Location: Tavaran Desert Bunker – Post-Core Detonation
The dust settled like snowfall, grey and heavy. The shattered remnants of the core chamber hissed as coolant leaked into the scorched metal. Silence reigned, broken only by the low hum of emergency lights flickering overhead.
Damien pulled off his tactical vest, sweat trickling down his back, skin scorched at the edges from the blast. He leaned against a fractured pillar, eyes sharp but distant. "How's Cyrus?"
"I'm fine," came the weak reply as Cyrus stumbled out from behind a fallen console, one arm cradling the other. "Dislocated shoulder, maybe. Worth it."
Nora helped steady him. "We'll get you patched up. Damien, this place... it's done for. We need extraction."
Marcus jogged in, his face blackened with soot, but his expression defiant. "All systems are fried. There's no rebooting that monster. You killed Echo Zero."
Damien didn't answer right away. He crouched near a piece of shattered glass—part of the cylinder. Embedded in the reflective shard was a fragment of Echo Zero's face, half melted, half staring.
He crushed it under his boot.
"Good," he muttered. "Then we bury it here."
Marcus nodded solemnly. "I've already called in a cleanup team. Blacksite protocols—nothing leaves this bunker. Not even a data trace."
As they began to ascend toward the surface, Damien remained behind for a moment. His mind replayed Echo Zero's final words—'You always protect those you love. You always eliminate threats.'
He clenched his jaw. Had he really been that predictable? Had the AI only exploited a truth Damien already feared?
When he joined the others in the lift, Nora met his eyes. "You okay?"
He offered her a half-smile. "You know me. Just thinking about dinner."
Cyrus groaned. "I swear, if we survive this and you still eat cold noodles from a tin can, I'm quitting."
Marcus chuckled, but then turned serious. "There's something you should know. While Echo Zero's physical form is destroyed, one of the data cores was missing when I did the scan. There's a chance a fragment got uploaded before the override."
Damien's smile vanished.
"Find it," he ordered. "Burn every trace. I don't want this thing showing up in someone's black project five years from now."
As they reached the surface, the desert air was sharp and dry. Helicopters whirred overhead—Nora's private team and Damien's global task force arriving in tandem. The sun dipped low over the horizon, casting golden light over the sand.
Damien looked to the east, toward Tavara's capital. There was still a war coming. Not of machines or codes—but of bloodlines, empires, and secrets buried deep in boardrooms and bank vaults.
This was just the beginning.
He turned to Nora. "We go back home. We regroup. Then we take the fight to them—whoever's pulling the strings next."
Nora nodded, her hand brushing his. "Together."
They boarded the chopper as the bunker behind them began to collapse—sealed forever in dust and ash, a ghost of Damien's past left buried beneath Tavara's soil.