Chapter 11: The Breaking Point
Darkness enveloped the cradle.
For a moment, it was complete—thick, crushing, endless. Then emergency lights kicked in with a low hum, casting red pulses that painted the chamber in blood-like rhythm.
Nathan groaned and sat up, bruised but breathing. The floor was damp. Cold seawater trickled through fractured seams. Something above had cracked. The cradle was bleeding.
“Lina?” he called.
“I’m here,” came her voice from behind the console, dazed but steady. She clutched her wrist—sprained, maybe broken—but alive.
Jax stood over Vera, who lay on the ground unconscious, her enforcers short-circuited beside her. The EMP had done more than disrupt the cradle—it had fried most of the augmentations around them.
“She’s out cold,” Jax said. “But the structure’s not happy.”
The facility groaned. Metal screamed.
“We overloaded the core system,” Lina said. “We didn’t just stop the boot. We triggered a collapse.”
Nathan looked up at the mainframe ring. Sparks danced across its neural mesh like fireflies. The cradle had one final breath left—and it was turning inward.
“Evac plan?” Jax asked.
“There’s a pressure tunnel,” Lina said. “It leads to a thermal vent system. I saw it on the schematic. We can ride it up to the surface—if the chamber holds.”
Nathan helped her up. “Then we move. Now.”
He paused only briefly, turning to Vera. Despite everything, she looked peaceful. Human.
“Bring her,” he said.
Jax frowned. “You serious?”
“She’s not a martyr today,” Nathan replied. “She faces what’s left—like the rest of us.”
They moved fast.
The tunnel trembled as explosions rocked the lower levels. Seawater rushed through breached vents, hissing and roaring with pressure. They followed Lina’s lead, crawling into a steel shaft as the cradle behind them began to collapse.
At the halfway point, Vera stirred. Her voice was hoarse.
“You should’ve finished it,” she rasped. “The world... needs the Eyes.”
Nathan didn’t stop. “The world needs a second chance.”
She didn’t argue again.
When they broke the surface, dawn was just beginning to rise over the flooded remnants of the strait.
Behind them, a distant column of bubbles and debris marked where the cradle had imploded—gone for good. No more backups. No more control.
They lay on the rescue platform in silence, panting, trembling, alive.
Jax broke it first. “What now?”
Nathan looked west—toward Kuala Lumpur.
“We rebuild,” he said. “But this time, not from code or machines. From people.”
Lina nodded. “No more Eyes.”
Only Vera stared downward, silent.
The sun broke through the cloudline.
And for the first time in years, the horizon didn’t look broken.
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