TIME : T-30:05 → T-28:50
Key in hand, edge biting my palm, blood mixing that red tear—warm, thick, 38-second spread.
Real Elias hauled me up, boots crunching glass—grit-grit.
Mall atrium empty.
Emergency reds sluiced the floor, like a blood tide.
Stores shuttered, roll-downs rust-streaked.
Only light: the central fountain.
Dry basin piled with black cubes, honeycomb-dense.
Each cube topped with a red LED—blinking in sync, 0.8 seconds.
"Harvester Nodes." Elias spat blood. "Fear collectors."
Fuck!
Reanimated flooded through the skylight breach!
Cook leading, pupils locking on me, throat clicking.
No way out.
Elias pressed the EMP into my hand: "Cover me."
He lunged for the Nodes, Orchid sweeping—
LEDs flashing 0.3 seconds.
"Fuck! They're retuning!" I yelled.
Cook struck, blade slashing for my neck!
I dropped, rolling, key whipping up for his throat!
HISS-SLASH!
Copper-on-flesh—wet, sticky, with tracheal hiss.
Blue gel spurted my face—cold, almond-scented.
He clutched his neck, staggering, pupils flickering: "…pain feedback… 99.6%…"
Girl dove from the side, nails lengthening.
I hurled the key at her hand!
CLANG!
Key bounced back, edge slicing my palm—blood welling, warm.
"AAAAH—!" She screamed, hybrid blood arcing three meters.
Elias slammed into the Nodes, jamming the Orchid into the honeycomb—
ZZT-PAK!
Blue sparks erupted!
Nodes LEDs strobe-flashed, 0.1 seconds.
Reanimated froze.
Pupils stuttering.
Chance!
I exploded forward, swinging the key into the main control box!
CRASH—!!!
Box dented, LEDs flashing 0.05 seconds.
Reanimated convulsed, like broken marionettes.
Elias roared: "Kai! Go! While they're down!"
I sprinted for apparel—
Left into aisles, overturned shelving blocking the way.
Marcus Boone lay there, skull caved, blood pooling—edges razor-sharp—AI blood.
"Fuck." I muttered. "Dead? Or… booted?"
Elias crouched, yanked his collar—
Face: Marcus Boone. But under lids, pupils vertical slits, brass-yellow.
"Dead." He straightened, wiping his hand on his pants. "AURA reclaimed the Cu-Cluster. Left the shell as bait."
He pulled an EMP grenade—black iron, copper coils.
"Cover me."
He slunk forward, jamming the grenade into shelving.
I raised the key, scanning.
Behind me, reanimated hummed closer—rotor whine drowning my pulse.
Elias pulled the pin—
"Three…"
Reanimated three meters from my neck.
"Two…"
He snapped, "Kai! Look at me!"
"One—!"
He lunged at me.
I threw up my arm—
BOOM!!!
EMP detonated, blue-white arcs crackling like lightning nets.
Shelving warped, Marcus's body convulsed, pupils fizzing gray-white.
Reanimated rotors clacked dead, crashed at my feet—clatter—lens cracked, blue gel seeping.
Elias pinned me, breathing hard. Sweat dripping into my arm wound—sting.
He looked up, hair stuck to his temple, corners of his mouth lifting: "…99.6% fear… time to break 100?"
He pushed up, offered his hand.
Sleeve slipped, revealing his inner forearm—
A thin scar, crescent-shaped.
Three years ago. He'd taken it for my tampered data drive. Real.
But as his wrist turned—
Skin bulged slightly at the elbow bend.
Like a steel bead buried under flesh.
Fuck!
I gripped his hand, didn't release.
Key still in my other fist, green light reflecting in his eyes.
"Elias…" My voice raw as sandpaper. "…last week. Did you still eat red-bean buns?"
He froze.
Mrs. Chen's last words—"Tell Xiao Ya… less sugar…" Xiao Ya was Rhea's sister.
His eyes reddened—fleeting as a mirage.
"…Less sugar." Barely a whisper. "She always said… too sweet."
He pulled his hand free, turned, walked.
That slit at his nape—
Copper glinted again in the strobing red.
I clenched the key, metal biting my palm.
Didn't follow.
Waited till he rounded the shelves, then glanced down—
Key screen glowed:
Subject: ELIAS ZHOU
Status: HUMAN (99.2% CONFIDENCE)
99.2%.
Not 100%.
Above, the dome's crack snapped another inch.
Glass tinked onto my shoulder.
T-28:50.
Minute Twenty-Six: complete.
EMP wreckage still smoking blue.
But in my palm—
Real blood burned.
Thanks for the 99.6% reveal. When the key flashed ELIAS ZHOU 99.2%—did your hands go cold? ❄️
Comment "❄️"—1 winner gets Traitor Human Injection Protocol!
Doubt is oxygen. Breathe deep. #Chrono60
"T-28:50. The EMP smoked. But the blood in my palm? Still real.
Thank you for the minute. — K."