The darkness in the Dodoma facility didn’t just hide the world; it felt like it was trying to replace it.
Nala stood frozen, her hand still hovering over the ancient console. The hum of the waking mainframes grew into a physical vibration, a low frequency roar that rattled her teeth and made the air taste like burnt copper. Beside her, Maricha Sonoko was a shadow among shadows, his breathing coming in short, panicked hitches that punctuated the rhythmic wail of the facility's alarms.
"Nala, we have to move," Sonoko whispered, his voice cracking. "The moment she reclaiming the host, the Kigamboni uplink became a direct conduit. She isn’t just coming for us she’s already here. She’s in the walls. She’s in the floorboards."
Nala didn't move. Her eyes were fixed on the black screen where Le
