They didn't come all at once.
That was the mistake everyone made when they imagined enemies thinking danger announced itself loudly, violently, in numbers too large to count. But the real hunt never began with noise.
It began with absence.
The chamber remained sealed, the breach repaired so cleanly it was as if the stone had never cracked. No alarms. No red lights. No emergency protocols screaming for attention.
Just a stillness that pressed against the chest.
Zariah felt it first.
Not through sight or sound, but through the subtle wrongness in the air the way the world held its breath, waiting to see what she would do next.
"They're pulling back," she murmured.
Adrian's arms were still around her, firm, grounding, his presence the only thing keeping the tremor out of her limbs. "That doesn't sound like good news."
"It isn't." Her fingers curled weakly into his coat. "They're adjusting."
Kellan ran both hands through his hair, pacing a tight line across the chamber. "I'm seeing it too. External chatter just… vanished. No signals, no probes, no digital noise at all."
Adrian's jaw tightened. "They're going dark."
Zariah nodded slowly. "Because they've realized something."
She lifted her gaze, meeting Adrian's eyes fully now. There was exhaustion there bone-deep, undeniable but beneath it burned something sharper. Clearer.
"They can't take what I've become," she said. "So they're changing the rules."
Adrian didn't like the way that sounded. "To what?"
"Personal," Kellan answered quietly.
Silence followed.
Adrian exhaled slowly, careful not to let his fear show. "Then we move. We don't stay here."
"We can't," Kellan said. "This chamber is shielded, but not invisible. The moment we leave "
"They'll feel it," Zariah finished. "Yes."
She shifted, bracing herself against Adrian's chest as she forced her body to cooperate. Pain lanced through her skull, sharp enough to steal her breath, but she didn't cry out. She wouldn't give the weakness a voice.
Adrian felt it anyway. "You're not ready."
"I don't get to be," she replied softly.
Kellan stopped pacing. "Zariah… whatever you did back there it worked. But it cost you. You fractured your own perception. You're operating without a center."
She looked at him calmly. "I know."
"That's not sustainable."
Her lips curved faintly. "Neither was letting them own me."
Adrian lowered his forehead to hers, voice dropping. "You don't have to do this alone."
Her eyes softened at that but only for a moment. "I know. That's what scares them."
The chamber lights dimmed again, this time not ominously but deliberately power redistribution, silent and precise. Zariah felt the shift ripple outward, not from her, but around her.
"They're testing boundaries," she said. "Mapping influence."
Kellan checked his tablet. "I'm seeing micro-adjustments in infrastructure we don't even control. Transit grids. Private surveillance nets. Financial backdoors."
Adrian looked at Zariah sharply. "That's you?"
She shook her head. "That's them reacting to me."
A shiver ran down his spine.
"You've become a variable," Kellan said. "They can't predict you."
"And they hate that," Zariah added.
She straightened slightly, pulling out of Adrian's hold just enough to stand on her own. Her legs trembled, but she didn't fall.
Adrian stayed close. Always close.
"We need a decoy," Kellan said suddenly.
Both of them turned to him.
"A decoy?" Adrian repeated.
"Yes," Kellan said. "They're going to hunt Zariah directly now. Not the system. Not the infrastructure. Her. That means we give them something else to chase."
Zariah's gaze sharpened. "You."
Kellan smiled grimly. "I can be loud."
"No," Adrian snapped. "Absolutely not."
Kellan held his ground. "Adrian, listen to me. They already know about you. About me. About all of us. The difference is "
"They don't know where you end," Zariah said quietly. "And where I begin."
Kellan nodded. "Exactly."
Adrian's fists clenched. "You're asking us to split."
"I'm asking you to survive," Kellan corrected.
Zariah closed her eyes briefly, feeling the world shift in response to the thought alone. Lines of possibility unfolded not as images, but as pressure, tension, weight.
"If we split," she said slowly, "they won't know which direction to prioritize."
"They'll choose the one that bleeds," Adrian said flatly.
Zariah met his gaze. "Then they'll follow you."
Adrian stiffened. "No."
"They already fear you," she continued. "You're tangible. Predictable. A threat they understand."
"And you're not?" he asked sharply.
Her expression softened again, just a fraction. "Not anymore."
Kellan exhaled. "She's right."
Adrian turned on him. "Don't."
"They want Zariah," Kellan said. "But they don't know how to take her. You? They know exactly how to hurt you."
Zariah stepped closer to Adrian, her voice low enough that Kellan couldn't hear. "They will use you to reach me."
His throat tightened. "Then let them try."
"They will succeed," she whispered. "Unless I let them think they already have."
Adrian searched her face, panic threading through his control. "What are you planning?"
She didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she reached for his hand.
The contact sent a jolt through both of them not power, not control, just raw connection. The kind that existed before contracts and secrets and bloodshed.
"I can't disappear anymore," she said softly. "But I can misdirect."
Kellan's tablet chimed sharply. "Movement."
All three of them froze.
"Where?" Adrian demanded.
"Multiple nodes," Kellan said. "Private sector. Black-flag networks. They're not converging they're surrounding."
Zariah's breath steadied. "They're building a perimeter."
"Around us?" Adrian asked.
"No," she said quietly. "Around the city."
The implications hit hard.
"They're locking it down," Kellan whispered.
Zariah nodded. "They want me contained."
Adrian stepped in front of her instinctively. "Over my dead body."
Her hand tightened in his. "That might be their plan."
The lights flickered again this time across every surface, every reflection. For a split second, Adrian thought he saw figures in the glass. Not physically present, but watching.
"Adrian," Zariah said softly. "When this breaks because it will you need to trust me."
"I already do."
"No," she corrected gently. "Trust what I'm about to do."
A low hum filled the chamber, different from before. Not reactive.
Intentional.
Kellan stared at the data flooding his screen. "Zariah… what are you activating?"
She exhaled slowly. "A shadow."
The hum deepened.
Adrian's pulse spiked. "Zariah "
"I need them to believe they've found me," she said. "Even if they haven't."
Kellan looked up sharply. "You're creating a false presence."
"Yes," she said. "One that bleeds. One that panics. One that runs."
Adrian shook his head. "That's suicide."
Her gaze locked onto his. "Only if they realize it's not real."
The chamber doors began to unlock one by one without anyone touching a control.
Kellan swore. "You're opening the perimeter."
"They need an entrance," Zariah said calmly. "A mistake."
Adrian grabbed her shoulders. "You don't get to be the mistake."
Her voice broke just slightly. "I already was. This is me fixing it."
The hum spiked sharply then fractured.
Adrian felt it then: a pull. Not physical. Not mental.
Directional.
Kellan's face drained of color. "They've locked onto something."
Zariah inhaled sharply. "Good."
Adrian stared at her in horror. "Zariah… where did you put it?"
She met his gaze, eyes steady, resolute.
"Close enough," she whispered, "that when they strike…"
The chamber shook violently as distant alarms finally screamed to life.
"…they won't miss."
The lights went out.
And somewhere in the darkness, the hunt began in earnest.