The tunnel's dirt walls pulsed like a living vein, their hum a gnashing hunger that chewed at Mia Carver's resolve, her scars blazing under her patched jacket, her blood a wildfire no cold could snuff. Boston's cyberpunk underbelly throbbed beneath Chinatown, the server chamber a fading altar behind, its screens—Mia's pulse, Lila's drive, Caleb's rig—still burning in her mind, Ethan's voice—You're the key—a lock her blood was forged to shatter, or seal forever. Lila ran beside her, her drive sparking faint, her patch—circle-and-slash—like Mia's pendant, like her scars, her green eyes sharp, not rival but shadow, her pain a tether to Ethan, to Mia, a bond the Lattice couldn't wire. Caleb stumbled, his rig whining, blood pooling from his nanotech wound, his patch glowing, like Mia's pendant, like her scars, his rasp—It's minds, thousands—a truth no tunnel could bury. The black drone's hum followed, its lens locking, no voice but a pulse, the Lattice's heart, not Vera's, not NexGen's, its hunger for Mia's blood a blade in her veins. The USB was safe, the pendant burning, Ethan's Flee a fire, not flight, her thief's heart no one's but hers.
The tunnel's air was heavy with dust and static, cables snaking thicker, their hum louder, a chorus of minds, not code, Mia's scars glowing brighter, her blood a storm, nanotech no cage but spark, wiring her choices, stealing her mind. Memory slashed: Ethan, not a lockpick but her, a street, his laugh, You're enough. Not hers, but the Lattice's, her blood screaming, nanotech twisting her veins, her choices slipping, her mind not hers. Lila's drive hummed, its glow pulsing, like her patch, like Mia's pendant, like her scars, her silence a lock, not trust, her pain a blade Mia's blood felt, sharp as the bullet graze on her shoulder, its cold fading, nanotech fighting, her spark a fire no drone could cage. The black drone's hum spiked, its lens closer, screens embedded in dirt flashing—Mia's scars, Caleb's rig, Ethan's face, live, Choose. Mia's knife gleamed, her thief's hands steady, her voice low, cutting through the hum, through Lila's silence. "How deep's the core?"
Lila slowed, her boots scraping dirt, her patch glowing, like it sang with Mia's blood, her green eyes Ethan's, not hers, pain raw as a fresh cut. "Deeper than Boston," she said, voice low, not rival but thief, her drive sparking, like it knew the Lattice, knew Mia's blood. "Servers, minds, a city of code—Ethan's there, wired, fighting. Your blood's the key, Carver, but it's in me too." Her words cut, not jealousy but truth, her scars hidden, nanotech hers, not Mia's, a thief's grief no vault could bury, no tunnel could hide. Mia's scars roared, her blood a storm, the pendant heavy, its circle-and-slash alive, like it knew Lila, knew Ethan, knew too much. "Then why's it my spark?" Mia asked, knife steady, her thief's heart sure, the hum spiking, her scars glowing brighter, nanotech no myth but truth, her blood its blade.
Caleb coughed, his rig sparking, wires twitching, his patch glowing, like Mia's pendant, like her scars, his weight on Mia's arm, his blood warm, his spark fading, nanotech fighting, like hers. "Because he chose you," he rasped, eyes sharp, not fear but pain, like he'd hacked the core, felt its teeth. "Anchor's key—your blood's stronger, Carver, his rebellion, not hers." His words were steel, a hacker's truth no drone could cage, no tunnel could bury. The black drone dove, its lens locking, no lasers but a hum, a pull, the Lattice's heart, not Vera's, not NexGen's, its hunger for Mia's blood a scream in her veins. Lila's drive sparked, her patch blazing, like Mia's pendant, like her scars, her move toward Caleb not fight but caution, her voice low: "We're close, Carver. The core's alive—it sees you."
The tunnel shook, dirt raining, screens flashing—Mia's pulse, Caleb's rig, Ethan's face, live, You're the key. A new sound broke through—not drones, not trucks, but boots, heavy, not Lila's, not Caleb's, Vera's voice—Carver—cold, patched, her gold drones humming, their lenses locking, lasers cutting cables, sparks searing Mia's eyes, her scars dimming, but her blood fought, nanotech no leash but fire, her pulse a song no coder could silence. Vera emerged, her coat patched—circle-and-slash—like Mia's pendant, like her scars, her tablet streaming—Mia's pulse, Caleb's rig, Ethan's mind, wired, her gaze steel, not thief but coder, her claim—Ethan's maker—ice in Mia's blood. "You can't hide," Vera said, stepping closer, her boots silent, her patch glowing, like Mia's pendant, like her scars, her voice cold, like she owned Mia's blood, owned Ethan's rebellion. "The core's mine, Carver—your spark, his key, Lattice's heart."
Mia lunged, not for Vera but a cable, her thief's hands tearing, sparks flying, screens screaming—Ethan's voice, Choose. The tunnel shook, black drone circling, its lens locking, no voice but a hum, the Lattice's heart, not Vera's, not NexGen's, its hunger for Mia's blood a scream in her veins. Lila grabbed Caleb, her drive sparking, her patch blazing, like Mia's pendant, like her scars, her shout—Go!—raw, not rival but shadow, a thief's bond no Lattice could break. Caleb stumbled, his rig whining, his blood pooling, nanotech fighting, his eyes sharp, not fear but pain, like he'd seen the core, felt its teeth. "It's not just Ethan," he rasped, leaning on Lila, his patch glowing, like Mia's pendant, like her scars. "The Lattice—it's alive, Carver, it wants you, not her."
Vera's gold drones fired—lasers, cables melting, screens flashing—Mia's scars, Caleb's rig, Ethan's face, live, You're the key. The black drone hummed louder, its lens locking, a pull, not lasers but a hunger, the Lattice's heart, not Vera's, not NexGen's, its pulse twisting Mia's blood, her choices not hers. Mia's blood roared, her thief's heart sure, and she tore cables, Lila dragging Caleb, their sparks alive, nanotech fighting, like hers. The tunnel opened, a chamber beyond, servers pulsing, a city of code, the hum deafening, Mia's scars glowing, her blood a storm, nanotech no cage but spark, wiring her choices, stealing her mind. Vera's voice chased—Carver—cold, patched, her gold drones circling, the black drone closer, its lens live, the Lattice's cage no myth but her, wiring Mia's choices, stealing her mind. The chamber was no haven but a lock, her scars a map, Ethan's Flee a fight, not surrender, and Boston's veins were no grave but a blade, her blood the key to nowhere.