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CY

T he junction chamber opened before us like a cathedral of failing technology. The central hub—a massive cylindrical structure where all lines connected—rose from the center of the floor like a sacrificial altar, its surfaces crawling with data projections and warning alerts.

Beta squadron had established a perimeter.

Thirty troops at least, their featureless masks reflecting the erratic Stellarium light as they stood in perfect formation.

Between them, kneeling on the metal grating with hands bound behind their backs, were the rebels—maybe a dozen figures, heads bowed in defeat.

And Eon.

She knelt apart from the others. Even from this distance, I could see the violet sparks dancing ineffectively across her skin, her power weak. Her face was bruised, blood trickling from her nose, but her eyes still burned with defiance as she stared up at the soldiers surrounding her.

Maddox set Taos down with the others, then we joined the ranks, not ready to out ourselves yet. My helmet fed me tactical data, but I didn’t need it to know the truth. There were too many assets for a frontal assault, and any crossfire would risk hitting Eon.

I opened a secure comms channel between Maddox and me. “We need a diversion,” I muttered, scanning the room for vulnerabilities. “If we can trigger a localized system failure, we might—”

“Cy.” Maddox’s voice was low, urgent. “Look.”

I followed his gaze to the entrance, where a new group had entered. Four figures in POM’s tailored suits—reserved for bodyguard work—flanked a fifth. He walked with the casual confidence of someone who’d never known true opposition, whose steps were paved with power.

Levi Amere.

The CEO of POM Enterprises didn’t belong here—not in a failing data center in Magenta, not surrounded by security agents in the middle of a tactical operation.

Yet he moved through the space as if it were simply another board meeting, his all-black suit untouched by the deteriorating environment around him.

“What the fuck…?” I breathed.

Behind Levi, his security team wheeled in a sleek white pod—an xVR cradle, its translucent casing revealing the neural interface web inside. Military-grade. Not the entertainment models. The same kind we used for specialized training.

My blood went cold.

The beta commander approached Levi, exchanging words we couldn’t hear from our position. Levi nodded, then moved toward Eon, his gaze fixed on her with an intensity that made me absolutely sick.

“What’s the play?” Maddox whispered, his hand already on his sidearm.

I didn’t have an answer. Any intervention now would be suicide—for us and for Eon. But doing nothing meant letting whatever Levi had planned unfold unchallenged.

“We wait,” I finally said, the words bitter in my mouth. “Watch for an opening.”

Maddox nodded, though his silence told me he understood what that really meant: we might not find one.

Levi stopped before Eon, looking down at her with a smile that never reached his eyes. Even from our position, his voice carried clearly through the chamber, the acoustics amplifying his cultured tones.

“Ms. Ibarra. A pleasure, as always. Although the circumstances could be improved.”

Eon spat at his feet, earning a sharp blow from the nearest beta agent. Her head snapped to the side, but she righted herself immediately, eyes blazing.

“Charming,” Levi remarked. “I can see why you did so well with our alpha assets.”

“I must confess,” he continued, circling her like a predator, “when Texcucano reported your involvement in the shield technology theft, I was skeptical. But oh, how you’ve impressed me—unlike anything we’ve recorded in years of Flux research.

After the electromagnetic signature you left during the data center breach six months ago, we suspected, but we needed to be certain.

The tests we’ve run during your…collaboration with our assets have confirmed it. ”

He gestured, and one of his aides handed him a data pad. Levi studied it briefly, then turned the screen toward Eon, showing her something that made her eyes widen.

“Yes, you recognize it, don’t you? The code you wrote. At the heart of everything. But I can see you don’t fully understand yet.”

He turned to the xVR cradle, running his hand almost lovingly over its surface. “There’s something you must see, Ms. Ibarra.”

Levi waved his hand, and the two officers dragged Eon toward the capsule.

She fought it, digging her heels into the steel grate and thrashing in their grip.

Her Flux sparked, but it wasn’t strong enough, not after our fight.

I’d doomed her just to feel her. I’d done this.

I took a step forward, but Maddox shifted in front of me.

“She’ll be okay,” he said.

“You don’t know that. Don’t know what the fuck he’s gonna do to her in there.

” A few minutes in reality could be hours of torture in xVR—literally.

I’d seen reports of pain turned up to max until the participant’s heart gave out, then restarting it over and over until they either gave in or the system fried their brain.

And with this vessel shit Taos was talking about…

Maddox must’ve seen it on my face. “No reason for him to torture her. They’ve already lost.”

“Then what the fuck is he doing?”

Maddox clenched his jaw. “You can’t save her. Not here.”

“I could try.”

“I’m on your side, but dying here won’t change anything. For once in your fucking life, listen to me, so you have a chance to help her later.”

He was risking everything for me, so I stayed put. But as I saw Eon struggle, I found myself—for the first time in my life—praying he was right.

Below us, Eon continued to resist as they forced her toward the cradle. Her gaze swept the room desperately, and for a heartbeat, we connected across the chamber. Recognition flashed in her violet irises, followed immediately by something else—not a plea for help, but a warning.

Then Levi stepped between us, blocking my view of her. He gestured to the commander, who brought over a hardwire connection to the server. Levi inserted it into the cradle’s control panel, and the system hummed to life, its interior illuminating with a soft white glow.

One of the agents pressed a hypodermic needle to Eon’s neck, and her struggles immediately weakened. Not unconscious, but compliant. A neural paralytic that left her mind active, but her body unresponsive.

I watched as they strapped her into the cradle, holding her head still until the restraints were secured.

There was a soft hiss as the microneedles entered her brainstem.

Her eyes rolled back, and she went still.

The enforcers closed the tetraglass door—and there she was, a princess in a glass coffin.

The soft white light pulsed as her body twitched, her mind now captive to the xVR system.

But I wasn’t a prince. I couldn’t pull her out of that without killing her and getting myself killed in the process.

Levi placed his hand on the cradle’s surface, a gesture that seemed almost tender. “The human brain is remarkable,” he said to no one in particular.

He turned to the commander. “Begin the sequence. This shouldn’t take long.”

The server room shuddered around us, another wave of system failures rippling through the infrastructure. Warning alerts flashed across every operational display.

Levi seemed unconcerned by the imminent collapse, his attention fixed on the cradle and its occupant. “The building’s structural integrity?” he asked one of his aides.

“Holding within acceptable parameters. We’ll need to evacuate before final overload, but the timeline is sufficient.”

Levi nodded, satisfied. “Then proceed.”

A new holographic projection materialized beside Levi—Tex’s face, rendered in the blue light of a secure transmission. His expression was as unnaturally composed as ever, but there was something in his eyes I’d never seen before.

“Is the backup secure?” Levi asked.

“Yes. On standby,” Tex responded.

Levi waved his hand, and the hologram vanished. He walked over to where Taos’ unconscious body lay. His brow furrowed as he grabbed something that glowed around her neck. He yanked, the cord breaking before he pocketed it.

Eon’s body convulsed briefly in the cradle, the xVR system’s lights flickering with the neural mapping process. Her face twisted in pain or confusion, reacting to whatever the fuck he was forcing into her consciousness.

I could feel my own Flux rising in response to her distress, my implants struggling to regulate the surge. The pain was excruciating—but I welcomed it. Pain meant I was still alive. Still able to fight.

I’d find a way to get her out of this.