They reached the mountains by dusk.
Snow dusted the rocks, though it hadn't snowed in weeks. Frost said it was a side effect of the relay systems—something about artificial cooling units keeping the servers operational long after the war ended.
Signal kept her hand close to the Ashglass case.
"It's warming up," she said.
Evan frowned. "In the cold?"
She nodded. "Like it knows."
Juno checked the ridge ahead. "The relay station's five clicks. Cain's files said it was shut down manually. That means a kill code. Probably from Ellian."
Maya wiped her goggles. "You think he's already there?"
"No," Juno said. "But he's close."
Jerusalem – Two Hours Earlier
Ellian walked alone now. Halo stayed behind, reviewing transmission logs. She'd found patterns in Cain's voice—words that weren't said, but layered in audio spectrums. Hidden directives.
But Ellian didn't need translation.
He understood Cain.
At a helix-shaped server bank, he placed a key chip in the terminal. A hatch opened beneath the floor. Inside: a neural drive.
Ellian took it.
Cain's handwriting still marked the label.
"Don't use unless they forget."
He smiled.
"They forgot everything."
Tangier Mountains – Night
Reda's ship had dropped them at a base trailhead. From there, it was boots and frostbite.
They found the relay station half-buried in ice. A domed structure, its antenna bent but not broken.
Lyra hacked the entrance.
Inside, it was silent.
Old monitors blinked dimly. Every step they took echoed.
Signal opened the Ashglass case.
Nothing moved.
Then: light.
A slow pulse. Not from the glass—but from a wall panel.
Juno touched it.
The relay came to life.
A message played.
Cain's voice.
"If you're seeing this, then Ellian has woken. He is not your enemy. He is your mirror."
Maya: "What does that mean?"
The voice continued.
"Ashglass was made to record truth. But truth requires a witness. That's what Ellian is."
Frost backed away. "A witness to what?"
The screen changed.
An image: a child—young, sick, wired into a chair. The birth of the first experiment.
Cain's voice: "His memory holds what I erased from the others."
Evan whispered, "What did she erase?
Answer came in a name.
Signal's full name.
It appeared on the screen: Signal – Version 3.3, Derived from ELLIAN-0.
She stepped back, breath caught.
"I was… derived?"
Juno stood still. "You were a fail-safe."
The screen flickered. Another message queued.
Cain again: "If Ellian finds you, he will remember through you. If you resist, he will rewrite you. You must choose."
Signal didn't speak.
The Ashglass flared.
A shockwave hit the relay.
Outside, the wind went still. Then reversed. Trees bent the wrong way.
Lyra scrambled to secure the data.
Maya took position at the doorway.
Then came a sound—low, like grinding metal—but it wasn't mechanical.
It was a voice.
Ellian.
From the ridge.
He stood on the ledge above them, wind whipping his coat, his eyes glowing faintly.
He looked down and spoke clearly:
"You opened the memory. Now we finish what Cain started."