Two weeks passed like a blur of sleepless nights and quiet obsession.
Kael barely noticed the days anymore. The light outside his quarters changed from dusk to dawn and back again, but he never stopped working. His mind was consumed by one thing — building the first version of Sentinel.
Not the final construct. Not yet. Just something that could breathe. Think. React.
A prototype.
He called it the First Pattern.
The Core offered no assistance beyond the usual cryptic reminder pulsing through his mind whenever he asked for guidance.
"Completion of the foundation must be achieved through human cognition. Assistance restricted."
In other words, he was on his own.
Kael had learned to stop arguing with it. The Core seemed intent on testing him — forcing him to rely on his own ability before it revealed its deeper layers. So he took the hint and focused on what he could control.
The 10 percent cognitive amplification the Core had granted him earlier still echoed in his nerves. For a day, he had been unconscious, the sheer flood of information nearly burning through his brain. When he woke, everything was sharper — language, math, the subtle symphony of code.
He hated to admit it, but it had worked.
And now, Sentinel was alive.
Not in the way living things were. But in the way machines dream.
A web of code and logic that could scan, detect, and seal vulnerabilities across connected systems faster than any human could. It wasn't elegant, but it functioned — a ghost built to guard.
Kael leaned back in his chair and exhaled slowly as the screen flickered.Process complete.
The first version was ready.
The Core's voice stirred faintly in his mind.
"Progress: 50 percent."
Halfway.
He stared at the holographic console, his reflection ghosted in its light. The next challenge was obvious — testing it.
The options rolled through his mind.
He could attempt to breach one of the major networks that ruled the city — Aethernet, Titan Systems, or SolariCorp. They were giants of data security, heavily fortified and ruthless toward intruders. If Sentinel could pierce even one layer of their defense, it would prove its worth instantly.
Or he could test on smaller independent grids — city management networks, personal drones, or freelance communication hubs. Safer, but with little real challenge.
And then there was the third route — the underground testing circuit, The Nexus. A virtual battlefield where technomancers and data ghosts clashed for dominance. Hidden sponsors, military observers, and syndicate scouts all watched from the shadows. Winning there meant recognition. It also meant exposure.
Kael rubbed his temples. "So... either risk obscurity or risk becoming a target."
A chime interrupted his thoughts.
Incoming call.
He glanced at the name flashing across the screen and felt a faint smirk tug at his lips.
Lira Vale.
He hadn't expected her to call. Not yet. Not this soon.
He answered. "Miss Vale. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
For a moment, only silence filled the line — then a hesitant voice, soft but steady. "I hope I'm not disturbing you. You sounded... busy last time we spoke."
"Only slightly," he said, leaning back. "Are you calling about business, or is this the part where you tell me my processor exploded?"
A quiet laugh slipped through, light but genuine. "Neither. I just... remembered you said you were working on something experimental. I thought maybe you'd want to discuss it. Or at least take a break before you burn out."
Kael blinked. That was new.
She had always been polite, cautious, even distant. For her to reach out like this — it meant trust. A fragile bridge, but a bridge nonetheless.
"Well," he said after a pause, "I won't say no. Where are you?"
"There's a little tea house on the eastern promenade," she replied. "Not fancy, but quiet. I'm on my break."
"I'll be there soon," he said.
"Good," she answered softly. "And Kael... don't bring any of your machines this time."
The call ended with a faint chime.
Kael stared at the darkened screen, then glanced at Sentinel's interface — a living maze of data streams and digital breath.
"Your trial will have to wait," he murmured. "There's another experiment I need to run first."
He closed the terminal and rose from his chair.
Across the city, Lira ended the call, a quiet smile tugging at her lips.
Her coworker, Aria, leaned over the counter with a grin that could split mountains. "Did you just call him?"
Lira flushed, shaking her head. "It's not what you think. We're just talking."
Aria gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. "The Golden Architect, reduced to blushing like a schoolgirl! History is being rewritten as we speak!"
"Aria!" Lira hissed, but the other woman only laughed harder, darting away before she could retaliate.
"Don't be late for your not-date, Miss Architect!"
Lira covered her face with a sigh, though the smile beneath her hands refused to fade.
Outside, the city's lights shimmered against the rising dusk — and somewhere within that glow, Kael was already on his way.
Neither of them knew it yet, but this quiet meeting would become the spark that set the course for everything that followed.
For the first time since his return, Kael would not be alone in building the future.