The night was sharp, metallic, and cold.
The crawler thundered across the wasteland, its armored frame cutting through the wind. Inside, the air hummed with tension — screens flickered, systems whirred, and every few seconds the radar pinged softly, marking faint digital ghosts on the horizon.
Leon sat at the front, eyes fixed on the flickering map. His gloved hand drummed against the armrest.
[Cognitive Drift: 8.4%.]
[Residual Sovereign Code Detected.]
He exhaled sharply, pushing the alert away.
Nova leaned over the console beside him, her dark hair falling over one shoulder. “You keep ignoring those warnings,” she said quietly.
“I don’t have time to babysit my code,” Leon muttered.
“You don’t have time to become him, either.”
Her words hit harder than she meant them to. The sile
