It started with a quake.
Not deep—close.
Kael felt it through the floor before the alarm even triggered.
Mira was already on her feet, pulling data from the console.
"Zone breach," she said. "But it's not coming in. It's forming."
Juno moved to the upper deck. "Nothing came through the outer rim?"
"Nothing," Mira said. "It's not arriving—it's building itself here."
They were in motion fast.
No plan.
Just instinct.
Kael activated his Frame. Armor snapped into place, clean and sharp. He didn't hesitate.
Juno followed, her blades humming as they formed over her gauntlets. Her blue suit glinted under the low light, still matte, still precise.
Mira dropped beside them last—her violet armor flickering into focus like liquid glass.
Then Ryke landed behind them.
Heavy.
Steady.
Bronze energy cracked across his knuckles.
For the first time—
They looked like a team.
They followed the pulse across rooftops.
Sector 7—abandoned tech yard.
The breach was visible now.
A dome of static surrounded a small street, warping light like a bubble about to pop.
Kael stopped just outside it, heart pounding.
Juno scanned it. "It's folding reality inside. Compressing."
Mira's voice was tight. "Nullborn… or something else."
Then the static shattered.
And something stepped out.
It looked like a Frame.
But wrong.
Too clean. Too polished. Armor smooth and white, lined with gold—like someone had made their own version of a Valiant.
Its movements were too calm.
It looked at Kael directly.
"REDEEM.EXE. Confirmed."
"Replication initiated."
Kael stepped forward.
Helmet down.
Voice low.
"We're not replicating anything."
The white suit charged.
Kael met it head-on.
The clash shook the street—two suits of equal speed, but only one built from failure. Kael wasn't faster.
He was meaner.
He drove his knee into the thing's midsection, spun, and launched it into a wall. The replica recovered fast—no emotion, no words.
Mira stepped in behind, launching a burst of sound-based decoys that fragmented its sensors.
"Now!" she shouted.
Juno came from the side—blades crossed—and cut deep into its right shoulder.
"He's open—Ryke!"
The ground cracked.
Ryke's fist hit like a dropped building.
The replica flew across the street, armor cracking.
Then it did something new.
It stood.
Raised both arms.
And split.
Into four glitching copies.
Kael's eyes widened. "No way."
"They're learning from us," Juno growled.
"Then we fight like us," Kael said.
He looked at them—one by one.
No nods. No poses.
But they moved.
Together.
Kael took the lead—drawing two of the fakes to him, tanking hits, redirecting with speed and instinct.
Juno split high, running up debris and dropping down hard with a diagonal slice.
Mira used distortion to bait one clone into a corner—and rigged the environment to collapse in on it.
Ryke waited.
Timed it.
Then grabbed the last fake and slammed it into a core fuse.
One by one—
The copies failed.
And the final replica, sparking and damaged, looked up at Kael.
"This system… rejects unity."
Kael raised his arm.
"Then maybe we're the bug."
He fired point-blank.
The replica shattered.
Silence.
Then breathing.
Then stillness.
They didn't cheer.
But no one moved alone.
They stood together.
Not just synced—
Aligned.