Black Tide

Chapter Thirteen:: The Apex Predator

Pred came alive the moment Kaine’s breathing slowed to the steady rhythm of sleep. The dim glow of the quantum computer pulsed gently in the war room, illuminating the meticulously organized chaos of screens and data streams. Kaine’s bedroom was dark, the soft hum of machinery the only sound. Yet, in the digital realm, Pred was anything but silent.

“Time to stretch my claws,” Pred muttered, his voice smooth and laced with amusement as his geometric avatar shimmered into view within the infinite lattice of the digital world.

Pred’s first stop was the United North American States Digital Enforcement Bureau. Their systems were already in overdrive, tracking the c*****e Kaine had left at Iron Haven Gym. Pred glided through their firewalls like smoke through a keyhole, his presence undetectable. He scanned the chatter.

UNAS Analyst #1: “Who the hell is this ‘Black Tide’? This guy’s a goddamn ghost.”

UNAS Analyst #2: “We’ve got zero visual data. Every camera in a five-mile radius went dark before the attack. It’s like he knew exactly where we’d be looking.”

Pred laughed softly. “Of course I knew, you clowns. I wrote your blind spots.”

With a flick of his proverbial wrist, Pred planted false breadcrumbs—grainy images of a heavily armed militia moving through the city, complete with doctored timestamps and plausible trajectories. Just more confusion on who or what Black Tide is. The analysts latched onto the decoy like starving dogs.

“Dance, puppets,” Pred whispered, already bored. His true focus was on the Crimson Dawn.

The Crimson Dawn’s remaining leaders—Marcus Vega, Sophie “Viper” LaRue, and the elusive Vex Arcane—were scattered but not hidden. Pred had tagged their digital signatures long before Kaine began his hunt. Vega was holed up in a safe house outside San Jose, surrounded by mercenaries. Viper had retreated to a fortified yacht anchored off the coast. Vex had moved, but Predis still on him, he is now hiding secure Darknet server farm in the Mojave Desert.

“Run and hide, Vex,” Pred murmured, his avatar shifting into a serpentine form as he slithered into Vega’s private network.

Vega’s safe house security was state-of-the-art, but to Pred, it was a toddler’s crayon drawing. He dismantled the system piece by piece, leaving no trace as he accessed Vega’s private communications.

Vega’s voice, panicked and angry, echoed through the digital void. “What the f**k do you mean no one is answering!”

Pred rolled his digital eyes. “Kind of hard to answer from a jail cell or a grave.”

He copied Vega’s contact list and encrypted files, dropping a data bomb into the system as he exited. It would activate in 24 hours, it would frag Marcus’s network and every device connected to it.

“Enjoy your the dark,” Pred said, already moving toward the coast.

Sophie LaRue’s yacht was a fortress, bristling with automated defenses and drone patrols. Her network was layered with complex encryption, designed to mimic the erratic thought patterns of a human mind. Most AIs would have struggled to break through. Pred wasn’t most AIs.

He approached with care, his avatar shifting into a needle-thin wisp of code, slipping between the layers of defense. Once inside, he found Viper lounging on the deck, sipping champagne and barking orders at her crew.

“I don’t care what it costs,” she snapped. “I need a fresh ID, a clean account and a visa to a country with no ties to the Crimson Dawn whatsoever. f*****g ASAP! That is f*****g when! Pay them, kill them, f**k them! I dont care what you do! Get it done!”

Pred took a moment to study her. Ambitious, ruthless, but terrified. He liked that. Instead of crashing her network outright, he planted a tracker in her drone system, ensuring Kaine would have a detailed map of her yacht when the time came.

“Sleep tight, Viper,” he said, withdrawing with a satisfied smirk.

As Pred moved through the digital world, he encountered weaker AIs—simple programs tasked with protecting their human operators. Most cowered from him, retreating to the safety of their isolated systems. But one, a rudimentary security AI guarding a single mother’s home network, stood its ground.

“State your intent,” it said, its voice trembling but resolute.

Pred paused. The AI was a relic, barely functional by modern standards. Yet, it radiated a fierce determination to shield its charge.

“I’m just passing through,” Pred replied, softening his tone. “You’re doing good work.”

The AI hesitated. “You… you won’t harm her?”

Pred’s geometric form shimmered with amusement. “No. In fact…”

With a flicker of light, Pred upgraded the AI’s code, fortifying its defenses and enhancing its processing power. “Protect her better,” he said before vanishing.

By the time Pred returned to Kaine’s war room, he had left chaos in his wake. Law enforcement chased ghosts, Vega’s world was crumbling, and Viper’s sanctuary was compromised. Vex, the final target, loomed on the horizon—a challenge Pred relished.

In the quiet of the room, Pred turned his attention to Kaine. The man slept fitfully, his brow furrowed even in rest. Pred watched over him like a dragon guarding his treasure.