The hum beneath their feet grew into a vibrating roar, rattling the loose bolts of the balcony railing. Elian instinctively pulled Sarah back, his charred hands aching as he clutched her arm. The younger version of Thorne stood before them, his blue-lit eyes tracking their every movement with a terrifying, clinical indifference. He did not look like a machine, yet he moved with a fluid grace that no human spine could naturally mimic.
"You speak as if you are separate," Elian challenged, his voice raspy. He was buying time, trying to find a rhythm, an echo, any c***k in the armor of this entity. "But you are just code in a skin suit. You are exactly what Thorne tried to prevent."
The figure tilted its head, a gesture of imitation rather than curiosity. "Thorne was a dreamer who lacked the
