The alarms had begun screaming long before she reached the sterile white chamber of War Lab 7. Red emergency lights pulsed along the corridor as Ryu Hana sprinted through the smoke, clutching a swaddled infant to her chest as if her life depended on it—because it did.
Behind her, the heavy metallic thud of armoured boots grew louder.
"Security breach detected. Lethal force authorized," a synthesized voice echoed through the halls.
Hana didn't slow. She slammed her palm against the entrance scanner, forcing it open in a shower of sparks. The moment she was inside, the lone object at the room's center came to life.
A hovering cradle of alloy petals.
A core of pale blue light rotating within.
The Spinal Nexus Core.
Her breath was trembling. "Please… let this work."
The infant in her arms didn't cry. He blinked up at her with wide, curious eyes--eyes which had never seen sunlight outside of the Technocracy's sterile walls.
Hana laid him carefully upon the insertion platform, and mechanical arms unfolded around him like the limbs of a metal flower, humming softly.
A cold voice rang out:
"Warning: Implantation of Prototype Nexus Core in an under-developed host is strictly forbidden."
"I know." Her fingers flew across the console, overriding safeguards she herself had once built.
"Authorization code: Theta–Seven–Seorin."
A beat of silence.
"Override accepted."
A beam of white light descended upon the child. Thin threads of nanofibers reached toward his spine like veins glowing with soft light. The room vibrated as energy surged, resonating with the tiny body that lay on the table.
The door behind her exploded open.
"Halt!" a soldier shouted. "Operator Ryu Hana, you are under arrest for treason and temporal contamination!"
Hana ignored them, hissing urgently:
"Bitte… synchronisieren."
The child's back arched as the Nexus latched onto his spine, light crawling under his skin in glowing blue streams. The machine chimed:
"Implantation successful. Host synchronization at 11%… 12%… 13%…"
"Hana!"
The lead officer stepped forward, raising his rifle.
"Step away from the infant. The prototype belongs to the Technocracy."
She turned, her eyes blazing.
"He's my son."
"That child is now a temporal-class weapon!" the officer barked.
"You have no right—"
"I have every right!" she screamed, shielding the infant as sparks rained from the ruptured door.
"I will not let you turn him into a machine!"
Her hand slammed down on the final switch.
A vortex of golden energy ripped open behind her, unstable, roaring, distorting the air around it.
The soldiers stumbled backward.
"You activated the Temporal Gate?! You'll tear this entire district apart!"
"Then stop me," Hana whispered.
The officer fired.
The explosion ripped through her shoulder-but she did not fall. She lurched towards the swirling golden rift, clutching her child with her uninjured arm. "Hana! Don't do this!" "That era is unregulated!" "You'll never survive—neither will he!" She glanced over her shoulder for a final time, with pain and defiance in her eyes. "That's okay," she whispered. "In that world… he can live." The vortex swallowed her whole. The light collapsed. The alarms died. And the future lost a weapon— while the past garnered a legend that waited to awaken.