The Hollow Apostate was gone. Discarded. Just another corpse beneath Berou's feet.
But its scream still echoed.
Not through the halls — through the network. Its psionic frequency had broadcast across sectors. Every neural-linked soldier and commander had heard it. Not just pain.
Recognition.
Berou was back.
And something in the system began to crack.
The central corridors, once clean and sharp, now flickered with sporadic power outages. Doors opened and closed without command. Security systems stuttered. AI routines looped their audio.
The Abyss had always functioned like a machine.
Now, it felt like one that knew it was dying.
Somewhere in Sub-Level 5, a comms officer named Ralik tore the insignia from his uniform and threw it in a fire-vent. He'd grown up hearing the story of Berou — the "First Betrayal." The broken angel. The weapon that refused.
He'd always believed the official story.
Until now.
The system was failing.
And it wasn't Berou who broke it.
It was the rot beneath.
He looked at the six others in the maintenance chamber. All unarmed. All silent.
Until one of them spoke:
"…I heard he spared Lira."
Another replied: "He walked away from the director. Walked."
A third: "Then why are we still serving these monsters?"
They didn't need to vote.
The rebellion didn't start with a speech.
It started when someone pulled the plug on the surveillance grid.
Elsewhere — in Hall Sigma, command units argued over the comms.
"He's moving toward Central Archive. Stop him there."
"We have no visual. Sector Nine's gone dark."
"We've got two squads defected. It's spreading—"
"Shut them down. Purge protocol."
"That's half the base."
"Then purge half the base."
Berou walked through chaos.
Flames licked the edges of once-pristine control rooms. Screams echoed from chambers where agents turned on commanders. Some fought. Some fled. Others just opened doors and let it happen.
The Abyss had ruled with fear.
But fear changed sides.
He passed three guards standing over a collapsed lieutenant.
They saw him.
Raised weapons.
Paused.
One of them lowered their rifle.
Then dropped it.
Berou said nothing.
He just walked past.
They didn't follow.
But they didn't stop him, either.
In the western barracks, Lira woke up. Her ribs ached. Her blade was missing. But her mind burned.
She had seen the spark.
She had seen mercy.
The Abyss didn't teach mercy.
It punished it.
She stood, broken but breathing.
And whispered, "If he survives this… maybe I can too."
She limped toward the elevator, bleeding.
But smiling.
Deep in the Archives, Director Vane watched it all from a cracked screen. Riot flames danced in the reflection on his glasses. His mechanical hand twitched with frustration.
He turned to the last surviving council member.
"I told you," Vane said, "he would break the cage."
The other didn't reply.
They were too busy packing data drives into a black case.
Vane walked to the far wall, pressing his hand against a hidden panel.
The wall split open.
Revealing Vault X.
Inside — a sealed casket.
Something worse than the Hollow.
Something ancient. Forgotten.
And still breathing.
"Berou," Vane muttered, smiling darkly, "you've always inspired such beautiful destruction."