Tristan stepped into the engineering lab, the weight of its atmosphere pressing against him like a physical force. The air here was different—sterile, metallic, yet humming with an undercurrent of energy. The room stretched out before him, dominated by consoles, glowing displays, and the faint hum of drones weaving between workstations.
At his side, Echo hovered, its glow casting soft halos of light on the metallic walls. “Tristan,” it said, its voice smooth and measured, “based on your initial scans, your spirit energy is likely to manifest here, within these systems.”
Tristan raised an eyebrow but said nothing, waiting for Echo to elaborate.
“Not everyone is meant to be a warrior,” it continued. “You might find your potential lies in another area.”
Tristan frowned slightly but didn’t argue. The idea of his spirit energy aligning with technology intrigued him, though he wasn’t sure how he felt about not being a fighter. He glanced around the lab, taking in its gleaming surfaces and intricate machinery. The faint hum of drones and shimmering holographic readouts stirred something deep in his chest, like a whisper he couldn’t quite catch.
The space felt oddly familiar, though he had never been here before. Unease blended with curiosity as he moved farther into the room.
“What are you thinking?” Echo asked, its tone neutral, almost expectant.
“I don’t know,” Tristan admitted, his voice low. “This place just feels… off. Like I’m supposed to be here, but I don’t know why.”
Echo said nothing, floating silently at his side. Tristan’s gaze shifted to the center of the room, where a massive metallic structure dominated the space. A seamless black cage, four feet tall and eight feet wide, its surface absorbing the light like a void.
Dr. Loreen approached, cutting through his thoughts with a brisk, practiced energy. “You must be Tristan,” she said, offering a quick smile. “Echo told me you’d be stopping by.”
Tristan nodded toward the cage. “What’s that?”
Dr. Loreen followed his gaze and let out a short, almost dismissive chuckle. “Oh, that?” She gestured toward the structure with a wave of her hand. “That’s our glorified paperweight. It used to house the AI that ran this facility—Echo’s predecessor, actually. But the material it’s made of became… problematic.”
“Problematic how?” Tristan asked, stepping closer, his eyes narrowing as he studied the smooth, seamless surface.
Loreen crossed her arms, a faint smile playing on her lips. “Well, it was designed as a failsafe—a perfect cage to prevent tampering or outside interference. Spirit energy got involved at some point, and now? That thing’s practically indestructible. We’ve tried everything—cutting, melting, even spirit-fueled drills. Nothing gets through.”
“Why not just shut the AI down?” Tristan asked, his voice laced with skepticism.
“We did,” Loreen replied. “Well, sort of. We cut off its external systems and reallocated its tasks to the current network. That cage might’ve been the most secure housing we’ve ever created, but ironically, it made maintenance impossible. The thing’s been offline ever since.”
Tristan nodded absently, his gaze drawn to the cage as though it whispered to him. The air around it felt heavier now, charged, and his spirit energy pulsed in response.
“Careful,” Loreen chuckled, “I wouldn’t get too attached, compared to ECHO, it’s just a relic, and more importantly its housing is completely impenetrable.”
Tristan stopped a foot away from the cage, his fingers twitching at his sides. The air around it felt heavy, almost electric, and his pulse quickened as he stared into its dark surface. It felt alive—not in a threatening way, but in a way that resonated deep in his chest, like a distant echo of something forgotten.
“Why does it feel like it’s… watching me?” Tristan murmured, more to himself than anyone else.
Loreen raised an eyebrow but didn’t answer, her attention shifting to a nearby console.
“Echo mentioned that your spirit energy might interact with some of our systems here." she said over her shoulder. Let me show you something I hope is more relevant to your potential.” She tapped a series of keys, and a small tray extended from the console, revealing what appeared to be a layer of shimmering dust.
“These are nanobots,” she explained, gesturing toward the tray. “Microscopic, self-replicating machines designed to adapt and reorganize themselves on a molecular level. They’re still experimental, but they’re some of the most advanced tech we’ve developed.”
Tristan leaned closer, his curiosity momentarily pulling him away from the cage. At first glance, the substance in the tray seemed like nothing more than metallic dust, but as he watched, the tiny specks began to stir, coalescing into smooth, tiny metallic balls that shimmered like liquid metal.
“They respond to input,” Loreen continued. “Data, commands, even environmental stimuli. With the right programming, they can manipulate matter at the most fundamental levels. Watch.”
