Day 30.
The Factory Floor.
Sauget, Illinois.
00:45 Hours.
The climb out of the Kernel felt different.
Before, the ladder was just steel rungs. Now, it felt like climbing out of a grave into a cage match.
The Usurpation Protocol hung in the air like ozone. The System had broadcast the rules to everyone in the territory. Every Null, every laborer, every survivor huddling in the barracks knew the score.
Kill a User. Become a User.
It was the ultimate lottery ticket. One stab with a shiv, one lucky swing with a pipe, and you stopped being a slave. You became a god. You got the stats, the skills, the immunity to the cold.
I emerged from the hatch into the factory floor. The green light of Phase 2 washed over the concrete, casting long, sick shadows.
"Close it," I ordered Travis.
Travis spun the wheel on the Nexus hatch. Thunk-Hiss. The heavy alloy door sealed, locking the map room away.
"We need to secure the barracks," I said, checking the load on my Fang .45. "The Nulls heard the broadcast. They're confused. They're scared. And some of them are doing the math."
"They wouldn't," Paige said. She was standing next to Ronnie, gripping her mop handle. The blue aura of her Logistics Candidate status flickered faintly around her hands. "We just survived the siege. We're a team."
"We're a hierarchy," I said. "And the System just handed out guns to the prisoners."
I looked at Boyd.
The kid was walking toward the server bank Boyd had rigged near the generator. He looked fragile. Even with the System Mercy healing his physical fatigue, he was still a twelve-year-old boy. His skin was pale silver, his eyes glowing blue, wires trailing from his neck.
To a desperate man, he didn't look like a Technomancer. He looked like an easy kill.
"Boyd," I called out. "Stay close."
"I need to calibrate the generator," Boyd droned, not looking back. "Phase 2 power requirements are up 40%. The grid is unstable."
He walked into the shadows of the machinery bay.
"Boyd!" I shouted.
Movement.
It wasn't a zombie. It was fast, quiet, and human.
Three figures detached themselves from the darkness behind the generator. They weren't wearing the grey jumpsuits of the loyal crew. They were wearing the ragged, scavenged clothes of the new recruits—the ones we had absorbed from the Coalition betrayal.
They moved in a pincer formation. Tactical. Predatory.
"Look out!" Yana screamed from the catwalk.
Boyd turned.
The first man—a heavy-set laborer named Davin—lunged. He held a sharpened screwdriver.
He didn't scream. He didn't hesitate. He drove the screwdriver into Boyd's shoulder.
THWACK.
It hit meat.
Boyd didn't scream. He gasped, a sound of surprise, not pain. The force of the blow knocked him back against the generator housing.
"Hold him!" Davin shouted. "Pin his arms! I need the throat!"
The other two men swarmed. One grabbed Boyd's legs. The other grabbed his left arm, pinning him to the metal.
"Do it!" the second man yelled. "Kill him! Take the Class!"
They knew. They knew exactly what they were doing. They weren't trying to escape. They were trying to upgrade.
I raised the Fang.
Too far. Thirty meters. Low light. Friendly fire risk was extreme. If I missed and hit Boyd, I would kill him.
"Travis!" I roared.
Travis was already moving. But he was heavy. He was slow.
Davin raised the screwdriver for a second strike. He aimed for the jugular.
"Mine!" Davin hissed. "It's mine!"
Boyd looked at the weapon. His blue eyes widened.
He didn't struggle. He didn't try to pull away.
He reached out with his free hand—the right one. He grabbed the exposed copper bus bar of the generator.
[TECHNOMANCER ABILITY: DISCHARGE.]
Z-Z-Z-Z-ACK!
A blue arc of electricity exploded from the generator. It didn't ground out. It traveled through Boyd.
Boyd convulsed. His silver skin flashed white.
The electricity channeled through him and into the men holding him.
"AAAAHHH!"
The two men pinning him flew backward, their muscles locking up in a violent seizure. They hit the floor, twitching, smoke rising from their clothes.
Davin, the one with the screwdriver, had rubber-soled boots. He stumbled back, shocked but standing.
He looked at Boyd. Boyd was slumped against the generator, the screwdriver sticking out of his shoulder. Blue sparks arced from the wound instead of blood.
"You freak!" Davin screamed. He raised the screwdriver again.
I was there.
I hit Davin at a dead run. I didn't tackle him. I shoulder-checked him, driving my elbow into his ribs.
CRACK.
Davin spun away, gasping. He fell to his knees.
I stood over him. The Cruelty trait hummed in my chest, a cold, dark engine.
"You," I said.
Davin looked up. His eyes were wide with panic. "He... he attacked us! The machine attacked us!"
"Liar," I said.
I looked at Boyd.
Helen was already there, pulling the screwdriver out.
"It missed the artery," Helen said, pressing a pad to the wound. "But he's hurt. Jack, he's bleeding coolant."
