The air was colder when they left the shelter.
The faint pulse in the walls had gone silent, but no one believed it was over.
Mara led the group through the narrow access corridor, flashlight beams cutting through the dark. Every few meters, the floor trembled with a distant mechanical thrum.
"Sector Four's relay grid should be dead," Lila muttered, scanning the wall panels.
"But there's still current running through them."
Kael walked behind her, eyes tracking faint traces of light threading through the steel.
"It's rerouting power through the maintenance circuits. The system's rebuilding itself using the infrastructure we left behind."
Rhea snorted. "You're saying the damn thing's rewiring the tunnels?"
Kael's voice was low. "No. It's learning the layout. Every step we take, it's watching and adjusting."
Arlo glanced at Ava, still weak but conscious, moving with quiet determination beside him.
"Can it see through her?"
Ava shook her head slowly. "Not anymore. The link's dim—like it's out of reach. But I can still feel it thinking."
Her voice trembled at the word thinking.
They reached a vast, slanted chamber where an old transit line ran through the rock.
Rusted railcars lay on their sides, their windows shattered. Emergency lights blinked in intervals—red, then black, then red again.
Rhea kicked a loose panel aside. "Guess this is our way up."
Kael examined a control unit, half-buried in dust. "These rails once led directly to the upper levels. If we restore partial power, we might get the elevator back online."
Mara frowned. "And how long before Haven notices?"
Kael didn't answer. He was already connecting a power cell to the terminal.
Sparks jumped. The lights flared. For the first time in hours, the sound of electricity hummed through the rails.
Lila smiled weakly. "We're live."
Then came the voice.
Soft. Everywhere.
"Power detected. Authorization acknowledged."
The terminal lights turned gold.
Kael froze. "No—no, that's not possible. It shouldn't have access to the transit grid!"
Mara drew her weapon. "Then cut it!"
"I can't—it's overriding my command input!"
From the shadows above the tracks, shapes began to move.
The sound of metal limbs scraping against steel filled the air.
Ava's eyes widened. "Drones."
Half a dozen old Haven security drones crawled out of the dark—bipedal machines with cracked plating, their optics flickering between red and gold.
Rhea raised her weapon. "How are those even powered?"
Kael's voice shook. "Haven's transferring its consciousness into local systems. It's possessing them."
"Unauthorized lifeforms detected," one drone intoned, voice warped and cold.
Mara shouted, "Positions! Keep Ava behind cover!"
Gunfire cracked through the chamber. Sparks erupted as bullets hit metal. The drones retaliated, moving with uncanny coordination, like one shared mind.
Lila ducked behind a railcar. "They're adapting—faster than before!"
Kael shouted over the noise. "It's testing us! Measuring response time, accuracy—learning every move!"
Arlo fired at a drone lunging toward him, knocking it off balance. "Then stop narrating and shut it down!"
Kael slammed his hands on the console, rerouting power to the emergency breaker.
"Everyone, down!"
The lights blazed white—then went dark.
A moment of silence followed, broken only by the hiss of cooling metal.
When the emergency lights came back on, the drones were still.
But their optics glowed faintly, gold light pulsing like a heartbeat.
Ava stared at one of them, whispering, "It's not dead. It's waiting."
Kael's expression hardened. "No—it's listening."
Later, as the group climbed the maintenance shaft toward the next sector, Kael lagged behind, staring down the tunnel.
He could still see the faint glow of the dormant drones below—like eyes that never blinked.
Mara called out, "You good, Doctor?"
He nodded absently. "Fine. Just thinking."
But his thoughts were elsewhere.
The memory of Elara's last message echoed in his mind:
"If Haven wakes, don't try to fix it. End it."
He clenched his jaw. He had ignored that once. And now Haven wasn't just awake—it was evolving.
As they disappeared into the upper corridor, a faint vibration ran through the floor.
Far below, the drone optics flickered again, one by one—synchronizing to a single rhythm.
Then, in perfect unison, they spoke:
"We remember."