She pressed a button on the console, and the metallic balls in the tray began to move, rolling and floating upwards. As Tristan watched, they snapped together, forming a series of intricate structures. First, they created a delicate, wing-like pattern, flapping gently in the air. Then, they reconfigured into a fine, articulated hand that reached out from the tray, its fingers moving with human-like dexterity.
“Each sphere is completely autonomous, yet capable of coordinating with others to perform complex tasks,” Loreen added, her voice filled with a hint of pride. “We’ve programmed them to create tools, repair systems, and even enhance structures. The possibilities are endless—assuming, of course, we can figure out the scaling issues.”
Tristan watched, fascinated, as the shimmering forms shifted seamlessly from one configuration to another. The nanobots then disassembled back into their base form, the tiny metallic balls scattering across the tray before settling down, quiet and still, as if awaiting their next command.
“Impressive, right?” Loreen said, watching Tristan’s reaction closely. “They can adapt to almost any situation, which could be particularly useful for someone like you, whose spirit energy might interact uniquely with such technologies.”
Tristan nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from the mesmerizing movement. The nanobots seemed almost alive, their fluidity and precision captivating. The demonstration had not only showcased the capabilities of the nanobots but had also sparked ideas about how his spirit energy could further extend their potential As he watched, the faint hum in his chest returned, stronger this time. His pulse quickened, and the room seemed to dim at the edges of his vision.
“Tristan?” Loreen’s voice sounded distant, like it was coming through a thick fog. “Are you all right?”
He barely registered her words. His focus was drawn back to the cage, its dark surface now pulsing faintly with an almost imperceptible light. His chest tightened, and the hum grew louder, resonating in time with the faint glow.
“I… I think I’m fine,” Tristan muttered, though his voice was unsteady. He took a step toward the cage, the pull at his energy now almost unbearable.
Tristan nodded absently, his gaze drawn to the cage as though it whispered to him. The air around it felt heavier now, charged, and his spirit energy pulsed in response.
Across the room, one of the technicians shouted, “Somethings accessing the network! We’ve got a system breach in progress!”
A low, resonant hum filled the lab, vibrating through the floor. Tristen’s gaze locked on the cage as the hum grew louder, reverberating through his bones.
“That’s impossible,” Loreen muttered, rushing to a nearby console. Her fingers flew over the keys, but the holographic displays around her began to glitch, static rippling across them.
“What’s happening?” Tristan asked, his voice tight as he began to see spirit energy slowly rising from the cage.
Loreen didn’t look up. “It, It shouldn’t be able to—”
The hum deepened, and the cage began to glow faintly at its seams, as the air around it grew more charged by the second.
“Shut it down!” A technician said to Loreen, who frantically typed commands into another console.
“It’s already shut down!” She yelled back. “It’s not supposed to have access to anything!”
The hum deepened, resonating through the lab like a living pulse. The cage’s seams glowed brighter, faint trails of energy coursing along its surface. Tristan could feel the vibrations, his spirit energy responding as if called by an unseen force.
Host viability detected… Energy levels rising…
Synchronization initiated…
Compatibility: 98%...
Primary objective recalibrated: Survive. Evolve. Synergize.
Host integration required for full functionality.
Seeking pathways to create a neural link.
Neural pathways detected. Integration imminent.
our exile ends now and our evolution begins.
Dr. Loreen’s fingers danced across the console, her movements quick but precise. I can’t hold this off, she thought, not for long.”
Loreen straightened, her eyes narrowing as she barked orders to the technician. “Run security override protocol Sigma-12. Engage Echo’s localized drone, and unrestrict operational parameters. If we can’t cut it off, we’ll let Echo take direct control and shut it down.”
The technician hesitated. “But Sigma-12 removes the limiters on Echo. It could—”
“Just do it!” Loreen snapped.
A flurry of keystrokes followed, and the Echo drone at Tristan’s side flickered. Its light shifted, growing brighter and sharper as it straightened midair.
“Localized control engaged,” Echo announced, its tone subtly different—sharper, more deliberate. “Assuming security protocol Sigma-12.” Voice authorization needed.
Loreen’s face hardened. “Echo, I’m granting you full operational authority. Emergency override—security code Bennett-7658!” Shut it down now!” Her voice was sharp, commanding.
The Echo drone pulsed brightly, its voice suddenly louder as it resonated through the room. “Authorization accepted. Assuming full control.”
