The room was plunged into darkness, the screens flickering out one by one. The hum of the high-tech equipment was suddenly silenced. Seojin's breath was shallow, the weight of her father's words still ringing in her ears.
"You're too late."
The coldness of that statement haunted her.
Was she?
Her hand was still on the gun, but the air around her felt suffocating. Minji's voice broke through the silence, urgent. "Seojin, don't lose focus now. We still have a chance."
Seojin shook her head, trying to push the weight of despair away. There had to be something. She wasn't going to let her father win—not like this.
Kade was already moving, pulling out a small flashlight, casting light across the dark room. "We need to disable their power grid," he said, his voice steady. "Get this place back online."
Seojin turned to him. "But if we reactivate the system, won't they know we're still here?"
Minji clenched her fists. "We're running out of options. We need to act fast."
Seojin's heart raced. She needed to make a choice.
Her eyes landed on the central control terminal across the room. If she could get it back online, she might be able to disrupt the Council's hold on the system. But that would be risky—if her father still had control over the command center, they would be walking right into his trap.
"Minji, Kade," Seojin said, her voice firm. "I'm going to the terminal. I need you to cover me."
They both nodded in unison, their eyes sharp with determination. Minji and Kade moved to opposite sides of the room, weapons raised, prepared to fight off any surprises.
Seojin steeled herself. This was a dangerous game, but it was the only game they had left.
With each step toward the terminal, her mind raced. Her father was still alive. The technology he had developed—the mind control program—it was already embedded into the global network. It was already changing the world.
But if she could disconnect the command center from the system, they could shut down everything. They could destroy it all.
But that required access to the master control panel, and the only way to do that was to reactivate the system.
As she reached the terminal, Seojin's heart pounded. She set her hands on the console, glancing back at Minji and Kade. Their eyes met, and in that moment, she knew—this was it.
She took a deep breath and hit the power switch.
The lights flickered back to life, and the screens blinked on. The command center hummed with activity, and Seojin could feel the weight of every connected mind in the system.
Suddenly, a distorted voice crackled through the speakers.
"You shouldn't have done that, Seojin."
Her father's voice, calm, cold, echoed through the room.
Seojin gritted her teeth. "I'm ending this. One way or another."
Her father's voice softened. "You really think you can stop it? You're just a pawn in a game that's already been won. You should have joined us."
Seojin's hand tightened on the console. "No. I'm going to destroy everything you've worked for."
She started typing furiously, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she bypassed security protocols and accessed the system.
The screens in front of her lit up with lines of code—encrypted data, thousands of systems connecting through a single thread. It was everywhere.
If she could destroy the network's core, she could bring it all down. But to do that, she had to access the central database.
The Countdown
"Seojin!" Kade shouted, his voice urgent. "They're closing in on us! We need to move!"
Minji's gunfire echoed in the background, keeping their enemies at bay, but Seojin's focus never wavered. She had to finish this.
Her fingers flew over the keyboard, trying to locate the core command. But the deeper she went, the more the system fought back. It was as if it had a mind of its own.
A cold realization struck her—her father had anticipated this.
The command center was rigged, designed to lock down any attempt to breach the central system. She was running out of time.
Seojin's eyes scanned the code, her heart racing. The countdown was on. She had one last chance—she could overwrite the system, but it would require a complete reset of the global compliance program.
If she did it wrong, she could trigger a system-wide failure, and the Council's mind control network would spread faster than they could contain it.
But if she didn't try—the world would fall.
Her hand hovered over the reset button. She had seconds.
"This is for everyone," she whispered to herself.
Seojin slammed her finger down on the key.
The screens went black. The air was still.
End of Chapter 103