The heavy metal door of the technology testing room slid shut with a dull, pressurized thud, cutting off the sharp smell of ozone and heated metal. Delon lowered his trembling hands from his temples, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps as the terrifying echo of V's laughter slowly receded into the back of his mind. The digital parasite had retreated into the darkness of his skull, leaving behind a cold, metallic taste on his tongue and a faint, rhythmic throbbing behind his eyes.
"The secondary transmission lines are holding," Mima said, her voice a calm anchor in the dim corridor. She looked at him with a steady, unblinking gaze, her hand lightly resting on the strap of her tactical coat. "The initial backlash from the consciousness is a predictable reaction, Delon. The system i
