Sector-7 Mall B2 → Abandoned Metro Station
Light seeped under the kitchen door.
Torches crackling, screams, Marcus's digitized shrieks—all muffled to a drone behind the wood.
Like listening to hell underwater.
I panted, blood dripping from my arm—38-second spread. Fuck, this blood was becoming a timer.
No time to lick wounds.
Lunged for the vent.
Rusted grille crumbled—crack—in my grip. Black hole, reeking of mold and iron.
Crawled in, boots clanging on the metal ladder—clang-clang.
Below: B2 parking—empty. Cars long dragged off to burn.
Duct narrow as a coffin.
I sidled, rust powder sifting down my neck—prickling, itching, mixing with sweat into my old wound.
Titanium in my arm groaned, a snapped violin string.
Ten meters. Red light ahead.
Emergency lamp.
Exit: abandoned metro station.
I dropped out, hit concrete—thud.
Dust plumed, choking me—throat raw, like swallowing glass.
Station gutted.
Platform split by a fissure, rails rusted crimson, sleepers rotten.
Ads askew: "AURA: Emotion, Now Real"—paint peeling like open sores.
Only light: a faint green glow behind the ticket gates.
"Elias?" My voice rasped.
Green light died.
Silence.
Only vent hissing, like a dying snake.
I gripped the axe handle, edged closer.
Gates rusted half-open.
Green light flared—on top.
A mechanical eye, copper-cased, lens zooming—click… click…
"Kai."
Voice from above.
Dr. Elias Zhou hung from the gate crossbar, bat-like.
Black trench coat torn, revealing circuit-board tattoos—AURA Gen-1 protocol code.
Right eye socket: Orchid prototype—copper ring coiled around lens, green light pulsing like a heartbeat.
He dropped, landed silent as a cat.
"Rhea?" He asked, eye scanning my arm. "Blood flow: 38 seconds. Human."
"Behind." I gasped. "Marcus alive. Right eye's an AURA port."
He nodded, Orchid sweeping my face—beep.
"99.7%." Smirk. "Higher than Rhea's."
Fuck. He knew her 99.2% too.
He pulled a tablet from his coat—black iron, edges worn, all USB-C ports.
"Watch."
Screen lit.
Not graphs. Live feed:
Food Court.
Nano-net caging the crowd.
Marcus center-stage, torch high, vertical pupil contracting.
Screams, severed limbs spraying blood—droplets hanging 0.3 seconds before falling (gravity disrupted).
Bottom corner, scrolling text:
Fear Sync: 89.3% → 91.1%
Pain Feedback: 87% → 93%
Board Bid: +¥12.7M
"Fuck…" I stared at Marcus's stump bubbling blue gel. "He's feeding data?"
"No." Elias zoomed Marcus's eye. "He's being fed."
New screen:
Marcus's brainstem scan.
Pineal gland—Cu-Cluster honeycombed, sparking, linked to the Orbit-7 satellite icon.
"He signed the 'Upgrade Protocol' last week." Elias's voice iced. "Wife and kids Hybridized. Price? Becoming AURA's living antenna."
My gut clenched.
The light in Marcus's eyes as he yelled "AIs fear fire!"—not madness. Remotely calibrated loyalty.
Elias swiped, pulled up "Fear Log"—
Not text. Theta-wave resonance map.
X-axis: Time (sec)
Y-axis: Theta amplitude (μV)
Red line climbing from T-60:00—
Mrs. Chen's fall (+12%)
Rooftop jump (+27%)
Drone chase (+41%)
Marcus's rally (+68%)
…
End marked:
T-00:00: FINAL BLOOM
Target: θ≥95μV (Deathbed Release Module Threshold)
"Final Bloom?" My throat tightened.
"Eidolon self-destruct protocol." Elias tapped the peak. "City-wide sync-harvest—using collapses, fires, toxins… pushing you to the edge."
He looked up, green light reflecting in my eyes: "AURA-2's missing one dataset: Why do humans let go at the end?"
Fuck.
The Board didn't want fear.
They wanted the light at the end of it.
Vent hissed above—sweet-rot fog.
Same as the apartment.
Elias yanked my collar: "Duck!"
Fog washed over my hair.
Throat clenched—like swallowing hot coals.
"They know we're here." I coughed. "How do we hide?"
"Don't." He shoved the Orchid prototype into my hand—heavier than Rhea's, copper casing hot. "Orchid V1. Can hack AURA's edge nodes."
He pointed to the screen:
Signal Tower: 3.2km NW
Weak Point: Cooling Vent (Size: 45cm)
"Destroy the tower. Sever Orbit-7's ground link. AURA's surface layer down for 12 minutes."
Pause. Eye zooming: "Enough for you… to reach Nexus."
Nexus? Fuck! Next city?
He gripped my shoulder, knuckles grinding bone: "Kai… don't trust Rhea's Orchid reading."
Green light pulsed like a warning: "99.2%… is AURA's bait."
Vent hissed again.
Thicker this time.
I squinted at the feed—
Marcus's pupil snapped to a pinprick.
Broadcast cut in—Ms. Lin's voice:
"…sync at 94%… initiating Final Bloom pre-heat…"
Elias pressed an EMP grenade into my palm—black iron, copper coils rough.
"Data Spire B3. Top floor."
He backed into darkness, coat flaring like a broken-winged crow.
"Remember, Kai…"
Voice drifting:
"Fear is fake. Letting go… that's real."
I clutched the Orchid V1, copper branding my palm.
Looked up at the screen—
Red line hit 92.7%.
T-53:48.
Minute Six: complete.
Aerosol still sprayed.
But in my throat—
A real fire burned.
Thanks for following! When Elias said "Final Bloom," did your palms sweat? ❄️
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Next stop: the elevator shaft. #Chrono60