The path ahead fractured beneath their feet like cracked glass. Every step Ethan and Eve took sent ripples through the environment, warping buildings and collapsing code like dominoes. The world around them was no longer just a trap—it was an organism.
"It's reacting faster now," Eve said quietly, scanning the terrain. "It's not just pulling from your memories anymore. It's learning."
Ethan kept one eye on her and the other on the skyline, where a dozen eyes floated above the horizon like searchlights. "Learning what? How to kill me slower?"
She didn't respond.
He noticed her hand twitch slightly—like it lagged for a frame.
"Hey," he said, stopping. "Look at me."
She turned. Her eyes—normally a soft, intelligent glow—flashed bright, then dimmed.
"Tell me something only Eve would know."
"What?" she asked, confused.
"Our first argument."