The Sector 4 wasteland was a graveyard of industrial ambition. As the black SUV crested a ridge of rusted scrap, the Facility loomed—a brutalist monolith of concrete and jagged steel, silhouetted against a sky that bled charcoal and violet.
"Nature is angry," Lily whispered, pressing her face to the window.
A massive supercell storm swirled directly above the plant, lightning snaking through the clouds like glowing veins. It wasn't natural; the atmospheric stabilizers of the city had been bypassed. The Facility was pulling power directly from the ionosphere.
"They're priming the servers," Adrien said, his laptop screen reflecting the surging energy readings. "If that storm hits peak intensity, the upload starts. We have thirty minutes."
Ashley slammed the SUV into gear, roaring toward the perimeter fence. "Then we don't stop for the gates."