The transit station was a cavern of hollow concrete and discarded dreams. Elian leaned against a pillar, his breathing ragged. Above them, the fake star. The drone continued its silent, predatory circuit. It was not observing them. It was mapping them.
We cannot stay here, Elian murmured. The drone is broadcasting a low-frequency ping. It is looking for the specific resonant signature of my neural pathway.
Sarah scanned the dimly lit platform. The survivors they had seen earlier were already gone, vanishing into the maze of the city like ghosts.
Why you? If Monarch is still active, why focus on the glitch?
Because I am the only one who knows the backdoor, Elian said, his eyes darting toward the dark tunnel ahead. And if it finds the backdoor, it does not just reboot. It deletes.
He g
