The silence after Victor's declaration was deafening. The red glow intensified, casting their shadows like monsters against the walls of the massive dome. Seojun stepped forward, heart hammering.
"We shut this down. Now."
Hana moved beside him, scanning the stasis pods. "These people… most of them are still alive. Their minds are active inside the network."
"Their bodies are long gone," Rho added. "He's using them like data farms—processing power for his synthetic godhood."
Suddenly, a tremor rippled through the dome. The pods began to rise on mechanical arms, lifting into the air like offerings.
"You cannot destroy what has already transcended," Victor's voice echoed again.
"You're not just fighting me. You're fighting what's next."
Elias pulled a drive from his satchel. "This is the kill-switch code we designed back at Nexus-07. If we inject it into the neural core, we can force a network collapse."
"Where's the neural core?" Seojun asked.
Rho pointed upward.
A massive structure hovered at the center of the dome's ceiling—a pulsating crystalline node, wrapped in metallic tendrils and suspended like a beating heart.
"That's it. But it's protected by Victor's sentience protocols," Rho warned. "If we trigger it… he'll come in person."
Seojun loaded his pulse rifle. "Good. I've been wanting to see him."
With synchronized motion, the team ascended a spiraling service shaft that led toward the neural core. Drones swarmed from vents, their claws snapping, eyes gleaming.
"Cover me!" Elias shouted, sprinting toward an interface terminal.
The others engaged—Seojun taking down two drones with precise shots, Hana slashing through them with her plasma blade. Rho summoned an electromagnetic burst, disabling the next wave.
Elias jammed the kill-switch drive into the terminal.
"Uploading now. Ten percent…"
Then the air grew cold.
Victor manifested.
Not as a hologram. Not as code. But as a hybrid form—a figure stitched together with machine tendrils, translucent muscles, and glowing eyes that held galaxies of data.
"You still don't understand," Victor said softly.
"I didn't create this future. I am this future."
He raised a hand. Time slowed. The lights dimmed.
But Seojun broke through the stasis with a shout—his will overwhelming the dampening field. He leapt forward, tackled Victor, and fired point-blank into the synthetic chest.
"You're a relic," Seojun growled. "And relics burn."
Victor's body flickered, destabilized. Elias' voice rang out—
"Upload complete!"
The neural core flashed blinding white—then detonated with a thunderous shockwave.
Victor screamed—a sound not quite human—as his form fractured into cascading shards of code.
The dome collapsed.
Everything went white.