Darkness swallowed Costa del Sol street by street, each blackout spreading with the precision of a surgical cut. Through Kasper's failing enhancement ports, the city's neural network screamed in frequencies that made his teeth vibrate. Blood trickled down his neck as his targeting system mapped neural signatures winking out across the grid – a thousand lights dying in perfect synchronization, each one pulsing at 47.3 MHz.
Sarah's frequency. Even now, after everything, it still felt like her fingers tracing his spine.
"*They're in the system!*" Circuit's scream tore through his enhanced hearing, the raw desperation in her voice making his dying ports ache. He caught her reflection in the safehouse's reinforced windows – hands trembling as withdrawal fought with determination, neural patches flickering like dying stars against her neck.
Ghost moved with the fluid grace of someone who'd survived a hundred missions, his ancient combat protocols humming at frequencies that made the art deco fixtures resonate. "North side's gone dark." His scarred fingers brushed the medallion he never talked about, a tell Kasper had learned meant the old soldier was seeing ghosts. "Grid's failing sector by sector. Like someone's conducting an orchestra of—"
Static devoured his words, the sound making nearby quantum shielding ripple with patterns that shouldn't exist. Through the windows, twenty stories up, prayer processions wove between elevated walkways. Their chants mixed with the distant sound of breaking glass as Scope's rifle cracked twice.
"Three more teams converging." The sniper's enhanced hearing picked up threats through marble and steel while his prayer beads clicked against carbon fiber – a ritual that had saved their lives more times than Kasper could count. "Enhancement signatures all wrong. Running hot but controlled." A pause heavy with recognition. "Like White Forest, but worse."
Circuit's fingers never stopped moving across brass-fitted interfaces despite the tremors wracking her body. The broken stim case at her feet leaked medical-grade crystals across art deco tiles, each one catching emergency lighting like frozen tears. "The power draw..." Her voice caught as data streams reflected off chrome-dilated eyes. "It's not random. They're using the grid as a weapon, converting civilian ports into—"
The words died in her throat as recognition hit. Kasper saw it in the sudden stillness of her hands, in the way her next breath shook. The same look she'd worn when they'd found her sister's enhanced corpse.
"Just like Sarah's research."
The name hit Kasper's dying systems like an ice pick to the spine. Blood painted his vision red as his adaptation package screamed warnings in frequencies that made nearby windows crack. Each breath tasted of copper and burned chrome as his targeting system outlined neural signatures blooming where there shouldn't be any. Evolution patterns that felt like Sarah's code twisted into something new. Something hungry.
"Circuit." Speaking felt like swallowing razors. "The files—"
"Uploading." She slapped a fresh neural patch against her neck, the adhesive making a wet sound as it bonded. Her hands steadied slightly, professional focus winning against withdrawal. "But something's wrong with the bandwidth. Like something's eating the—"
She froze. In the moment before everything went wrong, Kasper caught the reflection of her eyes in the nearest screen – pupils blown wide with a fear he hadn't seen since Mirage City.
The safehouse's quantum shielding died with a sound like screaming metal. Emergency lighting cast Ghost's face in shadows that made him look ancient as enhancement signatures converged on their position. Each one burned with Sarah's evolved frequency, making Kasper's experimental hardware howl recognition.
Ghost's medallion caught crimson light as he moved. "Fall back to—"
The world shattered.
Quantum-encrypted air turned to fire as breaching charges detonated in perfect harmony. The blast frequency matched Sarah's research exactly – the same pitch she'd used to liquefy enhancement cores during their final confrontation. Kasper's dying targeting system mapped the attack through blood-tinted vision. Each entry point calculated to micrometers. Each team moving like parts of a single organism.
The Director's signature frequency pulsed through it all like a conductor's baton, turning their defensive positions into a killing ground.
"Contact!" Scope's enhanced hearing filtered threats through smoke and debris while his rifle spoke judgment. But the attackers evolved after each death, their enhancement cores learning and changing like digital cancer. His prayer beads clicked faster. "Military hardware. Advanced stuff, like—"
"White Forest." Ghost's ancient protocols hummed with recognition as steam vented through his outdated ports. Something in his voice made Kasper's remaining systems spike with warning – the same tone from their first mission together, right before everything had gone wrong. "Circuit, burn it. Everything. Standard scorched earth."
Circuit's laugh cracked like breaking glass as her fingers painted emergency protocols through dying light. Each command carried the precise edge of someone who'd seen too many systems fail. "Already on it. But the files..." Fresh tremors shook her hands as she fought both withdrawal and urgency. "The proof about the children. What they're really doing with Project Lazarus. Can't let them take it back."
Kasper's adaptation package screamed final warnings as blood ran from his ports in steady streams. The taste of burnt nanobots filled his mouth as tactical overlay mapped their options. Each path ended in frequencies that sang of necessary violence.
*Alert: Climate compatibility at 12%
Secondary: Complete system failure imminent
Tertiary: Estimated survival window – 8 minutes
Warning: Unauthorized evolution detected in neural architecture*
Reality fractured as the first wave hit. Enhanced operators moved like liquid shadow through art deco corridors, their ports burning with Sarah's evolved frequency. Ghost's ancient hardware sang war hymns as he engaged three simultaneously, his outdated tech too primitive for their modern countermeasures to recognize.
Circuit's virus packages tore through hostile networks, but the attackers adapted faster than should be possible. Each death made the survivors stronger. Her hands trembled as she worked, but her voice carried steel beneath the shaking. "The data... what they did to those kids... the real purpose of Project—"
Scope's rifle spoke one final time before quantum pulse took his position. The sound of his body hitting marble carried undertones of scattering prayer beads. Ghost's shout held the raw edge of someone losing family: "Man down!"
Time slowed as Kasper's dying enhancements mapped the next wave. Each soldier ran impossible hardware, their neural patterns twisted into forms that made Church sensors shriek heresy. Sarah's code pulsed through their cores, evolved beyond recognition. The same frequency she'd tried to explain that night in her laboratory, right before her enhancement ports had turned from tools into weapons.
A message burned through failing systems: "Team compromised. The Director sends regards. No survivors. -V"