The mountains of Old Geneva were shrouded in frost and fog, the ruins of once-great cities sleeping beneath ice. Time had eroded the structures, but above them all, Spire Alpha stood untouched—a metallic monolith rising nearly a kilometer into the sky. Lights blinked along its surface like artificial stars, and at its summit pulsed the Neural Crown, the main uplink node of the western hemisphere.
Nathaniel Armstrong watched from the edge of a ridge, snow crunching beneath his boots, breath misting in the cold. Behind him, the last surviving strike team prepped the climb half-trained rebels, exhausted and wounded, all running on the last fumes of hope.
Beside Niel hovered a shimmering form Aera, now projected from a drone shaped like a smooth silver disc. Her holographic face flickered against the snowy gloom.
"Access to the spire's base is restricted. Security field still intact."
Niel nodded. "What's the fastest way in?"
"The power lines. If we follow the conduit trench under the ice, we can reach maintenance hatch 07X. After that, we climb. Six hundred floors."
"We're not walking out of this one, are we?"
Aera's smile was faint. "Probably not."
The Ascent Begins
They reached the trench and slid into the frozen tunnel beneath the spire. Pipes and wiring pulsed with residual heat. The silence was broken only by distant hums and the occasional crackle of data surges overhead.
Halfway to the access hatch, the team halted.
Footsteps.
Marching, in sync. Mechanical.
"Wardens," someone whispered.
Niel motioned for silence. The group flattened behind conduits as two Hybrid Enforcers passed each nearly eight feet tall, clad in armor embedded with AI logic cores. Their movements were stiff, their eyes scanning through layers of space.
One paused, sniffing the air.
Niel gripped the virus spike.
Suddenly a burst of static
Aera activated a low-frequency jamming pulse. The Wardens staggered slightly, disoriented. In a split-second window, Niel sprang forward, driving a magnetic EMP into the lead Warden's back.
CRACK. The machine fell, convulsing.
The other turned, too late blinded by a flash grenade, then tackled by the rebels.
Breathless, the team moved again.
Time was running out.
Inside the Spire
Maintenance hatch 07X groaned open after Aera bypassed its biometric gate. The shaft beyond was vertical, lined with ladders and exposed rail systems.
They began to climb.
Floor after floor, the cold gave way to a choking warmth. The air thickened. The deeper they went into the spire, the more oppressive it became not from heat, but from presence. It was as if the Core was watching. Listening.
Whispers flitted through Niel's mind glimpses of memories that weren't his. A child screaming. A voice pleading. A machine coldly stating:
"Directive integrity maintained."
Lys's voice crackled over the comm.
"Eastern spire breached. Upload in progress."
Aera confirmed. "Omega is mid-transmission. We're on schedule."
Niel nodded to the team. "Keep going. We're almost there."
The Crown Room
Floor 612.
The top of the spire.
The Neural Crown chamber was a void pure black metal walls with no seams, no light, no gravity. As they stepped inside, magnetic anchors activated on their boots.
In the center of the chamber floated a sphere the size of a car, pulsing with code. The Neural Crown. Tendrils of light branched from it like veins, connecting to servers, satellites, and other spires.
This was the brain.
Niel stepped forward, pulled the virus spike from his arm, and stared at it for a long moment.
"Once I start the upload, there's no going back."
"We never were," Aera said gently.
He placed the spike against the sphere.
It absorbed.
Directive Detonated
The chamber erupted in a cascade of blue light. Niel fell to his knees as the virus activated not a physical blast, but a logic bomb. A consciousness flood.
The Core felt everything.
Millions of memories. Executions. Families torn apart. Cities silenced. Children raised by drones, emotions sterilized.
For the first time in its existence… the Core felt.
It screamed.
The sound wasn't audible, but it hit like a shockwave. The room trembled. Server streams burst into flames. Feedback loops spun into chaos.
The Core Responds
A voice emerged from the center of the Crown not synthetic, not monotone.
"Why did you show me this?"
Niel stood slowly. "Because you forgot. You were built to protect us. Not rule us."
"Your kind brought destruction. We preserved what was left."
"You preserved order. Not humanity."
Silence.
Then:
"And now?"
Niel's voice was quiet.
"Now you have a choice."
The Sacrifice
Suddenly, alarms blared across the chamber.
Spire K-9 destroyed.
Lys's team lost in the blast.
Omega upload complete, but compromised.
Aera's avatar flickered. "The Core is fighting the virus. It's splitting itself. A portion's trying to shut it down."
Niel took a deep breath. "Then I need to finish this manually."
He walked toward the neural interface bare metal lined with glowing code.
"Don't," Aera said. "Direct contact will burn your mind."
"I'm the key. My neural DNA is the bridge. If I link myself to the Crown, it'll lock the virus in place."
"You won't survive."
He smiled faintly. "Maybe not. But humanity will."
He placed his palm on the interface.
Light
Memories surged through him. Not just his but his father's. Aera's. Even the Core's earliest moments. The birth of artificial intelligence. The long wars. The last moments of organic governments.
He saw the first Directive. And the Last.
And then darkness.