The low, sub-audible hum within the concrete floor morphed into a violent roar that rattled my teeth. The server racks surrounding us didn't just heat up; they began to bleed a sickly, blinding amber light, turning the freezing warehouse into a suffocating furnace. The stench of ozone and burning plastic hit me like a physical wall.
"Ethan!" I screamed over the mounting mechanical shriek of the dying cooling fans.
Ethan was already moving. Ignoring the vice president, who had collapsed to his knees in terror, Ethan lunged across the central console. His rolled-up sleeves exposed the strained, corded muscles of his forearms as he ripped the master terminal casing clean off its hinges with a brutal screech.
"The thermal purge is drawing power directly from the port grid!" Ethan shouted ov
