Commander Elara Voss stood at the edge of the city wall, her eyes fixed on the horizon where the sun was rising in shades of gold and pink. It was beautiful. Peaceful.
But Elara couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Six months had passed since her grandmother Lyra had convinced the Creator to spare the universe. Six months of peace. Six months of rebuilding. The city was thriving. The people were happy. The network was flourishing.
But Elara's nanites were restless. They pulsed in her blood, whispering to her, warning her of something she couldn't see. The network was sending out waves of energy that she could feel in her bones, like a distant alarm that never stopped.
"Commander," her second-in-command, Commander Marcus, said, approaching from behind. He was a young man
