Chapter 10: Trigger Protocol
The sound of sirens faded into the wind as Sierra and Knox raced through the crumbling train yard, ducking behind rusted cars and broken scaffolding. Her pulse thundered in her ears. Each breath burned her throat.
But the worst part wasn't the fear.
It was the voice.
You are active.
It whispered from deep within her skull like a memory she never made.
Protocol recognition: 98% complete.
Sierra gritted her teeth and clutched the neural dampener tighter in her hand. The device buzzed softly against her skin, like it was fighting off something crawling up her spine.
"Knox!" she shouted, dodging a rail.
He turned just enough to catch her eyes. "You okay?"
"No!" she snapped. "There's a voice in my head!"
His jaw clenched. "Then we're almost out of time."
They slid into a drainage tunnel beneath the tracks. The air reeked of rust and old water. Their boots splashed through shallow runoff as they ran deeper into the dark.
Behind them, metallic footfalls echoed. Sharp. Inhuman.
Sierra didn't dare look back.
Knox pulled her into a maintenance alcove and slapped a code into a locked panel. A hiss. A panel slid open.
Inside—an elevator. Cramped. Old. Probably unsafe.
Sierra didn't hesitate.
They dropped into it just as a burst of energy lit the tunnel behind them. A Phantom had arrived—tall, pale, face obscured by a blank visor glowing with data. It didn't speak. It didn't need to.
It raised its weapon.
The elevator doors slammed shut.
A pulse struck metal.
Sierra screamed.
Sparks flew.
The elevator shuddered violently—but held.
They descended into silence.
Sierra collapsed against the wall, her chest heaving. Knox leaned against the opposite side, sweat streaming down his temple.
"What now?" she whispered.
Knox didn't answer right away. The elevator groaned as it slid to a halt. The doors opened to reveal a dimly lit chamber lined with old servers and blackout-curtained screens. A safe zone—but just barely.
"This is one of our last black sites," he said. "Dead to the grid. We've got a few minutes."
Sierra looked around. Everything felt like it was watching her—even when she was alone.
And then—it spoke again.
You are the vessel. Trigger awaiting activation.
She dropped the dampener.
"No," she whispered. "No no no—shut up."
Knox turned, alarmed. "What's wrong?"
"I'm hearing things again. The Protocol—it's not just watching me. It's talking to me."
He stepped toward her carefully. "What's it saying?"
Sierra looked up, eyes wide and wild.
"It's waiting to be activated."
Knox went still. He stared at her for a long moment.
"That means," he said slowly, "someone's still holding the trigger."
Sierra froze.
"And if they pull it?" she asked.
Knox's voice turned to ice.
"Then we don't just lose you. We lose the entire free network."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
For the first time, Sierra realized what she might be.
Not just a hacker. Not just a girl with stolen memories.
But a loaded gun.
And somewhere out there…
Someone was holding the trigger.