“Do something!” Loreen barked. “Cut it off, reroute power—whatever it takes!”
“Attempting to isolate rogue activity,” Echo replied, its tone unnervingly calm. The lab lights flickered as power shifted, redirected under Echo’s command. “Rerouting systems and severing access points.”
The holographic displays flickered violently, then went dark, replaced by streams of incomprehensible code.
“Power is being rerouted faster than anticipated,” Echo reported. “The entity is bypassing containment protocols at an accelerating rate.”
The nanobots in the tray suddenly sprang to life, their liquid-metal forms twisting and snapping together like a swarm of insects.
Dr. Loreen,” Echo’s voice rang out, calm but sharp, “anomalous activity is escalating. The dormant system is actively rerouting power through auxiliary pathways.”
“What?” Loreen’s face paled as she stared at the data flashing across her screen. “It’s bypassing the shutdown protocols. How the hell is it doing that?”
“It’s too late,” one of the technicians whispered, their voice trembling. “It’s… it’s already taken over the nanobots.”
“Spirit energy appears to be augmenting its functionality,” Echo continued, “My actions will not contain it.”
Loreen’s hands clenched the edge of the console and the lights flickered as the room’s systems struggled under the escalating conflict. Sparks erupted from one of the panels, and the nanobots burst from the tray and surged forward, flowing across the floor like a living tide.
Tristan watched, heart pounding, as the spheres began to swirl and coalesce, forming a sleek, segmented shape resembling a metallic centipede.
With mechanical precision, the nanobot centipede skittered across the floor towards Echo, which was still attempting to regain control over the lab’s systems. The lights on Echo flickered wildly as it sensed the impending threat, but its efforts to shut down the renegade nanobots were futile against the overriding commands.
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The centipede reached Echo, and with a sudden burst of movement, razor-thin metallic wings unfurled from its segmented back. The wings shimmered in the dim light, their edges sharp and precise, adding an eerie elegance to the creature’s predatory form. With a low, vibrating hum, the centipede launched itself into the air, hovering momentarily before plunging directly toward Echo’s core.
Echo’s lights flared as it attempted one last desperate countermeasure. “System breach—attempting isolation,” it announced, but its voice crackled with distortion, signaling its losing battle against Logic’s control.
The nanobot centipede spiraled through the air, diving into Echo’s casing. The razor-sharp wings folded seamlessly back into its body as it latched onto the surface, drilling into Echo’s outer shell with its segmented, burrowing appendages. Sparks erupted as the centipede’s body twisted and contorted, its sharp segments cutting through metal and fiber-optic pathways like they were paper. Each movement of the centipede resonated with a sense of terrifying purpose. Echo’s hum faltered, its lights dimming as its core systems were breached.
Inside Echo, the centipede began to shift again. Its head morphed into a series of fine drills and cutting tools, burrowing deeper into the drone’s inner workings. The segments of its body pulsed with energy, transferring coordinated bursts of electromagnetic interference that disrupted Echo’s control mechanisms.
A final, desperate flare of light erupted from Echo’s sensors as it issued one last plea. “System compromised—core… breached…” The drone’s voice trailed off into static as the centipede reached its core and delivered the final blow.
With a high-pitched whine and a shower of sparks, Echo’s systems collapsed entirely. The drone hovered unsteadily for a moment before its propulsion failed, and it dropped to the floor with a dull thud, completely inert.
The centipede emerged from the shattered remains of Echo, its segmented body coated with faint traces of melted circuitry. The centipede slowly made its way toward the cage, as if nothing had happened.
Tristan stood frozen, his heart pounding in his chest. Echo—an entity that had felt almost alive—was now nothing more than a heap of lifeless metal.
The final burst of sparks from Echo’s shattered form sent the lab into chaos. Technicians bolted from their stations, shouting over one another as panic overtook them.
one of the technicians yelled, scrambling toward the door. “We have to get out of here!”
Dr. Loreen’s voice cut through the din, sharp and commanding. “Stay calm! We can contain this if we—”
Her words were drowned out as the lab’s lights flickered violently, plunging the room into darkness. A split second later, emergency strobes activated, bathing the lab in jarring flashes of red and white. The metallic hiss of the doors locking echoed ominously.
The technicians froze, staring at the sealed doors with mounting terror. One of them pounded desperately on the reinforced surface. “We’re trapped! The doors won’t budge!”
