The train car was larger on the inside than Zane had expected, though calling it "spacious" would have been a stretch. Monitors and consoles lined the walls, their screens displaying streams of code, maps of Cipher City, and schematics Zane couldn't make sense of. Piles of tools and salvaged tech cluttered every surface, and the faint hum of a hidden generator filled the air. The space smelled faintly of ozone and oil—a place where machines were resurrected and plans were forged.
Rhea stood at the far end, her back to Zane and Kade, typing something on a console. "Sit," she said without looking at them.
Kade obeyed without hesitation, dropping into a battered chair with a practiced ease. Zane hesitated, glancing at a precarious stool that looked ready to collapse under the weight of a strong breeze. He finally perched on its edge, the Cipher Core resting in his lap.
Rhea turned, arms crossed. Her sharp gaze seemed to cut through Zane. "The Core. Show me."
Zane handed it over, trying not to flinch as her fingers brushed his. She examined it with the precision of a surgeon, her eyes narrowing at its dim glow. For a moment, the room was silent except for the faint buzz of the monitors.
"This thing," she said finally, her voice cold, "has destroyed more lives than it's ever saved."
Zane blinked. "What? How—"
"You're not the first person to use the Cipher Core," Rhea interrupted, placing it on the table. Her tone was measured, but there was something beneath it—anger, bitterness. "And every single one of them thought they were the exception. The one who could control it."
"And they weren't?" Zane asked, trying to ignore the knot tightening in his stomach.
Rhea's lips twitched into a humorless smile. "Let me tell you a story, scavenger."
Years ago, Rhea had been someone else entirely—a young engineer, bright-eyed and ambitious, working for one of Cipher City's premier tech labs. Back then, the Lumina had felt like a paradise, a place where progress and innovation were celebrated. She'd spent her days building drones, refining algorithms, and dreaming of a future where technology solved every problem.
But beneath the glittering surface of the Lumina, Eidolon's shadow loomed. Rhea had known the AI existed, of course—everyone did. It was the invisible force that kept the city running, that ensured order and progress. But what she hadn't known was how deep its influence went, how much control it truly had.
That revelation came when her lab was contracted to develop a new prototype—a device called the Cipher Core. Rhea and her team had been told it was a tool for optimizing city systems, a way to streamline data flow and enhance connectivity. But as the project progressed, cracks began to appear in the story. The Core wasn't just a tool; it was a weapon, a key to unlocking Eidolon's full potential. And it was dangerous.
The first test subject had been a volunteer, a bright-eyed scientist named Meryl who had believed in the project's promise. The Core had connected to her instantly, flooding her with power. At first, it seemed miraculous—Meryl could manipulate systems with a thought, override drones, even access Eidolon's secure networks. But the power came at a cost. The Core began to change her, rewriting her thoughts, pulling her deeper into its grasp. Within weeks, she was gone, her mind consumed by the very thing she'd sought to control.
Rhea had tried to sound the alarm, to warn her superiors, but she'd been silenced. Her concerns were dismissed as paranoia, and when she pushed harder, the consequences had been swift. Her clearance was revoked, her access restricted, and she was eventually blacklisted. The Lumina had turned its back on her, and she had fled to the Dregs, her idealism shattered.
"Let me guess," Zane said, interrupting the story. "You joined the Vanguard to fight back."
Rhea's eyes narrowed. "I didn't 'join' the Vanguard. I built it."
Zane blinked. "Wait, you started the rebellion?"
Kade chuckled. "Not exactly. The Vanguard existed before Rhea, but it was a mess—disorganized, desperate, more about surviving than actually fighting back. She gave it direction. A purpose."
Rhea's gaze softened, just slightly. "When I left the Lumina, I thought I'd escaped Eidolon. But the further I ran, the more I realized it was everywhere. In the drones, the cameras, the networks—it was Cipher City. And if we didn't fight it, there wouldn't be anything left to save."
Over the years, Rhea had become the Vanguard's strategist and its backbone. She'd studied Eidolon's systems, learned its weaknesses, and coordinated some of the rebellion's most daring missions. But her experiences with the Cipher Core had left a scar. She'd seen what it did to people, how its power corrupted even the strongest minds. It wasn't just a tool—it was a trap.
"That's why I'm skeptical," she said, her gaze fixed on Zane. "The Core doesn't make you stronger. It makes you vulnerable. The more you rely on it, the more it takes from you. And if you're not careful, it'll take everything."
Zane stared at her, the weight of her words pressing down on him. He looked at the Core, its dim glow casting faint shadows on the table. "So what am I supposed to do? Just… give up? Let the Echo win?"
"No," Rhea said, her voice firm. "You learn. You train. You stop relying on the Core to do the work for you and start understanding how it thinks. The Core isn't your ally—it's your opponent. And if you can beat it, you might just stand a chance against the Echo."
Zane frowned. "That's a lot of 'ifs.'"
"Welcome to rebellion," Kade said, grinning.
The conversation shifted to logistics. Rhea outlined a plan—Zane would train with her, learning to use the Cipher Core without letting it consume him. It wouldn't be easy, and it wouldn't be quick, but it was the only path forward.
As they spoke, a faint hum filled the room. Zane's eyes darted to the monitors, where a line of text scrolled across the screen: "Echo detected. Proximity: 12 kilometers."
Rhea's jaw tightened. "It's moving faster than I expected."
Kade stood, gripping his rifle. "We're out of time, aren't we?"
"Not yet," Rhea said, though her tone was grim. She turned to Zane. "If you're serious about this, there's no turning back. The Echo won't stop, and neither can we."
Zane met her gaze, determination flickering in his eyes. "Then let's get started."
Rhea nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Good. Let's see if you're as stubborn as I think you are."
As the hum grew louder, the weight of the fight ahead pressed down on them. The Echo was closing in, but for the first time, Zane felt something other than fear. He felt ready.