Page 39 of GlitchBorn Heart

Ash sighs. “Yes, that one.” He leans in closer to both of us. “All I’m saying is careful who you shine too bright around. Energy like that draws attention.” He turns to face me, smirking. “And not the kind of attention I would give you if you—”

“Why you?” I interrupt him before he can finish that sentence. I look into those striking blue eyes, my attraction to him must be obvious, so I play it cool. “Why do you have to look into the anomalies?” I try to match his intense energy, but my head’s spinning from last night and from seeing Kael on the feeds this morning.

Kael. The man from my dreams, now possibly my hunter.

“I told you, Kael and I are like brothers. We have an...arrangement.” Ash stumbles over the words. “Your magic doesn’t just flare, it appears like a fucking beacon.” He looks straight at Eli. “You’re a VoidChanneler, right?” He steals a drink of my water like it’s the most casual question in the world.

A pregnant pause. Eli just stares at him, mouth agape. “When and if you two collapse the system, rebel tech, DreamNet, GameNet, and even people will be at risk. So, it affects me too. So, do me a solid and lay low.” He gives me a quick peck on the forehead, like the kiss you give your grandma.

“Gotta run.” He slides out of the booth, his leather jacket cracking as he moves. “Oh, and stay out of DreamNet tonight, Lyra.” He flashes that grin again and a dimple pops on his cheek. “Dreaming about me in the RedRoom will have to wait until this blows over.” His blue eyes twinkle intensely, and then he’s gone. Just like that.

Eli looks at me like he’s going to vomit all the fries he had before I arrived. “They know, Lyra. Fuck! They know.” His breathing is ragged.

The room spins. Lights smear into a blur of color, laughter and clattering plates are suddenly too loud, too much. My mouth is dry, but the words claw their way out anyway. “Then it’s already too late.”

Every screen in the room drips amber and crimson with my fear.

Now we know.

We are the hunted.

15

BloodlineVirus

Playlist: Virus - Rogue VHS, Kareful, pale fortress

Kael

It’s nearly midnight when I return to the empty lab. I do a quick sweep of the floor, eyes skimming over consoles, a check of the cybernetics room, listening for the smallest noise to indicate movement. No footsteps. No voices. Just the low, constant hum of the servers breathing behind the walls.

Alone. Exactly how I like it.

The systems seem to run smoother once I’m alone, or maybe I just notice it more, like the lab knows when it’s just us. This is when LINK and I align code and unravel problems. I’ve always done my best work after hours, in the quiet where control comes easier and nothing interrupts my focus.

This is the moment when the noise fades and for some strange reason the system listens, the code pouring from my fingers like a hover-car on auto-pilot.

The lab is still thrumming patiently when I step back into my office. The monitor comes alive at my touch with data streams and pulsing grids. I can’t seem to shake the sour feeling in my gut from when I walked in on Ember and Vikktor this morning, and I just can’t let it go.

“LINK—access the lab security feeds from two this morning.”

YES DR. RYUDON

WELCOME BACK TO THE LAB

LINK pulls up the lab video footage from just before I arrived and allows me access to scan it for any clues. My eyes flick to the corner of the feed for the exact time.

The anomalies flash across the central display, two jagged blips of light that refuse to resolve. Ember locks in on them, tuning out the background. She turns so her back is blocking them from Vikktor. “Father, this isn’t what you promised.” She’s holding the sleek thumb drive in her fingers.

Vikktor and Ember are standing close, their voices low but the cams pick up everything. I turn the audio up, their half-whispers becoming clearer. “This isn’t a patch. It’s a purge. You’re rewriting the system to collapse entire networks. You’re talking about the genocide of non-citizens.”

“Genocide is such an ugly word, Ember. It isn’t genocide,” Vikktor assures her, his tone clipped, dismissive. “It’s a correction. A reset for those who were never meant to thrive in our city. This virus isn’t death, it’s mercy.”

Ember’s face contorts. She swallows hard, the words difficult to speak. “These are real people, Father. There are kids in some of those non-citizen sectors. We can find jobs for them. Get them help. I can oversee it.”

The glow of cascading data streams flickers across Vikktor’s face, painting him in pale blue light that makes his sharp cheekbones look carved from stone. “Dearest Daughter...you’ve presented the data to me yourself; the U21 rebels have infiltrated these groups, we’re just removing dangerous variables before they spread. Most have already aligned themselves with the rebellion.”

Ember stands stiffly at his side, her fiery hair catching the reflections of the data streams. Her eyes are fixed on her father. “Variables? They’re families. People in the non-citizen sector are not all rebels and not all of them have magic. You’ll wipe them out because they don’t fit into your perfect world? Because they don’t work for you?”