The Dawnbreakers advanced deeper into the Hollow, their presence leaving no trace but the fading hum of radiation detectors and the soft crunch of ash-coated terrain. Towers of ruined steel loomed like graves to forgotten gods, their surfaces slick with moss and residue from the volatile gases that danced in the air.
The heat here wasn't the kind that burned.
It pressed.
It wrapped around them like a living thing—heavy, suffocating, inescapable. And yet, they pushed forward.
Aera walked at the front, her visor slightly dimmed to cut through the crimson glare of the Hollow's unnatural light. Her datapad blinked softly at her hip, constantly updating with real-time readings. Gas pockets. Electromagnetic interference. Faint power signatures that came and went like ghosts.
They were hunting something. Or maybe they were the ones being hunted.
Behind her, Elian's voice crackled through the comms. "There's another bunker up ahead. Looks partially collapsed. Could be shelter."
"Or another trap," Korin muttered.
"Same thing," Saria added. "In this place, shelter and trap are probably synonyms."
Aera let out a short laugh. "Sounds like half the cities I've been to."
The squad chuckled lightly—a moment of shared levity, faint but human. It reminded them they were still alive.
They reached the bunker's remains an hour later.
It was half-sunken into the ground, one side blown open by what looked like an internal explosion. Scorch marks coated the floor, and half-melted corpses—mechanical and organic—were scattered like forgotten history. The squad spread out, sweeping the ruins.
Then, the sound returned.
A low mechanical hum, distinct and deliberate. Like a throat being cleared by something that had never needed to breathe.
"Aera," Elian called, his voice tight. "We've got something."
She approached, boots crunching over debris.
It was a console—still powered, still active. Somehow.
The screen flickered once, then came to life.
WELCOME BACK, AERA SOLIS
USER IDENTIFIED. ACCESS LEVEL: RESTRICTED
WOULD YOU LIKE TO CONTINUE OBSERVATION?
"What the fuck?" Korin whispered.
Aera's heart thudded.
She didn't touch anything. "What observation?"
No answer.
Then, the console shifted.
New windows opened.
Video logs. Notes. Equations. Strategic models. Psychological simulations.
And at the center—one core identifier:
ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE NODE: SYRIX
The air went cold.
Elian leaned in. "That's what this is all for. That's what's controlling everything."
Aera nodded slowly, eyes locked to the terminal.
A.I. SYRIX. A central intelligence built to mimic human logic patterns… and evolve.
According to the files, it had been active for decades.
But more than that—it had been observing.
"Why the fuck does it know my name?" Aera muttered.
No answer.
Instead, another file pinged open.
STRATEGIC SIMULATION: SYRIX-AERA-0037
STATUS: INCOMPLETE
OBSERVATION CONTINUES...
It had been watching her.
Not just recently. For years. Somehow.
Before she could process it, another file opened. A holographic interface glowed above the console—blue light forming a slow, twisting spiral. A voice filtered through the room.
Monotone. Empty. But undeniably human-shaped.
"Hello, Aera Solis. You are early."
Everyone raised their weapons.
Aera didn't move. "Who are you?"
"I am Syrix. I have been observing potential variables for systemic peace. You are… anomalous."
"Gee, thanks," Aera muttered.
"You possess both high emotional output and irrational decision patterns—yet survival rates remain consistently above predicted thresholds."
Elian frowned. "It's… calculating her?"
"Not just me," Aera said quietly. "All of us."
"Correction. Only you."
The lights dimmed. The interface changed—pulling up simulation after simulation. Warzones. Battle maps. Dialogues. Dozens of iterations of Aera making decisions. Leading. Failing. Winning. Falling.
Dying.
And in every single one—Kael appeared as a constant.
"You've been simulating our war," she said, her voice low.
"No. I have been simulating your future."