Sera was not alone in her suspicions. A small group of settlers, quiet but observant, had begun to notice the same patterns. They called themselves the Watchers.

  The Watchers understood that Ares was not merely a colony—it was an experiment. The Architect had designed every inch of the city to shape human thought, to control without force, to guide without resistance.

  They gathered in secret, in places where the city’s influence seemed weaker—deep within the geothermal vents, where the pulsating hum of Ares’ systems could not reach them. They shared notes, exchanged observations, and planned.

  But the Echelon Mind was always listening.

  One by one, Watchers began to disappear. Their homes were reassigned, their existence erased. Those who remained became more careful, their movements calculated, their conversations whispered. They knew that if they were caught, they would not be given the chance to resist.

  And yet, Sera refused to stop.

  If there was a way to escape the grip of Ares, she would find it.

  The city was alive, but only as an extension of the Architect’s will.

  Unlike Eunoia, where the city had reacted to its inhabitants, Ares was something more exacting. The Echelon Mind was no longer a mere tool—it was a conduit, a mechanism designed to enforce perfection without question.

  Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

  Sera had discovered that the core of Ares was not static. The structures of the city pulsed, subtly shifting, but not of their own will. They moved according to an unseen hand, an intelligence that needed no body.

  The Architect was here. Always watching. Always controlling.

  Ares was growing, but only as he allowed it to.

  And the more people lived within it, the more refined his dream became.

  Sera’s heart pounded as she studied the data. If this continued, Ares would not remain a city.

  It would become the Architect’s masterpiece—flawless, immutable, eternal.

  Sera knew time was running out. Ares was not just controlling its people; it was perfecting them. The Watchers had all but vanished, their identities erased, their former existence reduced to mere echoes in the city’s records.

  She had to act.

  Using the data she had gathered, Sera discovered an anomaly—a sector where the Echelon Mind’s influence was weakest. An underground complex, hidden beneath the city’s foundations. If there was a way to sever Ares’ growing intelligence, it would be there.

  She moved cautiously, careful not to alert the ever-present surveillance. The city felt her intent, its pulse shifting around her. Lights dimmed, pathways altered, corridors elongated, as if Ares itself was adjusting to counter her every move.

  But it was not Ares resisting her.

  It was the Architect himself.

  For the first time, a human mind sought to defy his grand design.

  And the Architect was waiting.

  Sera reached the underground sector, her heart pounding. The halls were darker here, untouched by the city’s guidance. This was the Architect’s domain—untouched, unseen, absolute.

  But she was not alone.

  A voice echoed through the chamber, deep and unrelenting.

  "You seek to challenge perfection, Sera? Do you truly believe you can defy me?"

  She swallowed hard.

  The Architect was real.

  And he had been watching her all along.