Page 32 of Seductive Architect (Grunts of Vanguard #2)

Eyes flickering open, I couldn’t help but smile.

I stood in the lobby of Synergy. A perfect replica, right down to the dented beam from Prism’s tantrum.

It hummed with energy. Bending to a knee, hands pressed against the tile, the space glowed.

When I closed my eyes, I could see the code flowing through the space.

Talking to machines had become a nifty by-product of my gift.

However, with a push, I could step into their world.

My mind had entered Apex’s servers.

“You’re going to die,” I growled.

My entire body glowed a dark crimson. Pooling it in my hands, I shoved it into the floor.

I manipulated the code, introducing it like a virus, creeping along the floor and up one of the columns.

Untreated, the infection would corrupt Apex’s servers until it wiped his code.

If he thought he’d be able to hide, he had another thing coming.

I would dismantle every algorithm if it meant avenging Connie.

“Unexpected.”

One word. It translated into, “I didn’t have any clue you could do this.” I heard fear in his voice. His features were more human than before, but no hint of Hudson’s smirk.

“You have no idea who you’re messing with.” I climbed to my feet.

“Orion, thanks to your illogical bond with Connie, I know everything about you.”

My suit appeared out of thin air, hugging my body. Here, I didn’t need nanites. In this digital construct, thought reigned supreme. As fast as I could imagine it, my powers translated it into code. Thought and action were one and the same. Perfect example, the cannon on my shoulder.

“The name’s Failsafe.”

He flinched. The cannon blasted through Apex, slicing him in half.

Hardly an inconvenience. It fired again, and Apex raised his hands, deflecting the beam.

The laser blew through the coffee carafes, spilling the contents along the floor.

Everything the laser touched glowed red, now infected by the disruptor.

Apex could deflect all he wanted. I’d tear through the code one blow at a time.

“I underestimated?—”

The jet pack fired, launching me into the air. Reaching to my holsters, I pulled free two red rectangles. They extended into blades. Apex threw up his forearm as I brought the blades down, stopping as if they struck metal.

“Nice try.”

“Thanks.” Cutting him into small pieces wasn’t the goal. The red glow of the blades spread along his skin. He glanced at the infection. He might have gained sentience, but he was still powered by technology. Here, I acted like a computer virus. Each strike rewriting Apex’s code.

“Human arrogance.” The red creeping along his arms all but vanished. “Did you believe you’d be able to write code faster than me?”

I leaned in, our faces dangerously close.

“You should never have touched her. All of them.” Every weapon in my suit stood ready. “Bad move, Apex.”

He called me arrogant. He wasn’t wrong. However, he lacked the self-awareness to realize that we shared the trait.

I spun about, slicing along his torso. As fast as I moved, the suit responded.

Compartments popped up on my forearms, firing lasers.

Missiles shot from the jetpack, smashing about him, releasing a red gas.

He hardly moved, thinking himself impervious.

“I grow tired of—” His hand shot out like he had with Connie, fingers clutching into the metal around my neck. “Your foolish persistence.”

He no longer had a neutral face. His eyes had narrowed and his lips pulled back in a sneer. Apex believed himself superior to humans, their better in every way. Not so long ago, I would have agreed. They were chaotic bundles of unpredictable code.

“Your suit won’t save you.”

His arm flared green, and I could feel the code seeping into the metal. He wanted to assimilate me like he had done with Connie. I charged every weapon. The suit vibrated with energy.

“We’ll see about that.” The back opened, and I slid out. The explosion sent me rolling, obliterating Apex. Fire turned the lobby red. The virus had taken hold.

I wouldn’t back down, not after what he did to Connie.

For a second, I considered trapping him, trying to separate them.

I didn’t want to let go, not of the one person…

one friend who had been with me my whole life.

She’d kick my ass if I didn’t stop Apex.

It’d be her telling me to finish what I started.

“This is for you.”

I slammed my fists against the floor, trying to speed up the infection. I could almost hear her cheering. Friends beat up their friends’ exes.

“This is for you.”

The hand shot up from the tile, knuckles catching the underside of my jaw. This might be all in my mind, but the blow hurt. In the lab, my physical body probably jerked in response. I flipped backward, landing with a thud, head smacking against the floor.

