The vibration was no longer a sound; it was a physical assault. The bunker once an impregnable fortress was being peeled apart like a rusted tin can. Nala’s boots skidded across the floor as the entire structure tilted, pulled upward by the gravitational tether of the lead ship. Outside the dissolving ceiling, the sky was a bruised purple, dominated by the colossal, unblinking eye of the vessel: Elisha.
Nala’s finger hovered over the holographic ‘YES’ button. Delete the source. It was a clean execution. But the "source" wasn't just malware. The source was Leo or the fractured ghost of binary data currently fused to the Anchor’s heart.
"Nala... do it..."
The digital whisper vibrated through her malachite bracelet. She looked up. Leo’s translucent form was flickering, his edges blurring
