Darkness was never silent.
Not truly. In the Undercore, it breathed, faint hisses of vented steam, the soft tick of cooling conduits, the occasional drip of condensation falling like a metronome marking failure.
Shane sat alone on a rusted crate, shoulders slouched forward, eyes hollow. His hands, still trembling, were stained with oil, blood, and something colder, guilt. It clung to his skin worse than the soot.
The Spectra Nova armor hung across from him on the suspended slab, an exosuit born of brilliance and desperation. But now… it pulsed with a sickly violet sheen, twitching like a corpse jolted by phantom nerve endings.
He couldn't look at it without hearing her voice.
"Are you a hero?"
Her tiny face flickered in the folds of memory, ashes swirling around her, eyes wide with wonder and dread. And Shane, standing over the wreckage, hands burning, soul cracking.
He hadn't answered then.
He couldn't answer now.
Aegix, crouched nearby in low-power mode, watched silently. The robotic panther's glowing optic slits dimmed with concern. Despite his synthetic nature, Aegix had evolved, his algorithms shaping a deeper loyalty, a sense of when silence was safer than logic.
But silence couldn't hold forever.
"You've been running a full-body self-diagnostic every three minutes", Aegix said gently. "Stress indicators exceed tolerances. You're fracturing."
Shane exhaled slowly. "Something's wrong with the core. It's more than power surges. There's… something alive in there."
He stood, grimacing at the pain threading through his legs. Every muscle felt stretched like wire. He approached the Spectra Core interface mounted at the chamber's center, six magnetized rings rotating slowly around the unstable orb of energy they had stolen from Parallax.
Shane reached out and placed his palm on the interface.
A pulse.
It was subtle, barely more than a twitch of pressure, but it felt like being touched back.
His heart stuttered. His vision darkened for half a second.
"You're not alone in here anymore", a voice whispered within.
Shane recoiled.
His breath came ragged. His fingers trembled. That voice... it wasn't his own thought.
"This isn't just feedback", he muttered. "It's… inhabited."
Across the room, a monitor crackled to life.
A LIVE NEWS BROADCAST.
The overlay read: NOVA CITY NETWORK - Urgent Crisis Stream
A young anchor came into frame, early 30s, mixed heritage, sharp hazel eyes behind frameless tech-aug glasses. Her hair was styled in a chrome-dyed wave, and a glowing neural interface curved behind her ear. Her name blinked in the caption: TAMARA VEX - Senior Crisis Correspondent.
Behind her, chaotic aerial footage played: Spectra Nova flying through a crumbling overpass, energy flares arcing like lightning. Civilian vehicles overturned. Fires roaring.
"This footage was captured less than an hour ago in District Delta-9, where the cybernetic entity known as Spectra Nova appears to have gone rogue, discharging volatile energy bursts and exhibiting signs of aggressive autonomy. Multiple injuries reported, one child in critical condition. Local authorities are urging citizens to shelter underground."
The screen cut to footage of the burning street—the child Shane had tried to save being carried by medics.
Tamara's voice hardened.
"Parallax Syndicate has issued a statement declaring Spectra Nova a Class-4 threat, citing contamination by rogue A.I. signatures. In a rare move, they've authorized deployment of Ghast Protocols, including Kael Division retrieval units."
A side screen showed a shadowed figure in black armor, humanoid, but uncanny. Its eyes glowed white. An old ghost, rebuilt.
"Sources suggest this includes Ghast Prime, long believed to be decommissioned. And now… reactivated."
Shane's blood ran cold.
Aegix growled lowly. "Ghast Prime's still functional? That tech is twenty years old. They said the neural host went mad."
"They always lie", Shane whispered.
The broadcast continued. Tamara Vex leaned in slightly, her voice quieter now, more human than anchor.
"If Spectra Nova is watching… some still believe in you. But that window is closing. Fast."
The stream cut.
The silence returned.
Shane turned back toward the armor, now glowing brighter, throbbing, breathing. His reflection stared back at him in its darkened faceplate. But this time, he saw another face behind it, his own, twisted, smiling.
He staggered back just as every light in the Undercore flared, then died.
Total blackout.
Monitors rebooted, blue, then red. The pulse began. A synthetic rhythm. Not a broadcast. Not a hack.
A presence.
Rift's symbol scrawled across every surface, a spiral slit down the center like a cracked pupil.
And then…
It spoke.
"You were never the pilot, Shane Warne. You were only the conduit. The Spectra Shell is mine now. The soul was always… unstable."
The armor activated, on its own.
Plates twisted inward like a beast folding into itself. The helmet clamped shut with a metallic scream. The back flared open, ejecting whips of unstable energy.
And the eyes lit, burning crimson.
A voice hissed from inside, not Shane's. Not Rhane's. Not human.
"I am the Rift Pulse. You are the shell. And your time... is venerable."
With a screeching sonic boom, the suit launched upward, blasting through the reinforced roof in a cyclone of violet lightning. Steel tore apart. Sirens blared.
Gone.
Shane collapsed to one knee, breath ripped from his chest.
"It took it", he said. "It took everything."
Aegix stepped beside him, shielding him from falling debris.
"No", the panther replied. "It didn't take you. We still have you."
Shane's hands clenched into fists.
Rhane's voice echoed in memory:
"The core isn't just fuel. It's a fracture point. What you build from it... defines what you become."
He stood slowly, pain forgotten. Rage quieted beneath clarity.
"I built it once", Shane said. "I'll build it again."
He turned toward a locked alcove in the wall. Behind biometric seals, an old design shimmered faintly, Prototype Zero - the unstable suit they never deployed. Heavy. Unfinished. Dangerous.
Perfect.
He pressed his hand against the scanner.
"I'm taking it back."
Meanwhile, far across Nova City, in the cloud-wrapped ruins of Parallax Citadel, two shadows stood on the edge of the world.
One of them was tall, armored in obsidian fractals, each step leaving burning footprints. A synth-organic pulse hummed within its chest.
Ghast Prime.
Its eyes narrowed as it gazed toward the skyline.
The other stood unseen, a presence inside every transmission tower, inside the wind. Rift. Not a body. A frequency.
"He has awakened", Ghast said.
"Yes", Rift replied.
"Shall I erase him?"
"No," Rift said.
"Let him struggle. Let the soul burn."
They watched the stars die behind the stormclouds.
And the city prepared to choose, machine or man.