Light. Blinding, searing, endless light.
Then silence.
Natalie’s body hit the ground hard, pain blooming through every inch of her. The smell of smoke and melted circuitry burned her throat as she struggled to open her eyes. The Core chamber was unrecognizable—half the ceiling gone, wires dangling like veins from a wounded beast.
“Ethan…?” she rasped, panic slicing through the haze.
A faint whimper answered her. Relief flooded her chest. She crawled toward the sound, every muscle screaming, and found her son alive beneath a shattered console, shielded by a fallen support beam. He was crying, terrified but unharmed.
She pulled him close, trembling. “It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s here.”
The air buzzed. Sparks crackled overhead. Something—someone—moved in the mist.
“Adrian?” she called weak
