For the first time in sixty-eight days, the rain stopped.
Cities buried in ash blinked into pale golden light. Survivors—scattered, mutated, hiding beneath rotted concrete—stared upward in disbelief. Children born beneath red clouds cried out at the sky, unknowing but instinctively afraid of the warmth.
And somewhere deep in the Rockies, an old man with more scars than skin whispered, "He did it."
The world had shifted.
Atop the ruined drop ship now parked at an outpost cliff, Marcus watched the sunrise, his system flickering quietly in the background.
[System Update: Atmospheric Interference Reduced – Network Integrity Restored: 31%][Warning: External Signal Detected – Architect Transmission Source Traced]
He narrowed his eyes.
"So they know."
Behind him, Ember leaned against the fuselage, arms crossed. "The Beacon's down, but we're not celebrating."
Lucien joined them, chewing on jerky. "Because we just poked a sleeping god in the eye."
Astra descended from the ship's deck, holding a glowing shard of what remained from the Herald Marcus had fought. "It sent a distress call before you destroyed it. A quantum pulse."
"To the Architects," Marcus said.
She nodded grimly. "They heard you."
[Incoming Transmission: Language Unknown | Translating...][MESSAGE BEGINS]
"Deviation detected. Catalyst remains noncompliant. Uplink reformat commencing. Stage Two will initiate in T-minus 72 hours. The Harvest must proceed."
[MESSAGE ENDS]
Lucien spat. "That sounds friendly."
Astra's tone was dry. "Stage Two is the second phase of atmospheric reclamation. The one that doesn't convert humanity. It erases it."
[New Global Objective: Prevent Stage Two Initialization]
Marcus clenched his jaw. "How do we stop it?"
Astra handed him the shard.
"You don't stop it. You beat it to the next target. The other Beacons are waking up. If we reach them before the signal does, we can disable them manually. But the window is tight."
[Available Beacons: 4 Remaining – Locations Locked Until Uplink Expansion Achieved]
"I'll do it," Marcus said.
Lucien raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"
"I've been sure since the day I didn't die with the others."
He turned, walking toward the vault's edge, overlooking a world on the edge of rebirth.
"This planet gave up on itself. But I didn't. And I won't."
From above, satellites flickered. One of them—unnaturally shaped, ringed with crystalline antennae—rotated once.
A single, slit-shaped lens began to glow.
Far away in the stratosphere, a second Beacon ignited.
The game was no longer survival.
It was a race.