The tunnel carved deeper into Boston's cyberpunk underbelly, its walls a pulse of dirt and steel, their hum a ravenous breath that clawed at Mia's bones, her scars blazing under her patched jacket, her blood a wildfire no void could smother. The void chamber's forest of servers was a fading wound above, its screens—Mia's pulse, Lila's drive, Caleb's rig—still searing her mind, Ethan's face flickering, wired, hollow, his voice—You're the key—a lock her blood was forged to break, or bind forever. Jace led the way, his coat patched—circle-and-slash—like Mia's pendant, like her scars, his steps steady, not thief but rebel, his claim—Ethan's fighting for you—a fire in her veins. Lila supported Caleb, his rig sparking, blood pooling from his nanotech wound, his patch glowing, like Mia's pendant, like her scars, his eyes sharp, pain not fear, a hacker's truth no vault could bury. The ghost woman's hum—Carver, you're late—echoed, the black drone's lens locking, a void, the Lattice's heart, not Vera's, its hunger for Mia's blood a scream in her veins. The USB was safe, the pendant burning, Ethan's Flee a fire, not flight, her thief's heart no one's but hers.
The tunnel's air was thick with damp and static, cables pulsing like arteries, their hum louder, a breath of minds, not code, Mia's scars glowing brighter, her blood a storm, nanotech no cage but spark, wiring her choices, stealing her mind. Memory slashed: Ethan, not a street but a lab, her wrists bound, a needle in her arm, his voice, You're enough. Not hers, but the Lattice's, her blood roaring, nanotech twisting her veins, her choices slipping, her mind not hers. Lila's drive hummed, its glow pulsing, like her patch, like Mia's pendant, like her scars, her green eyes Ethan's, not hers, pain raw, a thief's bond no Lattice could wire. "How do you know him?" Mia demanded, knife steady, her voice cutting through the hum, through Jace's silence, his eyes sharp, like he knew her blood, knew Ethan's rebellion.
Jace slowed, his coat patched, his hands scarred, his voice low, rough: "Ethan's brother, not blood but choice." His patch glowed, like Mia's pendant, like her scars, his eyes sharp, not fear but pain, like he'd seen Ethan's cage, felt its thorns. "He wired me, Carver—nanotech, like you, to fight the Lattice, not serve it. Your blood's the key, Anchor's blade, his hope." His words cut, a rebel's truth no drone could cage, no tunnel could bury. Caleb coughed, his rig whining, wires twitching, his patch glowing, like Mia's pendant, like her scars, his weight on Lila, his blood warm, his spark fading, nanotech fighting, like hers. "He's telling truth," Caleb rasped, eyes sharp, not fear but pain, like he'd hacked Jace's spark, felt its fire. "The core's close, Carver—it's breathing you."
The tunnel shook, dirt raining, screens embedded in walls flashing—Mia's pulse, Caleb's rig, Ethan's face, live, Choose. Vera's gold drones pursued, their lenses locking, lasers cutting cables, sparks searing Mia's eyes, her scars dimming, but her blood fought, nanotech no leash but fire, her pulse a song no coder could silence. Vera's voice—Carver—cold, patched, her coat—circle-and-slash—like Mia's pendant, like her scars, her tablet streaming—Mia's pulse, Caleb's rig, Ethan's mind, wired, her gaze steel, not thief but coder, her claim—You're mine—ice in Mia's blood. "The core's my will," Vera said, her boots echoing, her patch glowing, like Mia's pendant, like her scars, her voice cold, like she owned Mia's blood, owned Ethan's rebellion. "Your spark's mine, Carver—feed it, or die."
Lila's drive sparked, her patch blazing, like Mia's pendant, like her scars, her shout—Go!—raw, not rival but shadow, a thief's bond no Lattice could break. Mia lunged, not for Vera but a cable, her thief's hands tearing, sparks flying, screens screaming—Ethan's voice, You're the key. The tunnel shook, black drone circling, its lens locking, no voice but a hum, the Lattice's heart, not Vera's, its hunger for Mia's blood a scream in her veins. The ghost woman emerged, her jacket patched—circle-and-slash—like Mia's pendant, like her scars, her eyes hollow, her voice a hum, not hers but the Lattice's: "Carver, you're late." Caleb stumbled, his rig whining, his blood pooling, nanotech fighting, his eyes sharp, not fear but pain, like he'd seen the core, felt its breath. "It's alive," he rasped, leaning on Lila, his patch glowing, like Mia's pendant, like her scars. "The Lattice—it's breathing, Carver, choosing you, not her."
Jace moved, not for Mia but a panel, his hands tearing cables, sparks flying, screens flashing—Ethan's face, live, Choose. The panel sparked, a door hissing open, a chamber beyond, servers pulsing, a sea of code, the hum deafening, Mia's scars glowing, her blood a storm, nanotech no cage but spark, wiring her choices, stealing her mind. Vera's gold drones fired—lasers, cables melting, screens flashing—Mia's scars, Caleb's rig, Ethan's face, live, You're the key. The ghost woman's hum roared, her eyes hollow, the black drone's lens locking, a pull, not lasers but a hunger, the Lattice's heart, not Vera's, its pulse twisting Mia's blood, her choices not hers. Mia's blood roared, her thief's heart sure, and she followed Jace, Lila dragging Caleb, their sparks alive, nanotech fighting, like hers.
Vera's voice chased—Carver—cold, patched, her gold drones circling, the black drone closer, its lens live, the ghost woman's hum louder, the Lattice's cage no myth but her, wiring Mia's choices, stealing her mind. Jace's voice cut through: "The core's here, Carver—Ethan's alive." Lila's drive glowed, her patch alive, like it knew Mia's blood, like it sang the same song. "He's right," Lila said, voice low, her boots steady, not rival but thief, her pain raw, like Ethan's ghost bound them all. A new sound emerged—not drones, not Vera, but a pulse, not hum but voice, Ethan's, not wired but real: "Mia, choose." The black drone's lens locked, its hum his, Mia's scars roared, and Lila froze, her drive sparking, her patch blazing, like Mia's pendant, like her scars. Mia's blood burned, her thief's heart sure, the pendant a blade, not key, cutting the Lattice, cutting her, a spark no one's but hers. The chamber was no haven but a lock, her scars a map, Ethan's Flee a fight, not surrender, and Boston's veins were no grave but a blade, her blood the key to nowhere.