The silence after the break felt unnatural.
Not peaceful wrong.
Zariah lay against Adrian's chest, her breathing finally slowing, but her body still trembled in aftershocks. Whatever had tried to force its way through her was gone, severed cleanly, yet the absence it left behind felt louder than the invasion itself.
Like standing in a room after an explosion ears ringing, heart racing, waiting to find out what had been destroyed.
Adrian didn't loosen his hold on her.
Not even when minutes passed.
Not even when the safehouse lights stabilized and the hum of its systems returned to a low, cautious rhythm.
He stayed still, one arm wrapped firmly around her shoulders, the other braced against the floor as if anchoring both of them to the present.
"You're safe," he said quietly.
Zariah swallowed. "For now."
He didn't correct her.
She shifted slightly, pulling back just enough to look at him. His expression was composed again—controlled, sharp but she could see the fracture beneath it. A thin crack running through the man who never allowed himself to bend.
"You felt it too," she said softly.
Adrian met her gaze. "Yes."
"That wasn't just interference," she continued. "It was coordination. Multiple nodes acting as one."
"I know."
"And you still let me open myself to it."
His jaw tightened. "You didn't give me a choice."
She frowned. "You always have a choice."
He shook his head once. "Not when it comes to you."
The words landed heavier than he probably intended.
Zariah's chest tightened painfully. "That's not protection, Adrian. That's a risk."
"So is pretending you can face this alone," he countered.
Silence stretched between them, thick with truths neither of them had room to unpack.
Zariah pushed herself upright slowly, her limbs still weak but obeying her. The world felt sharper now less chaotic than before, but heavier. Like she was carrying weight she hadn't earned yet couldn't put down.
"They're not just hunting me anymore," she said quietly. "They're positioning."
Adrian stood, offering her a hand. She took it, letting him pull her to her feet.
"Meaning?" he asked.
"They want to force a decision," she replied. "Flight or compliance."
His eyes darkened. "They won't get either."
Zariah looked around the safehouse the bare walls, the hidden panels, the reinforced steel that had once felt like refuge.
"It's not enough anymore," she said.
Adrian followed her gaze. "I know."
She turned back to him. "We can't keep reacting. They're learning every time I use what's inside me."
"Yes."
"And if I keep activating under pressure," she continued, voice tight, "that failsafe Mara warned us about"
"We won't let it trigger," Adrian said sharply.
Zariah shook her head. "You don't get to decide that either."
He went still.
"That's not fair," he said quietly.
"Neither is being turned into a contingency plan for the world," she replied.
They stared at each other, tension coiling tightly between them.
Then Zariah took a breath.
"I think we need to go on the offensive."
Adrian's eyes narrowed. "Explain."
She closed her eyes briefly, steadying herself. "They're watching for spikes. For chaos. For desperation."
"Yes."
"So we give them something controlled," she said. "Something deliberate."
Adrian studied her carefully. "You want to bait them."
"I want to choose the battlefield," she corrected.
A dangerous silence followed.
"That would put you directly in their line of sight," Adrian said.
"I'm already there," she replied softly. "They just don't know what I'm capable of yet."
His expression hardened. "And you do?"
"No," she admitted. "But I'm learning."
Too fast.
Too soon.
He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "This isn't training anymore, Zariah. This is war."
She met his gaze steadily. "Then stop treating me like collateral."
That hit.
He turned away briefly, jaw clenched, then faced her again.
"You're asking me to trust something I can't control," he said.
She stepped closer. "That makes two of us."
For a long moment, neither moved.
Then Adrian nodded once.
"Alright," he said. "But we do this my way."
She raised an eyebrow. "I thought we weren't controlling anymore."
"This isn't control," he replied. "It's containment."
A sharp sound interrupted them an alert pulsing through the room.
Zariah stiffened. "That's not external."
Adrian moved instantly to the console. "No. It's internal."
The screen flickered, then resolved into encrypted data streams she hadn't seen before.
Her breath caught.
"I didn't activate anything," she whispered.
"You didn't have to," Adrian said grimly.
The system began unfolding automatically layers peeling back like a lock responding to a key it recognized.
Zariah felt it resonate inside her.
"Oh no," she breathed. "They triggered a passive response."
Adrian swore. "What kind?"
Her face went pale. "A broadcast."
"Of what?"
"Of me."
The room seemed to tilt.
Adrian's hands flew over the controls, trying to shut it down. "Can you stop it?"
"I don't know," she said, panic creeping into her voice. "It's not an outbound signal. It's… an invitation."
The screens lit up one by one coordinates, encrypted pings, dormant systems awakening across multiple regions.
"They're calling everything connected to my father's work," she whispered. "All of it."
Adrian turned sharply. "Zariah"
"I didn't mean to," she said, tears burning her eyes. "I swear I didn't."
He crossed the room in two strides, gripping her shoulders firmly. "Look at me."
She did, shaking.
"This is not your fault," he said fiercely. "This is what they planned."
"But I opened the door," she whispered.
"No," he corrected. "You survived long enough to matter."
The broadcast reached critical mass.
Zariah gasped as a sudden, violent wave of awareness slammed into her too many connections, too many eyes, too much demand.
Her knees buckled.
Adrian caught her as she cried out, her body arching as something inside her strained violently.
"Adrian," she sobbed. "I can't hold it all."
"Yes, you can," he said urgently. "Stay with me."
She clutched him desperately. "If this keeps expanding"
"I know," he said.
"And if I lose control"
"Then we adapt," he said fiercely.
A sharp crack echoed through the safehouse as a hidden wall panel exploded inward.
Adrian spun, weapon raised instantly.
Figures poured in fast, coordinated, masked.
Not Kellan's style.
Something worse.
Adrian fired, dragging Zariah back as chaos erupted around them. Gunfire thundered. Alarms screamed.
Zariah screamed as the pressure inside her surged uncontrollably.
"I can't...Adrian...I can't.."
He shoved her behind cover. "Do not let it fully open!"
"I don't know how to close it!"
"Then narrow it," he shouted. "Focus on one thing. One person."
Her vision blurred.
One face rose through the chaos.
Kellan.
Her breath caught.
The broadcast locked.
The pressure stabilized but something else snapped into place.
Zariah felt it.
A door opening somewhere deep and irreversible.
And in that moment, she knew....
This wasn't just about survival anymore.
It was about what she was becoming.
And whether the world would survive her.