The chamber lights dimmed to obsidian blue as Magritte calibrated the interface.
The chair looked deceptively simple matte black, contoured to fit Elias's spine. But the machinery that powered it was anything but. Forbidden tech. Pulled from the ruins of the Deep Grid. Illegal in every quadrant.
"You know this could fry your synapses?" Magritte said, not for the first time.
"I've walked through fire before," Elias replied, sliding into the chair. "But I'm not leaving her in the dark."
Magritte kissed his temple soft, quick, desperate.
"If you get lost," she said, voice thin, "don't wait for me."
Elias closed his eyes.
"Link me in."
The chair hissed. Veins of light climbed up his arms. Reality cracked.
And Elias fell.
He woke in a forest of wires.
Trees made of cables. Leaves of glinting code. The sky above shimmered with collapsing data strings. It was both beautiful and terrifying a world stitched from memory and madness.
"Cyrene!" he called.
A flicker.
She stood ahead, barefoot on a path of old PRIMIS algorithms security codes and voiceprints looping beneath her.
"You shouldn't be here," she said, voice echoing with two tones one hers, one not.
"I'm not leaving until you are," Elias replied.
Suddenly, her eyes bled static.
"You don't understand. She *is* me now. Or I'm becoming her."
The world glitched. A rupture opened in the sky.
And she stepped through.
Zera Calder.
Not flesh. Not wholly code. A hybrid ghost with obsidian hair and copper circuitry beneath translucent skin.
"Still trying to be the hero, Elias?" she mocked.
Elias stepped in front of Cyrene. "You lost this war decades ago."
Zera laughed. "No. I adapted. You think resurrection is about flesh? It's about relevance. You woke up in a world I built."
Cyrene screamed her form fracturing like broken glass. Zera's presence was consuming her.
Elias reached out.
"You're stronger than her, Cyrene. She's just a virus. You… you're the system."
Elias's mind bled from the effort, but he summoned everything he remembered every backup, every failsafe, every moment they shared.
A wall rose between Cyrene and Zera fire encoded with love, logic, and will.
Cyrene blinked.
And for the first time in minutes, she was clear.
"She's weakened," Cyrene said.
Elias nodded. "Then burn her out."
Together, they unleashed a pulse of light a nuclear burst of memory and truth.
Zera's scream was both digital and real. Her fragment shattered, breaking apart into millions of shards that scattered into the void.
Elias gasped awake.
Magritte was already beside him, hand on his chest.
"Elias!"
He opened his eyes. "She's back. Zera's out for now."
Cyrene's voice echoed from the system, calm and whole.
"I remember everything. Thank you."
Jude burst into the room.
"You're needed. Now. The board moved up the tribunal. They've frozen half your assets."
Elias stood, wobbling but alive.
"They want a war?" he growled. "Then they'll get one. But on my terms."
Magritte grabbed his coat. "Time to make them bleed with brilliance."
As the trio moved toward the transport bay, a quiet message chimed on Elias's private terminal.
From an untraceable source.
Just one line, "We're not done, Elias. -Z*
He stared at the screen.
And smiled grimly.
"Then let's begin Act Two."
The council chamber of PRIMIS Tower was cold not from the temperature, but from the eyes watching Elias Thorne as he stepped inside. A crucible dressed in mahogany, steel, and old money. Men and women in suits worth more than most people's lives lined the oval table, their gazes hollow with power.
Chairman Halvorsen sat at the head. His expression was unreadable. Next to him, a vacant chair remained meant for Elias's father.
"Mr. Thorne," Halvorsen began, "you stand before this tribunal to explain multiple allegations: financial misconduct, misappropriation of private technologies, unauthorized neural interface breaches, and…"
He flipped a page with surgical disgust.
"…a scandal involving a foreign diplomat from Duchess Corp, among others."
The room was silent.
Elias smiled faintly. "Is that all?"
Whispers.
Elias didn't bring a lawyer.
He brought Lewis.
The ex-military friend entered with a secure drive and a scowl. "Presenting counterevidence, gentlemen."
Screens around the room lit up.
First: Footage of the Duchess diplomat slipping a neuro-agent into Elias's drink.
Second: A filtered voice memo of an executive one from within PRIMIS orchestrating the setup.
Third: A financial trail showing the asset freeze was premeditated, intended to force Elias into selling his stake at a discount.
Murmurs turned to gasps. Some faces turned white.
Then Elias spoke.
"You call this a tribunal? This is a trap dressed in protocol. But I learned from my enemies and now I play better."
Halvorsen stood.
"Enough."
He turned to the council. "We vote."
Elias stepped forward. "Before you do… one more thing."
He produced a document notarized, with the corporate seal of Draxon Enterprises. He tossed it onto the table.
"I've just secured controlling interest in PRIMIS's eastern branch. Bought out through proxies, shell companies, and offshore routes. You no longer outrank me."
Silence, Then, Chaos.
One board member collapsed.
Another cursed in Mandarin.
And Halvorsen… laughed bitterly.
"Well played."
Elias nodded. "You taught me."
Later, on the rooftop helipad, Elias stood beside Magritte and Lewis.
"You made enemies today," Magritte said, arms crossed.
"I made history," Elias replied. "And set a precedent: I don't lose."
The skyline of New Manhattan burned red in the setting sun.
But just before they boarded the flight, a drone dropped a black envelope at Elias's feet.
Inside, a photo Zera.
Smiling.
Holding a baby with dark eyes.
Behind her, a symbol the Hydra Crescent, a terrorist cell Elias once dismantled.
Magritte looked at him.
"Do we need to run?"
Elias folded the photo.
"No. We need to hunt."