A raw sea breeze whipped over the deck of the cargo ship as Theo Lu, Lila Su, and Leo crouched behind stacked containers in the moonlit hold—every muscle tensed, every breath measured. The vessel's low hum mingled with the slap of waves against its hull, but closer still was the soft beeping of portable servers nestled beneath tarps: their makeshift counter‑virus lab.
Theo wiped salt spray from his brow. “They'll be here any second," he murmured, checking the countdown on his wrist: **T‑00:18:00** until Alpha‑Beta's global purge. He turned to Lila, whose fingers flew over a handheld terminal, lines of code scrolling in bright green. “Status?"
She didn't look up. “Reality Bridge protocol is loaded. We just need to embed Leo's checksum to anchor it." She glanced at their son, asleep in a m
