The Relay was three days away.
That number had weight. Every hour between now and the Relay meant more ground for the Pale Warden to close. The cube's last override had lit a beacon, invisible to the eye but not to the Core's machines. Arden had tried to reassure them it would take time for the signal to propagate. Kaelen didn't believe him, and Darrel didn't bother pretending he did either.
The morning after the Ash Road felt colder than it should have. Not just in temperature — there was something in the air, a kind of hollowness that made the ruined city seem less like stone and steel and more like a hollow carcass. They moved in silence, their boots crunching over debris, eyes scanning every shadow.
Darrel's overlay occasionally flickered, displaying harmless environmental data, but he couldn't shake the feeling that somewhere, behind that glassy blue interface, something was watching back.
---
They cut through what had once been a government district — wide boulevards lined with decaying facades, banners long since faded to blank cloth. Kaelen kept them moving in zig-zag patterns, avoiding open space whenever possible. "Wardens like open sightlines," she muttered once, without looking at him.
By midday they found a dry place to stop, an old judicial hall whose marble floor was cracked and buckled but still intact enough to sit on. Arden crouched with the cube, tracing his fingers along its edges as if feeling for a pulse.
Darrel broke the silence. "What happens if the Warden finds us before the Relay?"
Arden's jaw tightened. "You've seen hunters. They're built for efficiency — to tag and eliminate trial participants. But Wardens… Wardens aren't bound by those limits. They don't just kill. They erase."
"Erase?"
"From the system entirely. As if you never existed."
Darrel stared at him. "And you waited until now to tell me?"
Arden didn't answer.
Kaelen, leaning against a cracked pillar, spoke instead. "Because telling you earlier wouldn't have changed a damn thing. The Warden's coming whether you know it or not."
That night, they camped in the skeleton of a half-collapsed subway station. The air was damp, smelling faintly of mildew and rust. Somewhere in the dark, water dripped in irregular intervals, the sound echoing like footsteps.
Darrel took first watch. He sat at the edge of the platform, rifle across his lap, eyes on the empty tunnel. Darkness here felt thicker, the kind that swallowed shapes whole.
Half an hour into his shift, his overlay blinked.
[Signal Trace Detected]
[Range: Unknown]
Darrel's muscles tightened. He glanced toward Arden, sleeping with the cube tucked beneath his coat, then toward Kaelen, curled with her back to the wall.
He kept watching. Minutes passed. Then, faintly, from the tunnel — a sound. Not footsteps. A slow, deliberate scrape, metal on stone. Followed by another. Closer.
He woke them without a word.
They moved fast, abandoning the subway for the open streets above. The wind had picked up, carrying with it the smell of scorched metal. Darrel didn't have to ask if the others smelled it too — Kaelen's expression told him enough.
By dawn, they'd reached the edge of the industrial quarter. Here, massive factories loomed like sleeping giants, their windows gaping, their interiors black and cold. A tangle of overhead pipes crisscrossed the streets, dripping water that splattered on the cracked asphalt.
They ducked into one of the factories to rest — a cavernous space filled with rusted machinery. Shafts of pale light streamed through holes in the roof, cutting the dust into visible layers.
That's when they heard it.
Not from outside this time. From within.
A deep, resonant hum, low enough to feel in the bones. It came from the shadows beyond the central floor, from behind a massive assembly press that had not moved in decades.
Kaelen's hand went to her dagger. Arden's went to the cube.
Darrel's rifle was already in his grip.
The Pale Warden stepped into the light.
It was taller than he'd imagined — close to three meters, its frame a blend of polished obsidian plating and exposed, sinewy machinery that pulsed with faint blue light. Its "head" was a smooth, oval shell, featureless except for a vertical slit that burned with a cold, white glow. Its movements were unnervingly quiet for something so large.
[Core Enforcement Unit – PALE WARDEN]
[Engagement Protocol: Not Recommended]
Darrel's breath slowed. Every instinct screamed to run, but the factory's exits were too far. The Warden had already positioned itself between them and the main doors.
It didn't rush. It didn't need to. It simply began to walk forward, each step deliberate, the floor trembling under its weight.
"Arden," Kaelen said quietly, "now would be the time to use that thing."
Arden's hands were already on the cube, but his face was pale. "It's… interfering. I can't get a stable link. It's suppressing the signal."
The Warden stopped. Its head tilted, almost curious. Then the slit of white light flared.
The world exploded.
---
Darrel hit the ground hard, ears ringing. The Warden hadn't fired a weapon — it had emitted some kind of shockwave, invisible but devastating. The air itself had seemed to slam into them.
Kaelen was already moving, darting to the side, using the factory's machinery as cover. Arden scrambled toward a stack of crates, cube clutched tight.
Darrel rolled to his feet and fired. Bullets sparked off the Warden's armor, leaving shallow dents at best. It didn't even flinch.
The slit of light turned toward him.
He dove behind a support pillar just as another shockwave ripped through the space, the impact cracking the pillar's surface.
"Arden!" he shouted. "Any time now!"
"I told you — it's suppressing the cube!" Arden's voice was frantic. "I need a boost — I need—"
Kaelen appeared from the side, sliding a short blade across the Warden's left leg. Sparks burst, but the machine barely reacted. It swung an arm the size of a steel beam, catching her mid-air. She slammed into a wall with a sound Darrel didn't want to think about.
Something in him snapped.
He broke from cover, sprinting toward the Warden, rifle up. He didn't aim for its armor this time — he aimed for the vertical slit. The first two shots missed. The third hit dead center.
The Warden jerked back a fraction. Not much, but enough.
Arden's voice cut through the chaos. "Do it again!"
Darrel fired, each shot striking the same point. The slit flickered.
Arden slammed his palm against the cube.
[System Override – Forced Entry]
[Local Suppression Field: Disabled]
The cube flared with amber light, casting long shadows across the factory. The Warden's movements stuttered, as if its systems had skipped a beat.
"Now!" Arden yelled.
Kaelen, battered but on her feet, drove her dagger deep into the seam at the back of its neck. The Warden convulsed, the white light in its slit dimming.
But it wasn't done.
With terrifying speed, it reached back, grabbing Kaelen and hurling her aside. Its chest plates shifted, opening to reveal a core that burned with blinding energy.
Darrel didn't think — he acted.
He grabbed the cube from Arden's hands, pressing it to the rifle. The overlay lit up with cascading code, and suddenly he understood — not the language, but the intent.
He aimed at the core.
Pulled the trigger.
---
The shot wasn't like before. The bullet shimmered, leaving a streak of light in its wake. When it hit, the Warden's core erupted in a storm of fractured energy, the sound like glass breaking inside a hurricane.
The machine staggered, its limbs locking. Then, with a final, ear-splitting metallic cry, it collapsed.
The silence after was almost worse.
Darrel stood over the fallen Warden, chest heaving. Its white slit was dark now, its frame still. But he knew — this wasn't over. If the Core had sent one Warden, it could send more.
Kaelen limped toward him, blood on her temple but eyes steady. "You just painted a bigger target on our backs."
Arden retrieved the cube from Darrel's hands, his expression unreadable. "Maybe. But we're still alive."
Darrel looked down at the machine's shattered core.
"For now."