CHAPTER 61
EON
Istared down through the jagged hole in the server room floor, my heart thundering against my ribs. Cy lay motionless among the debris, his implants still glowing faintly beneath his skin. I sent out a small pulse to him, and they responded in kind. He was unconscious, but alive.
Ironically, down in that pit was probably the safest place for him, with nowhere left to fall as everything around me continued to shift and overload. The small part of me fighting through the Vector haze was comforted by that.
A structural support beam groaned overhead, bringing me back to reality. The server was destabilizing rapidly, our battle having triggered cascading failures throughout the system.
DITA’s voice crackled in my ear, finally reconnecting. “Eon, your Flux readings are off the charts. What happened?”
“Cy,” I choked out, my voice hoarse from the ozone-thick air. “He found me.”
“Is he—”
“No. He’s fine.” I tore my gaze from the hole. “Where are Taos and Deacon?”
“Level B3, approaching the primary Stellarium junction. Their comms are silent.”
I cursed under my breath. I could feel the building’s infrastructure like a living thing—its power conduits trembling with instability, relay nodes flickering like dying neurons.
“DITA, run a simulation. If they overload the Stellarium lines under these conditions—”
“Processing.” A pause that stretched too long. “Eon, this is…different from Green District. The infrastructure decay here is extensive. Preliminary calculations indicate a chain reaction affecting residential power grids within a three-kilometer radius.”
“How many casualties?”
“Estimated civilian casualties: ten to fifty thousand. Potentially higher, given the time of night.”
My stomach dropped. “They don’t know what they’re doing.”
I started running, navigating the labyrinth of failing servers. Sparks showered from overhead conduits, the magenta glow of exposed Stellarium pipes pulsing like a dying heartbeat.
The emergency stairwell was half-collapsed, forcing me to leap between broken sections. My enhanced reflexes made it possible, but barely. Three levels down, the air changed—hotter, damper, the persistent hum of the power distribution network vibrating through the concrete.
I found them in the central power chamber, a vast circular space where dozens of Stellarium pipelines converged into a pulsating nexus. Taos was hunched over a terminal, her fingers flying across her virtual keyboard. Deacon and three others I didn’t recognize had taken defensive positions around the perimeter.
Deacon spotted me first, his rifle swinging in my direction before recognition set in.
“The fuck happened to you?” he asked, lowering his weapon. My skin was still crackling with residual electricity.
“We need to abort,” I said, ignoring his question and moving straight to Taos. “Now.”
She didn’t look up. “Too late for cold feet, E.”
“Fucking listen to me! The server’s infrastructure is critically compromised. You overload the processors running that code now, it takes half the district with it.”
That got her attention. “What are you talking about?”
“Look at the power fluctuations.” I pushed her aside, pulling up diagnostics. “The regulators are already failing. The reservoir tanks have microfractures. You push more pressure into this system, it doesn’t just damage POM’s servers—it ruptures the entire district grid.”
“That’s not possible,” she argued, though doubt crept into her voice. “The failsafes—”
“Long outdated and ignored.” I met her gaze.
Deacon stepped closer, his expression hardening. “Too late to stop now.”
I looked at him in disbelief. That nagging voice wasn’t suppressed by Vector anymore—it was screaming.
