00:09:59.
The red digits blinked like a heartbeat.
Nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds until something ended—or everything did.
Rhea couldn't breathe for a second. Not from fear.
From him.
Lucien's fingers brushed the back of her hand, anchoring her even as alarms flared again overhead. She looked up into those steel-gray eyes, and the world narrowed. No Kairo. No clone. Just the ache in her chest that had nothing to do with danger—and everything to do with him still choosing her.
"I should kiss you again," he whispered, half breathless, half smirking. "You fight better when you're emotionally unstable."
Her lips twitched, even as the countdown reminded her they were seconds away from annihilation. "Then I'll die extremely efficient."
But then the lights flickered. A deep mechanical groan shook the floor. And romance was forced to the backseat.
00:09:12
They bolted.
Lucien pulled Rhea down the corridor, hand tight around hers. "We need to reach the central command vault."
"That's three levels down," Rhea said, dodging sparks falling from the ceiling. "And Kairo's likely triggered the auto-purge."
"So we beat it to the punch."
Another tremor hit. Sirens blared. The AI system wasn't just collapsing—it was cleansing itself.
A self-destruct woven in digital DNA.
They reached the lift—powered down. Rhea slammed her wrist console against the override panel.
Come on, come on…
It blinked red.
ACCESS DENIED.
Lucien drew his blade, flipped it, and jammed it into the circuit. Sparks flared—and the lift groaned to life. "That's not how it works," Rhea muttered.
"It worked, didn't it?"
The doors opened—and they dove in.
00:08:27
The descent felt like a free fall. The metal box rattled, lights above strobing.
Lucien turned to her. "You okay?"
"I'm fine."
"You're shaking."
"From rage."
He didn't buy it.
So he stepped close, so close she felt every breath. "We might not survive this."
She looked up.
"No," she said. "We will. And when we do—when this ends—I want to remember this part, too. Not just the running. Not just the pain. This."
Lucien's eyes darkened. "Then remember this."
His lips pressed to her forehead—soft, lingering—like a secret meant just for her.
It wasn't a kiss meant to steal. It was a kiss meant to give.
Then the lift slammed to a stop.
00:07:39
They ran again.
The corridors were darker now, colder. The security systems had shut down, but something else had powered up.
A hum beneath the floor. A pulse through the walls.
Rhea skidded to a stop near a ventilation shaft. "Shortcut," she said. "If Kairo sealed the main path, this is our best chance."
Lucien raised an eyebrow. "Claustrophobic much?"
"You'll survive."
They crawled through the shaft, metal creaking under every move. Rhea felt the heat of his body behind her—too close, too much—and cursed her heart for skipping when the world was ending.
"Remind me," he whispered, breath warm against her ankle, "why I didn't take the clone instead?"
She kicked backward lightly. "Because she doesn't sass you back."
"I must have a kink for danger."
They reached the grate—Rhea kicked it out—and dropped into the mainframe vault.
00:06:02
It was massive.
Towers of servers, glowing veins of cables, and in the center—an interface pulsing with red warning signs. The AI core.
And at the console—
Kairo.
He turned, slow, like he'd been expecting them.
"You're late," he said.
Lucien stepped forward, but Rhea grabbed his arm.
"I've got this."
Her boots echoed across the steel floor.
"Kairo, this ends now."
"It never ends," he replied calmly. "The system's evolved beyond control. You activated the sync protocol. You fed it."
"I took it back."
He smiled. "Not all of it."
Lucien fired a dart—Kairo dodged. A gun appeared in his hand, and suddenly, they weren't arguing—they were surviving.
Rhea dove behind a console.
Lucien rolled under cover.
Gunfire sparked off metal, and Rhea's fingers flew across the keypad. "I need sixty seconds to rewrite the purge command!"
00:04:50
Lucien flanked left, trading shots. Kairo was trained. Every move calculated.
"You don't get it," he shouted. "This system was built to replace us. We failed. You, me, the entire damned world."
Rhea shouted back, "Then we rewrite the ending."
She slammed in her last line of code. The system protested, screamed.
"Override command: Project Phoenix," she said.
ACCESS GRANTED.
00:03:41
Lucien disarmed Kairo in a final rush, slamming him against the wall.
Blood at the corner of Kairo's mouth. "Even if you win, Rhea, you've already lost something you'll never get back."
Rhea stepped forward. "Then I'll live with the scar. At least it's mine."
She hit ENTER.
The core glowed blinding white.
Shutdown engaged. Reset protocol activated.
00:02:00
The entire system began to reboot.
And Rhea collapsed to her knees.
Lucien rushed to her. "Rhea—"
"I'm okay," she whispered, tears in her eyes. "It's over."
He cupped her face. "You did it."
She nodded, exhausted. "No, we did."
Their foreheads touched—sweat, tears, everything in between.
And when Lucien kissed her this time—it wasn't panic or desperation.
It was after.
It was real.
It was theirs.
The countdown hit 00:00:00.
And the world exhaled.
[ To be continued...]