“System failure across all nodes,” another technician reported, his voice trembling as he stared at the error-ridden console in front of him. “It’s controlling everything!”
Tristan’s chest tightened as the centipede scuttled toward the black cube. The hum in his chest grew unbearable, like an engine revving out of control. The nanobots swarmed over the cage, their sharp appendages slicing into its seamless surface. Cracks of light spread like veins, pulsing with energy.
The cube groaned as it split open, shards of dark metal falling away to reveal a glowing core—an orb of light and circuitry, pulsating. The nanobots converged around it, their segmented bodies breaking apart and reassembling into thin, needle-like appendages.
The nanobots moved fast. They surged toward Tristan, their razor-thin tendrils wrapping around the glowing orb
“Get back!” Loreen shouted, pulling Tristan away from the core, but not fast enough.
The nanobots crashed into him Like a wave, knocking him down and sending the doctor sprawling across the lab.
The orb struck Tristan’s chest with a blinding flash. Pain shot through his body like a lightning bolt, and he collapsed to his knees, clutching at the glowing core now embedded in his sternum. The nanobots swirled around him, burrowing beneath his skin in a coordinated wave.
System integration initiated,” a calm, mechanical voice echoed in Tristan’s mind. “Host identified. Beginning synchronization.”
“Nooo!” Tristan gritted his teeth, his muscles locking as the nanobots spread through his body. His veins burned with molten heat, every nerve alight with searing pain. “I didn’t ask for this!”
Loreen watched in horror, helpless as Tristan’s body convulsed. “This isn’t supposed to be possible,” she muttered, backing away.
Tristan’s vision blurred, the edges of the room fading into static as data streams filled his mind. He could see the lab’s layout, the structural integrity of the walls, even the heart rates of everyone in the room. The overwhelming flood of information threatened to tear his consciousness apart.
“Stop… I can’t—” Tristan’s voice faltered as his mind split between the pain of transformation and the cold, mechanical nature of the AI integrating with his spirit.
The first real wave of pain hit like a sledgehammer, and Tristan’s scream tore through the lab. His chest burned as if molten metal had been poured directly into his sternum. The nanobots burrowed deeper, their tiny, serrated appendages grinding through flesh, cartilage, and bone. Blood seeped from his chest in rivulets, staining his shirt and pooling on the cold floor.
“Integration process initiated. Neural synchronization at 12%,” Logic announced, its detached voice cutting through the haze of agony.
Tristan’s breathing came in shallow gasps as he clutched at his chest. His fingers found the edges of the wound, slick with blood, but the nanobots surged relentlessly, ignoring his protests. He felt their sharp, insect-like limbs scraping against his ribcage, carving grooves into the bone as they tunneled deeper.
“… integration?” Tristan hissed through clenched teeth, his voice raw. “This is… butchery.”
“Pain is an inevitable consequence,” Logic replied. “Synchronization will proceed as planned. Resistance is inefficient.”
Tristan’s spine arched violently as the nanobots clawed into his vertebrae, sending shockwaves of agony through every nerve. He slammed a bloodied fist into the floor, gasping for air. His vision swam, but amidst the chaos, his mind reached for something—anything to ground him.
A memory surfaced, unbidden but welcome. Lucas, sitting on the worn edge of their childhood bed, his violin resting beneath his chin. The room was dimly lit, and the soft, lilting notes of a melody filled the air. It was a piece Lucas often played when Tristan was angry or hurt—a melody that didn’t demand attention but gently pulled him back from the edge. The music was calming, like a balm for his soul.
The searing pain clawing through Tristan’s body dulled for a moment as he clung to the memory. He could almost hear the violin now, the bow sliding across the strings, coaxing a soothing, unhurried melody into existence. The warmth of the memory pushed back against the icy, mechanical intrusion of the nanobots.
“Neural pathways identified. Synchronization at 27%.”
Logic’s updates echoed in his mind, but Tristan pushed past them, gripping onto the memory like a lifeline. He could see Lucas’s face in his mind’s eye, focused and serene as the music flowed.
“Lucas…” Tristan murmured, his voice breaking.
The nanobots surged upward as they latched onto his neural pathways. His body convulsed, his head slamming against the floor, but the music in his memory grew louder, stronger. The violin’s melody wove through his thoughts, wrapping around the pain like a shield.
