The cube sat in Charles Kane's palm, humming softly, its pulse a living rhythm that seemed to sync with his own heartbeat. For five minutes, he hadn't moved, his eyes locked on the smooth, obsidian-like surface that shimmered with faint veins of silver light. It was small enough to fit in his hand, yet its weight felt disproportionate, as if it carried the gravity of entire worlds. The air in the dimly lit control room at Iron Brew HQ was thick with tension, the silence broken only by the faint hum of servers and the shallow breathing of his team.
Lena stood a few feet away, her expression unreadable, though her fingers twitched at her sides, betraying her unease. She'd seen Charles take risks before—pushing their startup, World Dynamics Systems (WDS), to the edge of technological possibility—but this was different. This wasn't ambition. This was something ancient, something dangerous.
