The last command door finished melting with a tired sag, as if it had been waiting for an excuse to stop pretending it was strong.
The frame drooped inward, metal composites sloughing off in wet folds that hissed when they touched the floor. Aerenyx stepped through first without looking back. Sera followed at the same pace, more curious than cautious, feeling the air change around her as they crossed the threshold.
The command core was brighter than the halls outside, not because it had more power, but because it had hoarded what was left.
The ceiling panels were still intact. The screens were still on. The smell was different here too—sterilizer layered over coffee, gun oil, and the sharp metallic tang of too many batteries running hot. It smelled like people who had convinced themselves they were the last clean thing in a dirty world.
Director Mercer stood by the central console, backed by a half-circle of guards.
