Rain lances down as Elara and Lucien crouch at the edge of Helix's offshore rig, now a fortress of steel and glass. Lightning flashes over the churning sea, illuminating barbed‑wire barricades and automated turrets that sweep the air with lethal precision. Their hover‑raft rests hidden behind a maintenance catwalk, engines off to mask their approach.
Lucien taps his wrist implant. “Trojan activation in thirty seconds. That gives us a window before their automated lockdown kicks in."
Elara loads a pair of flash grenades into her tactical vest. “Once we're in, split tasks: I'll handle the server core—plant the ion charges. You back me up and clear our exit path."
He nods, voice grim. “No mistakes."
They slip onto the catwalk, water sluicing over grated steel. Each step echoes as they cir
