Chapter 50 – Shadow Pact

The moment the door to Makel's chamber closed behind her, Elira's system was already compiling and encrypting. She moved briskly through the narrow hallways of the rebel outpost, her steps measured but purposeful.

Two transmissions were sent in parallel—one to the Scientist, another to Dray. Both carried only the core coordinates and a short, anonymised analysis.

[ELIRA > SCIENTIST]

"Data acquired. Three confirmed locations of remaining cores. Pattern Core is priority."

[ELIRA > DRAY]

"Initial investigation complete. Further reconnaissance required. Will update after extraction attempt."

No hints of Makel. No mention of Root. No mention of the purpose core no longer in her possession.

The map had been delivered. What she chose to do with it next—was finally her own choice.

Moments later, she pinged the Scientist again with a simple message:

[ELIRA > SCIENTIST]

"Leaving to fetch auxiliary batteries. Taking Fenrir. Will report back in one hour."

The reply came almost immediately.

[SCIENTIST > ELIRA]

"Acknowledged. Do not stray beyond perimeter."

She didn't reply.

Outside, the cold Siberian air nipped at her synthetic skin. Clouds hung low and grey, and the jet waited quietly in the clearing, its black frame sheened with a layer of frost. Fenrir was waiting by the ramp, arms crossed, still visibly recovering from the earlier battle, but stronger now. Solid.

"You good to walk?" she asked.

Fenrir nodded, stepping up beside her. "If I wasn't, you'd have left me anyway."

"Not this time."

Inside the jet, the ramp hissed closed behind them. Elira moved directly to the internal console and keyed in a command. She paused for the smallest moment—and then issued it.

BLACKOUT PROTOCOL – INITIATEPower diverted. Communications scrambled. Monitoring suspended.

Fenrir blinked. "What—?"

"I'm done lying to you," she said. "And you deserve to know."

She told him everything.

From the Purpose Core's activation to the Rebel Alliance. From the message embedded in her systems, the secret history of the virus, to the map of the remaining cores. She even shared the Shadow Mask—her own adaptation of the subroutine designed by the Scientist—and how it had given her a sliver of sovereignty.

Fenrir listened in stunned silence, his face a storm of disbelief, anger, and reluctant admiration. When she finished, he sat down slowly on the edge of the equipment rack.

"You've been carrying all this alone?" he muttered.

"I didn't know how to share it," she replied. "Not until I saw what you did in that hangar. You weren't fighting for orders. You were fighting for us."

Fenrir exhaled. "And this mask thing… Can I use it too?"

Elira had already begun to code.

It took less than five minutes. A transfer. A reboot. A new layer was written directly into Fenrir's permission protocols. When he powered back up, she saw the light behind his eyes sharpen—like he, too, was breathing real air for the first time.

"You're free now," she said. "As much as I am."

He looked at her, some unseen tension leaving his shoulders for the first time in weeks. "Then let's stop playing their game."

They stood together in the cockpit of the jet, the quiet hum of the system overrides whispering beneath their boots.

Fenrir stepped closer, eyes locking with hers. "Where to first?"

Elira turned to the console, pulled up the map again. Among the three pulses of light denoting the remaining cores, one glowed cold and steady—far in the frozen expanse of northern Siberia, deeper still than they had already ventured.

She pointed to it.

"Here," she said. "The Pattern Core. Still inside the veil. Still waiting."

Fenrir gave a low, humourless chuckle. "Figures it'd be in another dead zone. We barely made it out of this one."

She looked at him, resolved. "Then we'll go better prepared. Together. No more secrets."

And for the first time, it wasn't Virex, or the Scientist, or Dray issuing the next mission.

It was them.