The word hung in the air like a death sentence.
*Ashfall.*
Caleb stared at the terminal, the red lettering burning into his vision. Twenty-four hours. Twenty-four hours until every subject still connected to the Prime's network—every man, woman, and child who had been turned into a weapon—would die. The Archivist's smile was a cold, triumphant thing, and Caleb wanted to wipe it off his face with his bare hands.
"Explain," he said, his voice a low growl. "Now."
The Archivist tilted his head, his grey eyes gleaming with a sick satisfaction. "The Ashfall Protocol is the Prime's ultimate safeguard. It was designed for exactly this scenario—a total exposure of the network. When the broadcast pushed past the threshold, the protocol activated automatically. It's now broadcasting a termination
