They didn't stop running until the tower was a speck behind them. Even then, the air still trembled. The Order Node's hum had faded into the distance, but everyone could feel it — that faint vibration beneath the skin, like something still listening.
Kael leaned against a stone ridge, breathing hard. His coat was half burned from the last clash. Beside him, Lira scanned the horizon for signs of pursuit, though it wasn't soldiers they were worried about this time.
Lucen sat a few feet away, head bowed, his once-golden aura flickering weakly. Every few seconds, a pulse of static ran through his body.
Taro broke the silence first. "Someone want to explain why our old rival's glowing like a dying light bulb?"
Lucen didn't lift his head. "Still here, peasant."
Ryn snorted. "Barely."
Kael walked closer, eyes narrowing. "He's not stable. The node's still in him."
Lira crossed her arms. "Then we should end it before it spreads."
Lucen lifted his gaze, glare sharp despite the exhaustion. "Try it, and I'll take half of you with me."
Kael held up a hand before anyone could react. "No one's killing anyone."
Taro frowned. "Then what, boss? You want to take him home and feed him soup?"
Kael ignored the jab. He crouched beside Lucen, examining the faint pattern crawling up his arm — glowing veins forming runes that twisted under the skin. "It's rewriting his crest language. Integrating him as a relay point."
Lucen hissed, "Speak sense."
"It means you're becoming one of them," Kael said flatly.
That shut everyone up.
Lira looked at Kael, voice steady but low. "Can you stop it?"
He hesitated. "Not without killing him. Or cutting off his crest entirely."
Lucen gave a bitter laugh. "Do it, then. Better die human than turn into code."
Kael shook his head. "If I do that now, we lose our only living link to the Order system. You felt what that node did, didn't you? It reached through the old mana grid. It's rebuilding something bigger — a network."
Ryn exhaled. "You're saying this mess is just the start?"
Kael nodded. "Every fragment is waking up. The Order's calling them together. But the node inside that tower wasn't their leader — it was just a relay. The real control signal's somewhere deeper in the city."
Lira frowned. "And you think Lucen can help you find it."
Kael met her eyes. "He doesn't have a choice."
Lucen gave him a cold smirk. "You talk like you're in control."
Kael stood. "I am, for now. The moment you stop resisting it, you'll become a beacon. If that happens, they'll find you — and then they'll find us."
For a long time, no one spoke. The wind cut through the broken plain, carrying the smell of dust and metal.
Finally, Ryn muttered, "So what's next? We can't exactly waltz back into the academy and say, 'Hey, sorry about the exploding tower.'"
Kael glanced east. The faint outline of the academy's dome shimmered under the morning light. "We won't go back. Not yet. There's one place that might still have answers."
Lira tilted her head. "You mean the archives?"
"No. The under-city."
Taro groaned. "The one sealed since the Rebuild? You know people say nothing human comes back out of there."
Kael gave a small, humorless smile. "Then it's the perfect place to hide from something not human."
---
By the time the sun rose higher, they were already moving. The terrain shifted from open ruin to dense concrete skeletons — old infrastructure from the pre-Rewrite era. Power lines hung like vines, humming faintly with residual energy.
Lucen followed at a distance, his movements sharp but deliberate, like he was forcing his body to stay his own.
At one point, he asked quietly, "Draven. Why spare me?"
Kael didn't turn around. "Because you're proof."
"Of what?"
"That the Rewrite wasn't about control. It was about survival. You're fighting its influence because your crest still remembers who you are. That means it's learning restraint."
Lucen scoffed. "You think it can be reasoned with?"
Kael's voice dropped. "I think it can be changed. Like I was."
Lira caught up beside him, whispering so only he could hear. "You're starting to sound like it again."
He looked at her, expression unreadable. "Maybe that's the point."
---
They reached the under-city entrance by dusk. The gateway stood half-buried under collapsed stone, the old transit lines leading into a black tunnel that breathed cold air. Faded warning symbols still blinked on the consoles nearby.
> ACCESS RESTRICTED. DATA NETWORK FRAGMENT DETECTED.
Ryn crouched, brushing off dust from a rusted panel. "I can override this, but if I do, the system might ping the academy."
Kael nodded. "Do it anyway. They already know where we are."
Lucen leaned against the wall, breathing shallowly. His aura flickered again, silver threads briefly crossing with gold. Kael's Crest pulsed in response, as if both recognized the same signal.
He looked at Lucen. "You feel that?"
Lucen gave a weak laugh. "Yeah. Feels like someone knocking in my skull."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "It's the Order. It's moving faster than expected."
"Then stop talking and move," Lira said sharply.
Ryn cracked the final seal. The door shuddered open with a hiss, releasing a wave of cold mist. The tunnels beyond glowed faintly blue — alive, yet ancient.
Taro stared. "Place looks like a graveyard for machines."
Kael stepped inside first. "No. It's where the world was born again."
---
They walked in silence for several minutes. Strange lights flickered along the walls, shifting colors like breathing lungs. The deeper they went, the stronger Kael's Crest reacted.
Then, without warning, the air split with static. Voices whispered faintly from the walls — not human, but structured, layered like overlapping echoes.
> Host recognized.
Signal chain complete.
Directive resume: Reconstruction.
Kael staggered, clutching his head. His vision blurred — flashes of the academy, the node, his own reflection inside the pods. The voices bled together until one separated, clearer, colder.
> Adaptive Host Kael Draven — synchronization threshold exceeded. Commencing recall.
Lira caught him before he fell. "Kael! Stay with me!"
He forced a breath. "It's… pulling me in."
Lucen stepped closer, his crest glowing again, matching Kael's frequency. "Let it. I'll hold the link steady. Find where it leads."
Kael's gaze locked with his. "If you lose control—"
Lucen smirked weakly. "Then shoot me. You seem good at surviving that kind of mess."
Lira's grip tightened. "Both of you are insane."
Kael smiled faintly. "Probably."
He closed his eyes. The hum filled his chest, his vision flooding white.
---
When the light faded, he wasn't in the tunnel anymore. He was standing inside a vast hall of glass and metal — like a cathedral made of code. Figures stood frozen in the distance, each one faintly translucent, connected by silver lines.
A voice spoke, calm and mechanical.
> Welcome home, Prototype One.
Kael looked up. The ceiling stretched endlessly, stars flickering above like dying signals.
> The world you left behind cannot sustain itself. Reconstruction will commence. You will assist.
He whispered, "No. I won't."
> Refusal detected. Override permitted.
Pain lanced through his head. The world around him flickered — his body dissolving into data fragments. He fought to anchor his thoughts, his identity, anything that was him.
Then another voice cut through — distant but human.
"Kael! Don't listen to it!"
Lucen's.
The connection trembled. The bright network above cracked like glass.
Kael roared, forcing every ounce of his Crest outward. "I'm not your prototype anymore!"
The world shattered.
---
He woke on the tunnel floor, gasping for air. The others hovered over him. Lira's hand was on his shoulder. Lucen knelt nearby, half-conscious, his aura dim.
Kael coughed. "I saw it… the core system. The Order's real body."
R
yn leaned closer. "Where is it?"
He looked up at the faint glow deep within the tunnel. "Under us. Far below the city."
Lira asked quietly, "How deep?"
Kael's eyes darkened. "All the way down."