The chamber's silence was unnatural. The team stood frozen, breath fogging in the cold, staring at Lucien Vale suspended like a ghost in machinery—his eyes closed, his face unchanged by the years, his body entangled in glimmering neural conduits.
"Is he alive?" Elijah asked, weapon half-raised.
Aurora approached slowly, unable to look away.
"He's not just alive," she whispered. "He's listening."
Wren scanned the frequency panel. "He's been tapping into neural frequencies, intercepting signal waves like… a beacon. But his vitals are stable. No decay. He's been… self-sustaining through the Seed."
"Elijah," Aurora said sharply. "Power down the static inhibitors."
"What? Are you serious?" he replied, alarmed. "This could wake up every transmitter in the region."
"Exactly," she said. "It'll wake him."
With reluctance, Elijah cut the power. The room dimmed, the mechanical hum dropped—and then the entire obsidian chamber sighed. A long breath, like a cathedral exhaling.
Then Lucien's eyes opened.
Not blinking. Just wide, sharp, and glowing faint blue at the irises.
He spoke instantly, voice rasped but clear. "Aurora Kyre. You came."
She froze.
"I didn't think you'd ever forgive me," he said, looking directly at her. "Or risk Isla."
"She's dying," Aurora said coldly. "Because of you. Because of what you made her."
Lucien's expression didn't flinch. "No. She's becoming."
Wren stepped forward. "Becoming what, Lucien?"
"A convergence," he said. "The Seed wasn't just a weapon. It was a bridge. Isla was never designed to be controlled—she was meant to evolve us."
Xander scoffed. "Evolve us into what? Signal-fed slaves?"
"No," Lucien replied. "Into frequencies themselves. Thought without body. Memory without decay. We were building eternity."
Aurora's voice broke. "You experimented on my child!"
"She was never a child," Lucien said. "Not in the traditional sense. She was conceived in code and blood. You knew what we were creating, Aurora."
"I thought we were ending the war," she snapped.
Lucien nodded. "And we did. But peace... costs identity."
There was a long silence. Then, from behind them, a faint mechanical hiss.
Aurora turned fast—too fast.
Isla stood in the doorway, barefoot, eyes glowing faint like Lucien's.
"She heard your voice," Aurora said, breathless.
Lucien looked at Isla, stunned.
"She's grown," he whispered. "I didn't expect to feel... pride."
Isla stepped closer, her voice dreamy. "You're the voice in my dreams."
Lucien slowly dropped from the stasis field, legs trembling but standing. "I didn't just build you, Isla. I built through you. You are the lock and the key."
"And now?" Aurora asked, tears welling. "What do you plan to do?"
Lucien looked around at all of them.
"Now," he said, "I finish what we started. I stop the others from using what's left of the Vault to broadcast the Dark Signal—a frequency that kills choice. And Isla is the only one who can override it."
Aurora stepped between him and her daughter. "You'll use her over my dead body."
Lucien's voice softened. "Then you'd better prepare to die, Aurora."
The air went still.
And Isla? She just smiled… her hands flickering with signal-light.
She was already changing.