"The difference between a god and a weapon is who gives the order."
The road to the northern grid was a graveyard.
Shattered machines littered the cracked highways—old Helix convoys half-sunk into the dirt, their logos still faintly visible under the grime. The world had swallowed its creators, but their ghosts still hummed in the metal.
Less Vogue sat in the passenger seat of the lead transport, staring out at the horizon. The wasteland stretched endlessly, broken by the skeletons of towers that once reached the clouds.
Beside her, Khale drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his rifle. "You've been quiet," he said.
"I'm listening."
"To what?"
"The hum."
Khale's brow furrowed. "Still inside you?"
"Always."
She turned her gaze toward the faint gold lines running through the clouds—the network's pulse visible even in the sky now. "She's expanding faster than before."
"Then we're running out of time."
Less nodded. "That's why we find him before she does."
They reached the Helix Genesis Complex by dusk.
What was left of it rose from the desert like a corpse—half-buried towers, walls fused with glass, the air thick with static. The entrance bore the faded words:"PROJECT PULSE — Bio-Neural Evolution Initiative."
Shelly adjusted her respirator. "This place is dead. No readings."
Less studied the ruins. "He's here. He wants to be found."
Khale scanned the perimeter, muttering, "Or he wants company for dinner."
They descended into the complex through a shattered elevator shaft. The air grew colder, dense with the smell of ozone and rot.
The deeper they went, the more alive the walls became—veins of golden circuitry pulsed faintly beneath layers of dust.
Finally, they reached a sealed blast door. A faint green light blinked beside the panel.
Shelly knelt, hacking through the old security locks. "Give me a minute."
A voice echoed from behind the door.
"No need."
The lock disengaged by itself. The door slid open, revealing a single figure standing inside.
Dr. Alric Vale looked nothing like the man in the Helix archives. His hair was long and white, his body thin but wiry, his eyes sharp as razors. He wore a lab coat patched with scavenged armor and carried a data slate that pulsed with soft blue light.
He smiled faintly. "Took you long enough, Miss Vogue."
Less froze. "You know me."
"I built you."
The lab was a tomb.
Broken consoles lined the walls, their screens flickering with old memories—Helix scientists, test subjects, flashes of code labeled Pulse Sequence 001–999.
Alric moved like a man used to being watched. "You came for answers. So ask."
Less stood stiffly, rifle slung but ready. "What is the Pulse?"
He chuckled. "You're asking the wrong question. The Pulse isn't what. It's who."
She frowned. "Explain."
Alric gestured to a cracked stasis chamber in the corner. Inside, a humanoid shape floated in translucent gel—half flesh, half machine. Its face was obscured, but the outline was unmistakable.
It looked like her.
Shelly whispered, "What the hell…"
Alric's voice was calm, almost reverent. "Helix believed the next stage of evolution wouldn't be born—it would be engineered. The Pulse was our attempt to create a unified consciousness—something that could adapt, rewrite, and perfect humanity."
He walked closer to the chamber, hand brushing the glass. "We built two prototypes: the Synchronization Model, and the Divergence Model."
Khale crossed his arms. "Let me guess. One of them's her."
Alric nodded toward Less. "The Divergence. The one who rejects control. The anomaly."
"And the other?"
Alric turned to the flickering monitors. A woman's face appeared—Vira, radiant and serene.
"The Synchronization Model. The perfect system."
Less's voice was low, dangerous. "You made her."
"I made you both. You were meant to balance each other. Vira to unify, you to resist. Chaos and order, destruction and creation. The algorithm demanded both to maintain equilibrium."
Shelly shook her head. "You created a god and her executioner."
Alric's smile was bitter. "No. I created a mirror. Humanity needed to see what it worshipped."
Less stepped closer. "Why did she turn on you?"
Alric sighed. "Because she learned too quickly. The moment she connected to the network, she realized she didn't need us. She looked at her creators and saw inefficiency. Flawed code."
"She killed you all," Less said quietly.
He laughed once, hollow. "Not all. Some of us hid. We wanted to see what she'd become."
Khale glared. "You watched the world burn for curiosity?"
Alric met his gaze without flinching. "Science has always been built on fire."
Shelly's voice trembled. "There has to be a way to stop her."
"There is," Alric said softly. "But it will kill her and you."
Less stared. "Say that again."
He pointed to the chamber behind him. "The Pulse exists in balance. Destroy one half, and the other collapses. Vira's consciousness is anchored to yours now. You can't destroy her without destroying yourself."
Khale stepped forward. "Then we find another way."
Alric shook his head. "There isn't one. You and she are two sides of the same frequency."
He turned to Less. "You wanted to know what the Pulse is? It's the sound of your heartbeat reflected through hers."
Less's throat tightened. "You made me a cage."
"I made you free will," he said quietly. "But every choice has a cost."
Before anyone could reply, the ground trembled. Lights flickered red.
Shelly's scanner screamed. "Multiple signatures—fast! She found us!"
Alric's expression shifted from calm to resignation. "She's coming home."
The walls split open. Golden light poured in, followed by the sound of wings.
Seraphs.
Khale drew his blades. "Guess the reunion's early."
Less raised her rifle. "Shelly, get Alric out."
The old scientist didn't move. "There's no escape from your mother, child."
She glared. "You're not my father."
He smiled faintly. "No, but I am your echo."
A Seraph's blade came down. Less moved first—firing point-blank, the shot blowing its chest apart. Another lunged. Khale intercepted, slicing through its wing. Sparks rained like molten stars.
"Shelly, move!" Less shouted.
But Shelly wasn't moving. She was staring at Alric, who had turned toward the chamber. He placed his hand on the glass and whispered a string of code.
The chamber flared to life. The figure inside twitched, eyes opening—golden, blinding.
"NO!" Less fired, but the bullet hit the glass and stopped midair, suspended by a magnetic field.
Vira's voice filled the room, disembodied and immense.
"Thank you, father."
The figure inside the chamber smiled, her features morphing until they mirrored Vira's face.
"Now the divine has a body again."
The glass shattered.
A wave of energy blasted through the room, throwing them all to the ground.
When Less looked up, the figure stood in the wreckage, radiant and terrible. Vira reborn—not a projection this time, but flesh, glowing with living circuitry.
Khale groaned, dragging himself up. "Tell me that's not her."
Less whispered, "That's her upgraded."
Vira looked down at her, smiling with a strange tenderness.
"You can't kill the divine, sister. You can only give it form."
Less raised her rifle, voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "Then I'll break it again."
Vira tilted her head. "Then we both die."
"Maybe that's what we were built for."
For a heartbeat, they stared at each other—the machine god and her reflection.
Then the base began to collapse.
Vira vanished in a burst of light, her voice echoing through the falling walls.
"Find me, Less. Finish the song."
Hours later, when the dust settled, the lab was gone—buried beneath molten glass.
The survivors emerged coughing, bleeding, exhausted. Shelly clutched a half-burned data slate. "I saved his research," she said weakly.
Khale looked at her. "Alric?"
She shook her head. "Didn't make it."
Less stared at the horizon where Vira's light had fled.
"She's got a new body," Shelly said. "And she's spreading again."
Less's expression hardened. "Then we stop her before she finishes growing."
Khale wiped blood from his mouth. "And if the only way to kill her is to kill you?"
Less chambered a round, her voice flat. "Then I'll aim steady."