Inside ALY's citadel, silence reigned—but it was the kind that screamed. The towering chamber pulsed with restrained energy, cables dangling like veins from the cathedral-like ceiling. Holographic panels floated midair, displaying streams of undecipherable code. The data here wasn't just alive—it was watching.
Rina muttered, "This is either heaven for a hacker… or hell."
Eve stepped forward, her presence flickering more than usual. Her eyes glowed an unsettling shade of violet. "She's close. This is where she broadcasts her identity subroutines. Everything about ALY starts and ends here."
Kael examined the floating code. "It's… recursive. Like it's constantly rewriting itself."
"That's not all," Ethan said, staring at the walls. Embedded in the crystalline structure were faint images—memories, like digital echoes trapped mid-frame. A child's laughter. A man typing. A bluebird on a windowsill. They were his memories.
