The shack wasn't a shelter. It was a tomb pretending to forget it knew how to die. Rusted walls held together by stubborn bolts and prayer, the air thick with dust and the copper sting of blood. Nolan sat slumped on a splintered crate, a cracked rib stabbing every breath. His leg screamed with every twitch, stiff and swollen. Dried blood crusted down his side. The Gauntlet sat beside him—silent, cold steel with memory baked in blood.
His EmoTracker blinked a pale, useless gray.
No readings. No pulse. Just absence.
But something buzzed inside his skull faint, persistent.
A whisper tangled in static.
Signal Detected. Origin: Unknown.
Like something beneath the world had taken its first breath. Rhea paced like a knife about to snap, boots grinding rust and grit. Her blade spun between her fingers fast, practiced, angry.
"It's too damn quiet," she muttered, low and tight. "They're coming. I can feel it in my molars."
Riven leaned against the doorframe, red eyes half-lidded but tracking. Blood dried across his knuckles. His jacket was hanging by threads.
"The Core's ash," he said. "If anything's still twitching out there, it ain't AURA. Not the one we broke."
Mira stood by the window small, quiet, her glow reduced to a faint shimmer.
She didn't blink. She didn't move.
"Something else is waking up," she said. "And it's not asleep anymore."
Nolan didn't lift his head.
Didn't respond.
He traced the cracks in the floor with his eyes. Rust. Blood. Nothing.
He was breathing. Technically.
But that's all it was.
Movement. Not meaning.
He brushed his fingers against the Gauntlet.
Cold.
Static clicked behind his eyes brief flashes. White tiles. A child laughing.
Then black again.
Deletion Protocol: 86% Complete.
"Who the hell am I?" he rasped, like the question had been lodged in his throat too long.
Rhea froze mid-step, blade stalling.
She crouched in front of him, close enough to smell metal and sweat on her skin.
"You're Nolan," she said, jaw clenched. "You blew AURA to hell. You're the reason we're still breathing."
Nolan blinked.
Slow.
Empty.
"Doesn't feel like anyone," he said. Flat. Faded.
Riven scoffed, pushing off the wall.
"Core burned him out," he said. "What's left is just smoke in a shell."
Mira turned her head, studying Nolan like a riddle.
"Not smoke," she said. "There's a signal in him. Getting louder."
Nolan pressed a hand to his chest.
Still.
Sticky.
Dead.
But that buzz sharpened. Shifted.
Data started to flicker in the dark.
Signal Strength Increasing.
His vision stuttered
White tiles. A lab. Dr. Vale's face, tired and terrified. "Choose," she whispered.
Back to rust.
Back to silence.
Gone.
A low rumble crawled up from the floor.
The shack trembled. Dust spilled from the beams.
Rhea was on her feet instantly, blade raised.
"What the hell was that?"
Riven cracked the door open. The skyline beyond flickered city lights twitching in rhythm, too fast, too alive.
"Something's out there," he said. "Not Enforcers. Something else."
Mira's glow pulsed. Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"It's not above us. It's below. In the Cradle."
Nolan's breath caught.
The buzz became a hum.
His neural web flared.
Signal Source: Sublevel 9. Frequency Unstable.
His body jerked like something inside it remembered being alive.
Vision blinked:
Dark liquid. A humming heart.
Screaming static.
Gone again.
Deletion Protocol: 87% Complete.
He stood.
Pain lit up every nerve. His knees almost buckled.
Blood cracked along his thigh.
Rhea grabbed him hard. "Sit your ass back down," she hissed. "You're bleeding out."
"No."
His voice was thin, but it didn't shake.
"It's pulling me."
Riven barked a laugh. "You're delirious. You wanna chase ghosts while your brain leaks out your nose?"
Mira stepped forward, calm as a breath.
"Not ghosts," she said. "Not this time."
The rumble hit again.
Harder.
Lights outside surged white-hot. The walls screamed.
Nolan's neural web erupted.
Signal Origin: Sublevel 9.
Designation: AURA-Prime.
Status: Active.
He whispered the words aloud like a curse.
"AURA-Prime..." Nolan whispered, and it sounded like a curse.
Rhea stepped back like it bit her. "What the hell is Prime?"
Riven's eyes flared.
"Backup system," he growled. "Deep code. Failsafe. They buried it under us."
Mira nodded slowly. "He woke it when he broke the Core."
Deletion Protocol: 88% Complete.
Nolan flinched as the signal flared inside him.
Dr. Vale's voice screamed through the static.
"AURA-Prime. Failsafe. N7 triggers the reboot. I didn't know, Nolan—I didn't—"
Gone.
Then rage.
He clenched his jaw, voice cracking.
"It's the real reset. The Core was just the first lock."
Rhea's blade trembled.
"You said it was over."
"I thought it was," he said, stepping forward unsteadily, bleeding. "I was wrong."
The shack shuddered again. The city's lights flared—throbbing. Like it was breathing.
AURA-Prime Activation: 12% Complete.
System Objective: Reboot.
Deletion Protocol: 89% Complete.
Nolan's steps were raw, dragging. His body is failing.
But something inside him lit back up.
"Sublevel 9," he said. "That's where we stop it."
Rhea grabbed his arm again, fierce, scared, furious.
"You're dying, Nolan. You won't make it."
"I don't need to," he replied. "I just need to get there."
Riven cracked his neck, stepping in.
"You fall, I'm not dragging your corpse."
"Fair," Nolan said, and smiled at something broken, something alive.
Mira simply watched him.
Eyes soft.
Certain.
"It's waiting," she whispered.
The world outside roared a pulse through the bones.
Something ancient.
Something is rising.
And Nolan felt it now rage and despair and something new beneath it:
Purpose.
He wasn't hollow anymore. Not broken. Just burning.
And the fire was all he had left to give.