Chapter 4 “Ashur”

The backstreets of NexaCore were a patchwork of neon flickers and silence. Glass towers gave way to forgotten alleys. Steam hissed from vents. Cameras blinked in corners. Ayla followed Silas, her footsteps slower now, more cautious. This part of Valthera didn't pretend to be clean. It

didn't pretend at all.

Silas stopped in front of a rusted metal door barely marked with faded stencils.

"Don't say anything unless I give you the look," he said.

Ayla raised an eyebrow. "What look?"

He didn't answer. He knocked—three short, two slow.

A slit opened. A man peered out, cigarette between lips, one eye mechanical and glowing faint red.

"I thought you were dead," the voice said flatly.

"I'm not."

"Pity."

The door groaned open.

Inside, the room buzzed with soft hums—servers, fans, screens. Dismantled tech parts lay scattered like debris after a storm. Metal shelves bowed under weight. A robotic arm twitched in the corner. It smelled of ozone and solder.

Ashur sat hunched over a bench, goggles pulled to his forehead, a thin scar tracing his jawline. His hoodie was singed, his gloves embedded with tactile sensors.

"Ashur," Silas greeted.

"Depends on why you're here."

Silas held up the flash drive. "Got something dirty. Need it cracked."

Ashur gestured lazily, then noticed Ayla and tensed.

"She yours?"

"She's helping."

Ayla stepped forward. "I'm here for answers. Don't worry—I won't touch your toys."

Ashur's mechanical eye scanned her again. "She talks. That's a problem."

Silas cut in. "Focus, Ash."

With a grunt, Ashur plugged the drive into an isolated terminal. The screens flickered, strings of code scrolling rapidly.

"Encrypted to hell," Ashur muttered. "Triple-layered, kinetic algorithms, self-corrupt triggers. Someone didn't want this opened."

"But can you?" Silas asked.

Ashur smirked. "You think I'd let you in if I couldn't?"

He cracked his knuckles and got to work. Minutes passed. Ayla wandered to a monitor showing a live satellite feed of Valthera's docks.

"Why do you keep tabs on the city?" she asked.

"Why not?" Ashur said without looking. "Information's the only weapon that doesn't need reloading."

The largest screen blinked, static buzzing, then cleared. An interface loaded. Ashur narrowed his eyes.

"Bingo."

Folders appeared—some labeled in code, others in red:

CNS_Kallos_Proj_7

Valthera Internal Ledger

Wellington_Transmissions

Ashur whistled. "You're playing with the devil, Silas."

Silas leaned forward. "Open that last one."

A video file loaded—grainy footage. A dark boardroom. Voices muffled. Then:

A man stepped into view. Ayla's breath caught.

Her father.

Alive. Speaking.

"…the project is unstable. I told you—this is beyond anything we've dealt with. If Wellington finds out—"

The audio cut. The screen glitched.

Ashur slapped the desk. "Corrupted. They burned it mid-transfer."

Ayla's hands trembled. "That's real? That's not some deepfake?"

Ashur shook his head. "This is raw data. Internal surveillance from inside the Kallos Consortium. Deepfake doesn't come close."

Silas turned to Ayla. "Still think this is just about me?"

She didn't answer. Her eyes were locked on the screen.

Ashur dug deeper. More files emerged—transaction logs, offshore payments, lists of facility codes across Valthera. One file stood out:

"ARK-47: SUBJECT 3 TEST RESULTS"

"Project ARK?" Ayla whispered.

Ashur's face darkened. "You don't want to touch that. That's deep-core biotech. Human trial level. Illegal even by their standards."

Silas rubbed his jaw. "We need someone who can verify what we're seeing. A journalist. Or a whistleblower."

Ashur scoffed. "You think you'll get this out before they come for you?"

The screens suddenly blinked. One turned red.

Trace detected. Location compromised.

Ashur cursed. "They pinged the signal. You've got three minutes before someone shows up, and I don't do gunfights anymore."

Silas grabbed the drive. "Back exit?"

Ashur pointed. "Through the server tunnel. Out to the tram bridge. If you die, don't haunt me."

Ayla looked at him. "Thank you."

Ashur gave her a dry smile. "Just don't bring him back again."

They slipped out, the hum of the machines fading behind them.

Outside, the city had changed. The streets felt tighter, like they were being watched.

And somewhere, someone knew they'd seen too much.