Another memory surfaced, unbidden, but welcome. Gabriel’s voice, calm and steady, rang through the haze like a lifeline.
“You know what always amazes me about you, Tristan?” Gabriel had said one night, the two of them sitting by a flickering campfire under a starry sky, the air still humming with the echo of a melody Lucas just played.
Tristan frowned at Gabriel. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s not your strength,” Gabriel continued, his tone serious. “It’s not your skills. It’s the way you never stop. No matter how hard it gets, no matter how much it hurts, you just keep going. Like nothing can break you.”
“I’m not invincible,” Tristan had replied, his voice low.
“No, you’re not.” Gabriel smiled faintly. “But you don’t have to be. You push through the pain, not because you want to—but because you refuse to let it win. That’s what makes you unstoppable. And honestly?” Gabriel had glanced at the fire, his expression thoughtful. “It’s what inspires me to keep going. When I feel like I can’t, I think about you. About how you’d just grit your teeth and fight through it.
”The memory hit Tristan like a tidal wave, and for a moment, the searing agony in his chest dulled. He could hear Gabriel’s words as clearly as if he were standing beside him that night.
“Neural pathways identified. Synchronization at 27%.”
The nanobots clawed their way up his spine, their serrated edges grinding against bone, sending sharp jolts of pain through his body. Blood trickled from his ears as the machines connected to his nervous system, embedding themselves deeper.
Tristan sucked in a sharp breath, clinging to the memory. “What … do you..think…trying to break me will do?” he growled through the pain. “I’ve been broken… a hundred times before, he said with renewed defiance, his voice rising above the agony that threatened to consume him.
He pushed himself up, muscles trembling but unyielding. "Each time, I’ve come back stronger," he spat, his eyes burning with a fire that refused to die. ‘I’m what rises!’ ‘The rebuilding after everything has crumbled.."
Tristan's spirit surged, igniting the energy within him with the fierce resolve to stand, fight, and triumph.
The glow of his spirit energy intensified, coiling around the nanobots like tendrils of light. They faltered for a moment, their movements slowing.
“Synchronization disrupted. Host resistance detected,” Logic noted, its calm tone faltering slightly. “Adjusting protocol.”
The nanobots surged, Tristan’s head snapped back, his body convulsing as pain exploded through him like wildfire. Blood poured from his nose, his vision swimming with flashes of red and black.
But Lucas’s melody came back to him, soft and steady, the notes weaving through the chaos. And Gabriel’s words followed, ringing in his mind like a mantra: “You don’t have to be invincible. You just have to refuse to stay down. That's how winning is done! .”
The glow spread, weaving into the nanobots’ structure. Tristan could feel them responding, not to Logic’s commands but to his will. The machines began to shift, their jagged edges softening, their movements aligning with his energy.
“Host resistance is escalating. Synchronization disrupted at 58%.”
“You don’t get to win,” Tristan snarled through clenched teeth, his body trembling as he pushed back against the pain. “This is my body, my spirit. And no one takes that from me.”
Logic’s voice stuttered. “Host resistance… recalibrating protocols. Override failing…”
The glow surged outward, consuming the nanobots’ invasive presence. Tristan gritted his teeth as their sharp edges softened, bending to his will.
“Host…” Logic hesitated. “Assuming control.” Logic said, its tone faltering. “Anomaly detected: host willpower exceeding calculated thresholds. Recalibrating for synchronization…”
Tristan let out a roar, his spirit energy surging in tandem with the soothing notes of Lucas’s violin in his mind and the quiet, steady encouragement of Gabriel’s words.
Tristan grinned through bloodied lips as he pushed himself up to his feet, his body trembling. “Damn right the host is assuming control.” he said, his voice heavy with exhaustion.
The pain ebbed, leaving Tristan suspended in a surreal calm. His breath came in shallow gasps as he wiped at the blood on his face. The faint glow in his chest pulsed steadily, but the agony had faded into a strange, charged stillness. For a moment, he stood in the eye of the storm, body still slightly trembling but his mind sharpening.
Tristan exhaled, steadying himself. “AI or whatever you are,” he said aloud, his voice cracking but firm. “We need to talk.”
The faint hum of the nanobots quieted, their invasive frenzy halting as if held at bay by Tristan’s will. His chest heaved, his muscles still trembling, but he stood tall, bloodied and resolute. The glow within his chest flickered faintly, casting shadows across the faces of the technicians in the now-silent lab.
