The server chamber shuddered, its pulse a roar that clawed at Mia Carver's bones, her scars blazing under her patched jacket, her blood a wildfire no drone could smother. Boston's cyberpunk heart thrummed beneath Chinatown, servers towering like black gods, their cables snaking like veins, screens screaming—Mia's pulse, Lila's drive, Caleb's rig, live—Ethan's face flickering, wired, hollow, his voice—You're the key—a lock her blood was forged to break, or bind forever. Vera stood before them, her coat patched—circle-and-slash—like Mia's pendant, like her scars, her tablet streaming their lives, her voice steel, not thief but coder, her claim—Ethan's maker—ice in Mia's blood. Caleb gripped Mia's arm, his rig sparking, wires twitching, his rasp—She's NexGen—lie—raw, a hacker's truth no vault could bury. Lila crouched, her drive sparking, her patch alive, her green eyes sharp, not rival but shadow, her pain tying her to Ethan, to Mia, a bond the Lattice couldn't wire. The gold drone hovered, its lens locking, lasers cutting cables, sparks searing Mia's eyes, the Lattice's cage wiring her choices, stealing her mind, her blood screaming, nanotech no cage but spark, her thief's heart no one's but hers.
The chamber's air was thick with ozone and dust, the hum a hymn, not electric but alive, Mia's scars glowing brighter, her blood a storm, like they saw Vera, saw the drones, saw Ethan's ghost. Memory slashed: Ethan, not a lab but her, a lockpick, his laugh, You're enough. Not hers, but the Lattice's, her blood roaring, nanotech wiring her veins, her choices slipping, her mind not hers. Vera's tablet flickered, Ethan's face looped—Flee—his scars new, his eyes hers, a mind trapped, not ash. "You can't run, Carver," Vera said, stepping closer, her boots silent, her patch glowing, like Mia's pendant, like her scars, her gaze cold, like she owned Mia's blood, owned Ethan's rebellion. "Your spark's mine—Anchor's key, Lattice's heart. Ethan wired you to serve, not save." Her words were steel, not lies but a coder's truth, a blade Mia's blood felt, sharp as the bullet graze on her shoulder, its cold lingering, nanotech fighting, her spark a fire no coder could chain.
Mia's knife gleamed, her thief's hands steady, her voice low, cutting through sparks, through Vera's ice. "You're not his maker," she said, scars pulsing, the hum hers, not servers, red drones breaking through, their lenses locking, NexGen's boots stomping above, their shouts sharp. "You're his cage." Caleb's rig sparked, his eyes flicking to Mia, not fear but pain, like he'd hacked Vera's lies, felt their thorns, his patch glowing, like her scars, like Ethan's spark. "She's right," he rasped, wires twitching, his rig whining, not NexGen's but Ethan's, a hacker's truth no drone could cage. Lila's drive hummed, her patch blazing, like Mia's pendant, like her scars, her move toward Caleb not fight but caution, her voice low: "The core's deeper, Carver. Ethan's there—his mind, not her code." Her green eyes were Ethan's, not hers, pain raw, a thief's truth no lock could hide, no chamber could bury.
The gold drone fired—lasers, cables melting, servers screaming, Mia's scars dimming, but her blood fought, nanotech no leash but fire, her pulse a song no coder could silence. Mia lunged, not for Vera but a server, her hands tearing cables, sparks flying, screens flashing—Ethan's voice, Choose. The chamber shook, red drones diving, their lenses live, bullets—not lasers—shredding steel, Vera's laugh cold, her tablet streaming—Mia's pulse, Caleb's rig, Ethan's mind, wired. "You're too late," Vera said, gold drones circling, their lenses locking, the Lattice's cage no myth but her, wiring Mia's choices, stealing her mind. Lila grabbed Mia, her drive sparking, her patch blazing, like Mia's pendant, like her scars, her shout—Move!—raw, not rival but shadow, a thief's bond no Lattice could break.
They dove for a hatch, rusted but real, Caleb stumbling, his rig sparking, his blood pooling, not from bullets but nanotech, his own spark wired, fighting, like Mia's. The hatch hissed open, a tunnel beyond, darker, colder, its cables thicker, their hum louder, a pulse not servers but minds, 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, not NexGen's but hers, the Lattice's tongue, twisting Mia's blood, her choices not hers. The tunnel was a vein, dirt walls pulsing, screens embedded, flashing—Mia's scars, Caleb's rig, Ethan's face, live, You're the key. Lila's drive glowed, her patch alive, like it knew Mia's blood, like it sang the same song. "Deeper," Lila said, voice low, her boots steady, not rival but thief, her pain raw, like Ethan's ghost bound them all. "The core's alive, Carver—it wants your blood."
Caleb coughed, his rig whining, wires twitching, his patch glowing, like Mia's pendant, like her scars, his eyes sharp, not fear but pain, like he'd seen the core, felt its hunger. "It's not just Ethan," he rasped, leaning on Mia, his blood warm, his spark fading, nanotech fighting, like hers. "The Lattice—it's minds, thousands, wired, not code but lives. Your blood's the key, Carver, to free them, or feed them." His words cut, not lies but truth, a hacker's truth no vault could bury, no tunnel could hide. The hum spiked, Mia's scars roared, and a new drone broke through—not gold, not red, but black, its lens locking, no voice but a hum, the Lattice's heart, not Vera's, not NexGen's, but its own, watching, waiting. Mia's blood burned, her thief's heart sure, the pendant a blade, not key, cutting the Lattice, cutting her, a spark no one's but hers. The tunnel 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.