The victory in the Mariana Trench tasted like copper and exhaustion.
We had destroyed the terraforming engine. We had proven that the Iron and Aether protocol could break the Architects’ physical fortresses. But as the Nereus III surfaced in the dead of night, breaking through the choppy, black waves of the Pacific, the holographic displays in the command module painted a grim, inescapable reality.
The Pacific base was a distraction. A brute-force feint to draw our aquatic vanguard away from the real threat.
High above the Earth’s surface, in the thin, freezing air of the stratosphere, the Sahara and Siberian scrubbers were spinning up to full capacity.
I stand in the center of the UN command ship’s war room, three days after our return from the trench. My ribs are heavily taped, my le
