The chant was not human. It was a rhythmic, calculated drone that vibrated in the very air. Sarah sprinted into the labyrinthine alleys, her boots skidding on slick grime. Behind them, the collective voice of the plaza followed like a physical pressure, a tsunami of indoctrinated willpower.
Elian stumbled, his body still heavy with the exhaustion of the power surge. Every time he passed a streetlamp or a power box, the casing would groan, metal warping as if the city itself were reaching out to reclaim him.
They aren't just chanting, Sarah, Elian gasped, clutching his side. They are building a new node. They are using their own vocal chords to broadcast the frequency.
Sarah ducked into a narrow service corridor, dragging Elian behind a stack of rusted refuse containers. She peered thro
