Midnight.
A cold wind slid through the broken windows of The Nest.
And then—
Silence snapped.
A tripwire fizzed.A motion node blinked red.And Riven moved.
He didn't run.He watched.
Ember entered like smoke through the upper level, visor sweeping the dark.She didn't trigger alarms—she disarmed them before they blinked.
"Nice setup," she whispered."But I built mazes like this before he was born."
She stepped forward—
CLACK.
A tile sank.
BOOM.
A burst-charge detonated the stair rail. Shrapnel flew.
She didn't flinch—just pivoted, rolled, landed hard.
"Cute."
Riven tracked her from the lower level, using Ghostwire to blur presence.She passed within six feet of him and never looked his way.
He raised TOOLHAND.
Not to fire—
To redirect.
He triggered the vent coil.
Superheated steam shot into the corridor.
Ember reacted fast—too fast.
She wasn't guessing.
She knew how he thought.
"You're building like Lazarus," she called."Predictable brilliance. Sharp. But linear."
Riven's heart froze.
"You knew Lazarus?""I hunted him."
And that's when it clicked.
This wasn't about the cube.
This was about what Riven was becoming.
Another Ghost Seed. Another Lazarus.
He re-routed all power to the pulse core.
Lit up the entire Nest.
"I'm not him.""No," Ember said, raising her weapon."But you will be."
The shot screamed—Riven ducked—The wall behind him blew out—And the Nest began to fall apart.