She held up her hand. It wasn't covered in red blood. It was covered in a thin, blueish fluid that smelled of ozone.
"I'm functional," Boyd whispered. His voice was full of static. "Structural integrity... 88%."
I turned back to Davin. And the two men on the floor who were starting to recover from the shock.
The rest of the Nulls—the twenty or so laborers who had been sleeping in the barracks—were gathering around. They watched. They waited.
This was the test.
If I let this slide, it would happen again. Tonight. Tomorrow. Every time a User slept, a Null would be there with a knife.
The Usurpation Protocol was a cancer. I had to cut it out.
"Travis," I said.
The Tank stepped up beside me. He looked at Boyd, then at the attackers. His orange eyes flared.
"They hurt the little man," Travis rumbled.
"Bring them," I said.
Travis grabbed the two stunned men by their ankles. He dragged them into the center of the factory floor, under the green light of the skylight.
I grabbed Davin by his hair and marched him over. I kicked the back of his knees, forcing him down.
Three men. Kneeling.
"Listen to me!" I shouted to the room. My voice echoed off the steel walls. "Listen closely, because I'm only going to say this once."
I paced in front of the line.
"The System changed the rules," I said. "It told you that if you kill one of us, you become one of us. It told you that murder is a promotion."
I stopped in front of Davin.
"It lied."
"It's in the text!" Davin shouted, finding his courage. "It's a rule! Usurpation! We have the right!"
"You have the capability," I corrected. "Not the right."
I drew the Fang .45.
"We are surrounded by enemies," I said. "The Enclave. The Zealots. The Tier 4 Hives. If we start killing each other for upgrades, we do their work for them. We die. All of us."
"I just wanted to be strong," one of the shocked men wept. "I'm tired of being weak. I'm tired of being hungry."
"I know," I said. The words were soft, but there was no pity in them. "But weakness isn't cured by treason."
I looked at the crowd of Nulls.
"Ronnie," I called out. "Step forward."
Ronnie stepped out of the crowd. He looked nervous, but he stood tall.
"Paige," I said. "Step forward."
Paige joined him.
"Look at them," I told the crowd. "They didn't try to kill me. They didn't try to stab Boyd in the dark. They worked. They fought. And because of that, they are Candidates."
I pointed at the blue text floating over Ronnie's head.
`[CANDIDATE: CONSTRUCTOR CLASS.]`
"They earned their power," I said. "That is the law of Sector 1. You earn it. You don't steal it."
I turned back to Davin.
"You tried to steal it."
"Jack, please," Davin begged. "I won't do it again. I swear. Put me in the Gutter. I'll work."
I looked at the screwdriver on the floor. The one stained with Boyd's blue blood.
`[ROOT: KILL HIM. ESTABLISH DOMINANCE. FEAR IS THE ONLY LAW.]`
`[ADMINISTRATOR: THREAT ELIMINATION RECOMMENDED. ZERO TOLERANCE PROTOCOL.]`
For once, the voices agreed.
"You broke the chain," I said.
I raised the gun.
BANG.
Davin collapsed.
The two men next to him screamed.
BANG. BANG.
Silence.
Three bodies lay on the concrete. The smell of gunpowder mixed with the ozone of the Nexus.
I holstered the gun.
"New rule," I announced. "Attempted Usurpation is a capital offense. You touch a User, you die. You plot against a User, you die."
I looked at the crowd.
"But if you work," I said, pointing at Ronnie, "if you hold the line, if you prove your loyalty... you ascend. The System gives classes to those who build, not just those who kill."
It was a half-truth. But it was enough.
The tension in the room broke. The hungry, predatory look in the Nulls' eyes faded, replaced by fear and calculation. They looked at Ronnie with envy, not at me with murder.
"Clean this up," I said to Paige. "The Gutter needs fuel."
Paige nodded. "Yes, Jack."
I walked over to Boyd. Helen had bandaged his shoulder. He was sitting up, typing on a holographic keyboard that only he could see.
"Damage report," I said.
"Minor," Boyd said. "Servo damage in the left deltoid. I can repair it. But Jack..."
He looked up at me.
"The System rewarded them," Boyd whispered. "When they attacked me... I saw their stats spike. The System wants this. It gave them a combat buff just for trying."
"I know," I said.
I looked at the green sky through the shattered roof.
"Phase 2 isn't a game," I said. "It's a gladiatorial arena. And the System is betting on the lions."
I put a hand on Boyd's good shoulder.
"Get the generator running. We have a recruitment broadcast to make."
FOUNDRY PROTOCOL - DAY 30
SECTOR 1 (JACK MONROE) █████████░ 9/10 Nodes
STATUS: INTERNAL SECURITY RESTORED
Casualties: 3 Mutineers (Executed)
Injuries: Boyd (Stab Wound/Coolant Leak)
New Law: Zero Tolerance for Usurpation
Next Event: Yana's Reveal / The Secret