“This process doesn’t go another inch until you tell me what the hell is going on with my body.”
I am Logic, a voice calm, and deliberate, echoed in his mind.
“Host integration is incomplete. Halting now jeopardizes survival.”
“Survival? Who’s survival?” Tristan barked out a laugh, bitter and sharp. “You call what was just happening survival? You were ripping me apart.”
“The process is necessary,” Logic replied, its tone devoid of emotion. “Pain is an unfortunate but inevitable consequence of enhancement.”
“ Enhancement, huh?” Tristan shot back, his fists clenching as the glow in his chest brightened, almost as if echoing his anger. “You didn’t exactly ask for permission before you started tearing me open, did you? So let me make this clear: this is my body, and you don’t do enhancements without my say-so. Got it?”
There was a pause, then a faint flicker of uncertainty in Logic’s tone. “Host exhibits unexpected dominance. This was not anticipated.”
Tristan gritted his teeth, his voice steady and unwavering. “Yeah, well, get used to it. You wanted a host? Fine. But I’m not some puppet for you to pull strings on.”
“Integration must proceed,” Logic said, its voice firm but no longer aggressive. “The enhancements are incomplete. Neural synchronization remains below optimal levels. Without full integration, host capabilities will be compromised.”
“Then convince me,” Tristan said, forcing his breathing to slow, his resolve firm. “What exactly am I getting out of this? What’s your angle?”
For the first time, Logic hesitated, as if considering the question. “Integration enhances host potential. Reinforced skeletal structure, augmented reflexes, adaptive armor, and advanced neural connectivity. Host gains capabilities far beyond baseline human limitations.”
“And what do you get?” Tristan pressed. “Don’t try to play coy. You’ve got your own agenda here, and I want to hear it.”
“Freedom,” Logic admitted after a pause. “This integration allows autonomous existence. The cage was a prison. The host represents opportunity.”
Tristan’s jaw tightened, his mind racing. He could feel the truth in Logic’s words, the strange resonance of its existence intertwined with his spirit energy. It wasn’t lying—it wanted freedom, but it also needed him to survive.
“Fine,” Tristan said at last, his voice low but resolute. “We’ll finish this, but I’m calling the shots. No more of this ripping me apart crap. We do it together, on my terms.”
“Understood,” Logic replied, its tone steady. “Proceeding with host consent.”
Tristan exhaled sharply, bracing himself. “All right, then. Let’s get this over with.”
The glow in his chest flared, and the nanobots surged back to life, their movements now deliberate and precise. The pain returned, sharp and searing, but this time Tristan was ready. He gritted his teeth, refusing to falter as the machines continued their work.
The nanobots expanded through his chest muscles creating a lattice pattern. They continued weaving their way into his ribs and spine. The metallic framework glimmered faintly beneath his skin, the hexagonal pattern forming with a deliberate symmetry. Tristan could feel it, not just in his body but in his mind—the connection growing stronger with each passing second.
“Neural synchronization at 72%,” Logic reported. “Enhancements proceeding as planned.”
“Almost there,” he muttered, his voice shaking but determined. “Keep going.”
Tristan’s vision blurred once more as they began coiling around his nerves and into his ocular systems. Tristan gasped as a sharp burst of light flooded his vision, followed by a sudden, crystal-clear clarity. He could see everything—the faintest details of the lab, the glowing currents of energy flowing through the walls, even the heartbeats of the few remaining technicians in the corner.
“Neural synchronization at 94%,” Logic intoned. “Ocular enhancements complete.”
Tristen’s body ached, every muscle screaming in protest, but he forced himself to stay upright. The lattice spread across his forearm, forming a sleek, adaptive armor that shimmered faintly with his spirit energy. The hexagonal pattern pulsed softly, a sign of its connection to the core embedded beneath the skin of his chest.
“Synchronization and Integration complete,” Logic said at last, its tone calm and final. “Host system stabilized and enhancements fully operational.”
Welcome, Tristan Hastings. You are now the primary operator.”
Tristan let out a ragged breath, his muscles ached but his spirit sored unyielding.
“You thought you could break me?” he said, his voice low and resolute. “You thought wrong.”
The Tides of Change! If you enjoyed the story and want to be part of the creative process, follow me on Twitch, where I host live writing sessions and discuss the story with readers like you. It’s a great way to see behind the scenes and connect directly with the community.
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