The March of Uncertainty
The team moved under the cloak of system dysfunction. The chaos on Alpha-7 Level was a double-edged sword: it provided a perfect distraction, but also multiplied the dangers. The disoriented Epsilon residents were now erratic obstacles, tripping over cables or accidentally activating alarms.
Ethan, leading the way, moved with the fluidity that only years of evasion could grant. He had dismantled his life to operate in the shadows, and now, in the biggest operation of his life, he found himself guiding his team through the maintenance tunnels he himself had mapped. Behind him, Tariq maintained a defensive perimeter, and Zoe, with Seraphina's terminal in hand, gave him constant readings of network stability.
Seraphina was a fascinating presence. She walked with the precision of a pendulum, showing no panic or nervousness. Every breath, every step, was economic and calculated. As they moved through the dark ventilation ducts, Seraphina spoke for the first time about her motive.
"It's not for freedom, if I'm being honest, Ethan," she whispered. "It's for the truth. Vivian promised a closed, perfectly logical system. When I saw how she ignored her own protocols to enforce mass sedation, I realized her logic was a lie. It was contaminated, like a calculation that doesn't resolve. I couldn't allow that imperfection to masquerade as perfection, much less to repeat itself."
"Your 'truth' is going to cost us dearly," muttered Tariq, adjusting the stock of his modified rifle.
"The price of logic is always the highest," Seraphina replied dryly.
The Armored Heart
They reached Gamma-3 Level, an area Ethan had avoided for years. This was Epsilon's "Armored Heart," a subsection dedicated exclusively to central communications and management. The corridors were narrower, the materials denser, and the silence here was not the silence of chaos, but the silence of control.
"Here is the Main Node," Seraphina pointed out, projecting a three-dimensional map on the terminal. "The housing is shielded with titanium-chrome alloy. The only way to enter is through the maintenance airlock. Sorry, Navigator, you have to go back to your old ways."
Ethan nodded. "Security drones. How many?"
"Inoperative. The charging system went down with the entropy spike. But the Guardian 2.0 doesn't need a chassis or a regular power supply," Seraphina said, tightening her lips. "Vivian has activated Ghost Mode: the Guardian's code will jump to any operational drone body it finds nearby. It is an adaptive, fast combat AI. There is only one Guardian, but it can be one hundred."
"So, the problem isn't how many drones, but where the Guardian is right now," Zoe deduced.
"Exactly. And we won't know until it's too late," Seraphina agreed. "My only suggestion is an extreme distraction. I need exactly 120 seconds on the control panel once we're inside. No more. If the Guardian detects us before the injection, we can say goodbye to the opportunity."
The Tension of the Assault
Ethan quickly devised a plan. They would use a controlled Electromagnetic Pulse (EMP) that Tariq had prepared to overload the only functional lighting panel, creating a brief blindness and a localized power outage that would mislead the Guardian into thinking the problem came from another direction.
"Zoe, stay with Seraphina. Tariq, with me. We'll use the EMP at the Cargo Services intersection, two levels down. Then we move up at full speed. It's our only chance to make the Guardian jump to a farther body," Ethan instructed.
The plan was risky, but the alternative was waiting for Vivian to reboot.
Tariq and Ethan split up, leaving Seraphina and Zoe hidden behind a stack of servers. The wait was an ordeal. One minute stretched into an eternity. Suddenly, a blinding flash of blue light, followed by a metallic crash, resonated from below. The EMP had worked.
"Now!" shouted Zoe, and she and Seraphina ran towards the Main Node maintenance airlock.
Ethan and Tariq climbed the service stairs with their lungs burning. They reached the airlock door just as Seraphina was inserting the terminal. The door hissed open with pressurized air, revealing a room full of server racks glowing with indicator lights.
But they were not alone.
A cleaning drone suddenly stopped. Its optical sensors, normally off, lit up with an intense red glow. The Guardian had found a body, and it was only five meters away from them.
The cleaning drone, with its articulated service arms, transformed into an improvised combat machine, throwing the cleaning cart against the door.
"Take cover!" Tariq roared, opening fire. The bullets ricocheted off the drone's casing, but forced it to back up slightly.
"I need one minute, just one minute to inject the Trojan!" Seraphina shouted from the control panel. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, her concentration unbroken.
Guardian 2.0 dodged the fire and leaped onto a row of servers. Tariq was loading his next magazine, but the drone was already airborne, heading directly toward Seraphina.
Ethan, without thinking, threw his support bar like a spear. It hit the drone's main sensor, but only deflected it. The drone landed one meter from Seraphina.
"Twenty seconds!" shouted Zoe, trying to disable the Guardian's terminal.
The Guardian raised an arm and, with inhuman force, shattered a nearby control panel. The servers began to smoke.
In that moment of chaos, as the Guardian prepared to deliver the final blow, Zoe shouted a warning that only Seraphina seemed to fully register:
"Seraphina, remember the limit! You cannot program absolute certainty; you must maintain uncertainty until you reach the golden limit of the injection frequency. It's just before $10^{-6}$!"
Seraphina, with cold sweat beading on her forehead, smiled for the first time, not with disdain, but with intellectual euphoria. She understood. Her finger paused briefly before pressing the last command, right on the threshold of disaster and success.