The alarms came back to life all at once.
Red lights flooded the archive chamber, drowning the walls in warning glow as a low siren began to howl through Genesis Tower's underground levels. The sound wasn't panicked—it was controlled, measured. The kind of alarm designed for containment failures, not evacuations.
Lena looked up from her tablet sharply. "They've reactivated the internal grid. We tripped something when we accessed the parental files."
Jax snorted. "Of course we did. Nothing says 'please come kill us' like uncovering the truth."
Ethan was already moving.
"Copy everything," he said. "All Genesis data. Especially anything tied to Helios Blacksite."
"I'm on it," Lena replied, fingers flying. "But Ethan—this much encrypted data will take time."
"You have sixty seconds."
"That's not—"
"Sixty," Ethan repeated, calm but absolute.
The floor vibrated beneath their feet.
Heavy.
Rhythmic.
Not an explosion.
Footsteps.
Jax leaned toward the corridor, rifle raised. "Company's coming. And judging by the sound of it, they didn't send interns."
Ethan turned his head slightly. "How many?"
Jax listened, eyes narrowing. "Eight. Maybe more. And… something else. Bigger."
Ethan exhaled slowly.
Genesis Tower wasn't done with them.
"Lena," he said, "when you're done, burn the archive."
She looked up. "Burn it?"
"Every server. Every backup. Every trace. If Synapse-9 wants Genesis back, they'll have to dig through ashes."
Her jaw tightened. "Understood."
The footsteps grew louder.
Then—
The corridor lights cut out.
Darkness swallowed the entrance.
Jax muttered, "I hate when they do that."
The first enemy stepped into view.
Not a prototype.
Not a drone.
A man.
Tall. Broad. Clad in matte-black armor laced with faint crimson lines. His helmet was sleek, faceless except for a narrow visor glowing blood-red.
Behind him, seven more figures emerged in formation.
Elite units.
Lena's voice dropped. "Ethan… those are Wardens."
Jax hissed. "Tell me that's not what I think it is."
"It is," Lena replied grimly. "Synapse-9's highest enforcement division. They don't hunt targets. They erase them."
The lead Warden spoke, voice amplified and distorted.
"Subject 01. You are in violation of Directive Genesis."
Ethan stepped forward into the red light, unafraid.
"You murdered my parents," he said. "You experimented on children. You built monsters and called it progress."
The Warden tilted his head slightly. "Correction. We advanced humanity."
Ethan's eyes burned silver.
"No," he said. "You buried it."
The Warden raised his arm.
"Terminate."
The Wardens moved as one.
Gunfire erupted—precise, controlled bursts. Not wild. Not wasteful.
Professional.
Ethan surged forward.
The first volley tore through where he'd been standing a second earlier. He slid across the floor, came up inside the formation, and struck.
A Warden swung a baton crackling with energy.
Ethan caught it.
The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the chamber, shattering nearby glass. Ethan twisted, ripped the baton from the man's grip, and drove it into the Warden's chest.
The armor absorbed most of the force—but not all.
The man crashed into a pillar and didn't get up.
Jax opened fire from the flank, laying suppressive shots. "Lena! Time!"
"Thirty seconds!" she shouted back.
Two Wardens rushed Ethan simultaneously. One came high, one low.
Ethan vaulted over the low strike, grabbed the second attacker mid-air, and slammed him face-first into the floor hard enough to crack the plating beneath them.
The first Warden fired point-blank.
Ethan twisted.
The bullet grazed his shoulder instead of his heart.
Pain flared—but he didn't slow.
He elbowed the Warden's helmet, then followed with a knee to the chest that sent the man flying backward.
But the Wardens adapted fast.
They spread out.
Encircled.
The lead Warden raised his hand again.
The crimson lines in their armor pulsed brighter.
Lena screamed, "Ethan—energy spike! They're synchronizing!"
Too late.
A concussive wave detonated outward, slamming Ethan into the far wall. He crashed through a console, sparks exploding around him. His vision blurred.
Jax shouted his name.
Ethan pushed himself up, blood dripping from his lip.
"You done?" he growled.
The Wardens charged again.
Before they reached him—
The floor shook violently.
A deep, familiar thump echoed through the sublevels.
Thump.
Thump.
Ethan froze.
"No…" Lena whispered.
From behind the shattered containment area, something moved.
A blue glow flared.
Genesis-01's chest lit up again.
The body twitched.
Then rose.
The Wardens halted immediately.
The lead Warden turned toward it. "Genesis Core reactivated."
Genesis-01's head lifted slowly.
Its eyes glowed brighter than before.
It looked at the Wardens.
Then at Ethan.
Its voice echoed through the chamber—clearer now. Stronger.
"MERGE… INCOMPLETE."
Ethan's heart pounded.
Jax stared. "Please tell me that thing is on our side."
Genesis-01 stepped forward.
It raised its arm—
—and struck the nearest Warden with terrifying force.
The impact vaporized the armor.
The man was thrown across the room like scrap metal.
Chaos exploded.
Wardens opened fire on Genesis-01. Energy rounds slammed into its body—but it barely flinched. It moved through them like a force of nature, tearing through elite soldiers as if they were paper.
Ethan watched, stunned.
"It's protecting me," he realized.
"No," Lena said urgently. "It's protecting the merge protocol. You're the other half."
Genesis-01 turned toward Ethan again.
It took a step closer.
Ethan felt the pull instantly—like gravity twisting inward. His vision blurred as something reached for his mind.
"No," he growled, backing away. "I'm not your missing piece."
The creature stopped.
Its voice softened.
"…Ethan."
The Wardens fell back, regrouping.
The lead Warden raised his weapon at Ethan.
"Subject 01. Accept the merge. Or we eliminate all remaining variables."
Lena shouted, "Ethan, I've copied everything! But the archive is still live!"
Ethan made a decision.
"Blow it," he said.
"What?" Jax barked.
"Now."
Lena slammed the command.
The archive pillars overloaded.
White light consumed the chamber.
Genesis data burned.
The floor ruptured.
The ceiling cracked.
Genesis Tower began to collapse from the inside.
Genesis-01 screamed.
Not in rage—
In loss.
Ethan turned and ran.
"MOVE!" he shouted.
They sprinted for the exit as explosions tore through the sublevels. Wardens were buried under falling debris. Fire roared through corridors.
Behind them, Genesis-01 reached out—
Then vanished in the collapse.
The tower screamed as it began to fall.
They burst into the night air just as the ground behind them caved in.
Genesis Tower imploded, folding inward like a dying star.
Silence followed.
Ash drifted down over Neo-Seoul.
Ethan stood there, chest heaving, watching the place where his life had been stolen finally disappear.
Lena stepped beside him. "It's over."
Ethan shook his head slowly.
"No," he said. "Genesis is gone."
He turned toward the distant horizon.
"But Helios Blacksite isn't."
Jax cracked a tired smile. "Then let's go pay them a visit."
Ethan clenched his fists, eyes reflecting the burning skyline.
"For my parents," he said.
And somewhere far away—
A signal pulsed once.
Still alive.