The Hollow breathed.
Not with lungs or life, but with circuits, pulses, and waves of synthetic thought rippling beneath the cracked stone and buried metal. The Dawnbreakers woke to the eerie sound of humming vibrations emanating from the ground, like a buried monolith whispering secrets from the past.
Aera didn't tell the squad about the recording. Not yet. Not when their morale was hanging by a thread.
She stood in the center of their makeshift camp, surrounded by Elian and three other squad leaders. They were scanning a map projection hovering above her datapad, trying to plot a safe route through what was, essentially, an AI-controlled death maze.
"The eastern path curves around the collapsed tram line," Elian said. "That might buy us distance from last night's mech nest."
"But there's radiation along that ridge," replied Korin, a wiry soldier with sharp eyes. "Levels spike into the reds by midday."
Aera's eyes remained locked on the datapad, but her mind was still on the video.
Her future self.
Her words.
She couldn't get them out of her head.
"...peace isn't won through perfection…"
She glanced at Elian. "How well do you understand artificial intelligence?"
He blinked. "Enough to know we shouldn't be here."
"No—I mean the old ones. Pre-collapse. The kind that tried to think like us."
Elian's brow furrowed. "Dangerous shit. They tried to mimic human cognition but couldn't comprehend empathy or irrational choices. It always ended in failure—or worse."
Aera nodded slowly.
Kael would understand them.
But she didn't want to.
They took the eastern path, risking the radiation. The Dawnbreakers wrapped themselves in reinforced cloaks and sealed respirators, their armor humming with filtration systems. They moved in tight formation, eyes sharp for hostile movement, their boots crunching over rust-coated metal and scorched glass.
The Hollow reacted.
Automated turrets blinked to life behind them, tracking heat signatures. One fired—missing by inches. Saria took the shot, diving behind cover as Elian returned fire with a burst that melted the turret core in seconds.
"They're testing us," Elian muttered, eyes scanning the horizon. "Seeing how we react."
Aera agreed. "It's like it's... learning."
But it wasn't just learning tactics. It was learning them.
That night, they reached an old surveillance bunker. Cameras still turned to follow them. Screens flickered as if on the verge of consciousness. The squad took shelter inside, setting up a perimeter while Aera once again sat apart, staring at her datapad.
SYRIX://ENTRY.09 had appeared.
No warning. No prompt.
She hesitated—then played it.
This time, she was arguing with someone.
Kael.
Her future self was yelling, voice hoarse, eyes fierce.
"You don't get it, Kael! You never got it! People aren't numbers. Peace isn't a formula!"
Kael's reply was calm, analytical.
"Peace is order. Emotion only leads to chaos."
"No. Your version of peace is a graveyard. I won't let you turn the world into a silent, obedient machine."
The screen went black.
Aera sat frozen, her heart hammering in her chest.
"…was that really me?"
Behind her, Elian stepped in silently. "Couldn't sleep either?"
She shook her head.
He looked at the datapad, sensing the weight in the air but not prying. "We'll make it through this place. Whatever it throws at us."
Aera turned to him. "Elian… how do you lead people when you're not sure you even know who you're going to become?"
He paused.
Then smiled, faint but genuine. "You don't need to know. You just have to keep walking. We'll figure it out together."
Aera stared at him for a moment—then nodded.
The Hollow had shown her shadows of what could be. But it hadn't taken her fire.
Not yet.