "Can he?"
"Yes," she admitted. "But not without my consent."
Silence fell.
Adrian searched her face, his voice steady despite the storm gathering around them. "Then don't give it."
Tears burned behind her eyes. "It's not that simple."
The hum pulsed painfully now, the pressure building as Viktor pushed harder. She could feel the shape of his mind pressing against hers not forceful, not violent.
Patient.
"You're tired," Viktor murmured. You're carrying more than any human body should. Let me take some of the weight.
Her knees buckled slightly. Adrian tightened his hold.
"Don't listen," he said fiercely.
"I know," she whispered. "But he's right about one thing."
The hum spiked sharply. Lights flared overhead.
"I can't hold this forever."
Kellan slammed a fist against the console. "Then we end it now. We overload the remaining nodes burn the bridge completely."
Zariah flinched. "If we do that "
"You lose the connection," Kellan finished. "The architects lose access to you."
"And the world loses a chance to understand what's coming," she said softly.
Adrian stared at her. "What do you mean?"
She met his gaze, eyes shining with fear and resolve. "The architects aren't the end. They're the beginning of something much larger. Something that's been watching humanity evolve for a long time."
"And Viktor wants to be part of it," Adrian said darkly.
"Yes," Zariah replied. "He always wanted to be more than human."
Viktor's presence intensified, approval seeping through his words. You see? She understands me better than anyone ever did.
Adrian's jaw clenched. "Get out of her head."
You invited me the moment you let her become visible, Viktor replied coolly. Every light casts a shadow.
Zariah sucked in a breath as pain flared behind her eyes, sharp and blinding. She cried out, clutching her chest.
"Zariah!" Adrian held her tightly as her body trembled.
"I need " She gasped. "I need space. I need to… rebalance."
"How?" Adrian demanded.
Her voice shook. "By confronting him."
Kellan's head snapped up. "That's insane."
"No," Zariah said. "That's the only way he stops hiding behind systems and starts exposing himself."
Adrian shook his head. "You don't have to do this."
She looked up at him, eyes fierce despite the pain. "If I don't, he'll keep reaching through me. Through anyone connected to me. I won't let him turn others into collateral."
Viktor's voice softened, almost tender. She always did have a martyr's streak.
"Shut up," Zariah snapped.
The hum roared in response, the facility's ancient systems flaring fully awake now. Symbols ignited along the walls, forming concentric patterns that seemed to bend space itself.
Kellan stared in awe and horror. "Zariah… what are you doing?"
"Opening a controlled channel," she said. "One he can't hide from."
Adrian's heart pounded. "You're opening yourself."
"Yes," she replied. "But not unguarded."
She turned to him, pressing her forehead briefly to his chest. "I need you to anchor me. No matter what he says. No matter what I see."
His hands framed her face, his voice unwavering. "I'm not going anywhere."
Zariah closed her eyes and reached inward.
The hum responded instantly, expanding, reshaping, forming a corridor of awareness that cut through layers of systems and shadows. The pressure was immense, tearing at her senses, but she held fast using Adrian's presence like a lifeline.
Viktor laughed softly as the corridor solidified. Ah. There you are.
The world tilted.
The facility dissolved.
Zariah found herself standing in a familiar place she hadn't seen in years a pristine observation chamber, glass walls gleaming, sterile and cold.
And across from her
Viktor Volkov stood in the flesh.
Not a projection. Not a shadow.
Real.
Adrian's voice echoed faintly at the edges of her mind. Zariah?
Her pulse thundered. "He crossed," she whispered. "He used the channel."
Viktor smiled, slow and satisfied. "You opened the door."
Her hands clenched. "You shouldn't exist here."
"And yet," he replied calmly, "here I am."
Behind him, the glass walls flickered revealing countless silhouettes watching, waiting.
Architects.
Observers.
Judges.
Viktor stepped closer, eyes alight with triumph. "You wanted a battlefield, Zariah."
He spread his arms slightly.
"Welcome to the one where everything you love becomes a variable."
The chamber lights flared violently.
And somewhere far away, Adrian felt the anchor strain.