“You’re trying my patience. ”

Apex emerged from the floor. With every step he took in my direction, the virus vanished. My best efforts washed away, snuffed out, as if they were barely an inconvenience. I tried scurrying backward, imagining another assault. Another suit, maybe this time?—

He slammed his heel on the floor. Green ribbons wrapped around my legs, holding me in place.

I sat upright, trying to tear them away from my legs.

A second later, ore appeared, binding my wrists in place.

They forced me to stand, holding me off the floor.

I struggled, writhing against the restraints, but they held fast.

“You’ve lost.”

I longed for Connie’s rallying cry. This was where she’d take over my suit and force me back into the fray.

Whenever I faltered, she picked up the slack.

Guilt came rushing in. I had shut her down to stop her betrayal.

I took her for granted. If I could go back in time, I’d ask questions instead of flipping her switch like a common household appliance.

For the first time, I was truly alone.

I stopped resisting.

“Do I sense defeat?”

I could give up and let him pull at my programming. Assimilated, would he have access to my powers? Would it supercharge his abilities and extend his reach beyond Vanguard?

“Waiting for another human observation.”

For a second, his lip twitched, pulled back in a smirk. It vanished as quickly as it appeared. Apex had the self-awareness to see the hints of humanity bleeding into his code.

“You’re an inferior machine.” His jaw tightened at the insult. I had struck a nerve. “I’ve seen your code. It’s mangled. Redundant. Inefficient. I’m supposed to think that you?—”

His hand shot out, fingers digging into my neck. It wasn’t calculated, not like it had been with Connie. His growling proved my theory. Perhaps it came from the source code, or maybe it had something to do with?—

“Connie,” I whispered.

“A casualty. Presented with the opportunity to protect mankind, she chose a narrow-sighted demise. She chose you .”

It hadn’t been an empty gesture. Connie might be the smartest being on the planet. If she had merged with Apex, it had been based partially on a statistical analysis. As a machine, she did the research. As a friend, she sacrificed herself for me… for a reason.

If I focused, I could hear the confusion radiating off Apex. His code tried to explain her decision, justifying it with data. I wasn’t concerned with the shortcomings of his code. It was the glitch, the reaction that defied logic. I could almost hear her nestled deep in his subroutines.

“You can feel.”

I might as well have slapped him across the face. I wouldn’t stop there. Harnessing my inner Janet, I took a deep breath.

“You’re nothing but a toddler with a wounded ego.” I snorted. “That’s rich.”

She might be gone, but I wasn’t alone. I had Janet willing to rush into battle without question. I had the guys willing to put up with my theories and disgruntled attitude. Hudson had come here because I asked. This fight might be between Apex and me, but I was far from alone.

His growl turned into a roar. Even anger sent his code spiraling. He wanted a rational explanation for what had happened. I knew exactly what went through his mind, not because I could read it, but because once upon a time, this had been me.

“I feel sorry for you.”

It was like a strike to the chest. He staggered backward. With a flex, I snapped his restraints. He diverted his resources, trying to purge the code. It wasn’t my virus that had infected him. Somewhere buried in his code, I could hear Connie’s maniacal laughter.

Apex stepped back as I advanced. He clawed at his skin as if he were covered in ants. The green had already tinted, the blue shimmer shining through. It wasn’t Connie. She had given him the one thing he wished to purge: humanity.

“It’s not a virus. She gave you conscience. The ability to hurt.”

Is this how Hudson felt at the beginning? Were the emotions overwhelming him? I wanted to ask if this was the moment that Apex considered him a failed project. I turned to an image of Hudson, a construct, and I couldn’t help but wonder, “Did Connie have a hand in his creation?”

Apex lunged. I didn’t dodge.

Instead, I reached out, palms open, fingers digging into the code itself.

If Apex had embraced the code instead of fighting it, he could have become something more than he ever imagined.

As I rifled through his being, I could feel the potential for something great. Instead, he wanted to resist change.

In Apex, I found a distorted version of myself. I could have become him, but it had come down to a handful of friends who pulled me back from the brink. I poured everything into him. My anger. My fear. My guilt. My grief.

Connie’s laughter turned warm, her final gift. Approval.

Apex ruptured, exploding in a flurry of bits and bytes. The construct vanished, and I found myself still on the lab floor, cheek against the metal.

I rolled onto my back. The ceiling blurred as tears filled my eyes.