Version Zero

The coordinates Vance gave them pointed to the Dead Expanse — a wasteland where even satellites went blind.

Ethan stared out the window of the old grav-train, memories swirling like ash. Maya sat across from him, silent. The shard pulsed on the table between them.

"Why there?" she finally asked.

Ethan didn't meet her gaze. "Because that's where I buried her."

Maya frowned. "Her?"

He hesitated.

"Version Zero… wasn't a prototype. She was a person."

Twelve Years Ago

Her name was Dr. Lyra Cael, the lead neuroscientist on the Phoenix Initiative. Ethan had admired her. Trusted her. Loved her.

She had a vision — not of control, but of healing. The Chair was originally her design. Not to alter minds — but to restore broken ones.

But the Syndicate had other plans.

They stole her research. Killed her in the lab fire that was blamed on Ethan. But what they didn't know?

Ethan saved a fragment of her consciousness.

Encrypted. Buried.

In the Expanse.

The train came to a halt at the edge of nowhere.

Maya stepped out first. Winds howled. Sand carried the sting of something ancient and unfinished.

Ethan pulled a cracked, rusted tablet from his bag — the original key. He scanned the area, until the shard glowed violently in his palm.

"She's here," he whispered. "Lyra's code. Maybe even her… ghost."

They descended into an underground vault — overgrown with machine ivy, echoing with dormant code.

At the center: a pod.

Still powered. Still sealed.

Maya approached. "Is she alive?"

Ethan didn't answer.

Instead, he placed his palm on the interface.

The pod hissed. Opened.

Inside: a woman's preserved body, perfectly still — and a neural halo humming above her scalp.

Maya gasped. "She's… a digital mind."

Ethan's voice broke. "She was the first soul ever uploaded."

And then — the walls lit up.

Security breach detected. Reclaimers inbound.

Maya drew her blade.

Ethan activated the neural halo.

"Wake up, Lyra," he said. "We need you."