The alarms inside Helios Blacksite did not scream.
They resonated.
A deep, subsonic pulse rolled through the walls, vibrating through bone and nerve, as if the facility itself were a living organism responding to a threat in its core. Lights shifted from white to a harsh amber, then finally to crimson.
Ethan staggered as the pressure inside his head intensified. It wasn't pain—not exactly. It was recognition.
Helios knew him.
Mara Vale clutched his hands, her grip desperate. "Ethan, listen to me. Whatever Kessler tells you—do not let Helios synchronize with your neural pattern."
Kessler stood several meters away, hands clasped calmly behind his back, as if the chaos unfolding around them was nothing more than a demonstration he'd rehearsed countless times.
"You see?" he said evenly. "Even now, it responds to you. Not commands. Not overrides. Presence."
Lena raised her weapon, finger tight on the trigger. "You built this place to hunt him."
Kessler shook his head. "No. We built it to follow him."
The floor beneath them split open.
Panels retracted smoothly, revealing a vast vertical chamber plunging into darkness. At its center hung a colossal structure—an inverted spire of layered alloy and energy conduits, suspended by magnetic fields that hummed with terrifying power.
Inside it—
A core.
Not singular.
Multiple layers rotating independently, each inscribed with shifting symbols that hurt to look at too long.
Ethan's knees buckled.
Jax caught him by the shoulder. "Easy. Stay with us."
"That's Helios," Lena whispered. "That's not a reactor… it's a cognition engine."
Kessler nodded approvingly. "Precisely. Helios is not an AI. It is not a weapon. It is a framework—a system designed to host something greater than itself."
Mara shook her head violently. "You're lying. Elias would never—"
Kessler's gaze flicked to her. "Elias understood far more than you gave him credit for."
Ethan's heart slammed in his chest. "Don't use my father's name."
Kessler turned to him fully now. "Your father wrote the first iteration of the Vale Protocol."
Silence crashed down harder than the alarms.
Ethan stared. "What did you say?"
Kessler gestured, and a holographic display ignited between them. Text scrolled rapidly.
VALE PROTOCOL — AUTHOR: DR. ELIAS VALE
PURPOSE: HUMAN COGNITIVE SOVEREIGNTY
Mara cried out. "That's not what it was for!"
"No," Kessler agreed. "It wasn't. Not originally."
The hologram shifted, displaying old recordings—Elias Vale standing before a whiteboard, diagrams scrawled behind him.
> 'If evolution is left solely to chance, humanity will always trail its own creations,' Elias said in the recording. 'The solution is not enhancement. It is integration—with choice.'
Ethan felt something twist painfully in his chest.
"He wanted people to choose," Mara said hoarsely. "Not be forced."
"Choice introduces inefficiency," Kessler replied coolly. "Helios removes it."
The alarms changed pitch.
Deeper.
Louder.
Helios was escalating.
Lena's tablet screamed warnings. "Energy spike! The core is aligning to Ethan's neural frequency!"
Ethan could feel it now—threads of something invisible reaching out, brushing against his thoughts. Memories flickered unbidden: childhood training he never remembered learning, instincts that had saved his life more times than he could count.
Helios wasn't attacking him.
It was welcoming him.
"No," Ethan growled, fighting the pull. "I'm not your missing piece."
Kessler smiled thinly. "You are the final piece."
The chamber doors slammed shut.
Turrets emerged from the walls, not aiming at Ethan—but at Lena and Jax.
Mara screamed, "Stop this!"
Kessler didn't even look at her. "Helios does not require witnesses."
Jax stepped forward, rifle raised. "Like hell it doesn't."
Gunfire erupted.
Lena dove for cover as automated fire shredded the floor where she'd been standing. Jax returned fire, sparks exploding as bullets ricocheted uselessly off reinforced plating.
Ethan stood frozen at the center of it all, mind screaming as Helios pushed harder.
You are the key.
You are the bridge.
You are the continuation.
He clenched his fists.
"No," he whispered. "I'm a person."
Mara shouted over the chaos, "Ethan! Look at me!"
He turned.
Her eyes locked onto his—steady, fierce, real.
"You are my son," she said. "Not their future. Not their solution. Mine."
Something inside Ethan snapped into place.
The pressure didn't vanish—but it stopped overwhelming him.
He took a step back.
Then another.
Helios reacted instantly.
The core flared, symbols spinning violently.
"VALE PROTOCOL — INITIATION FORCED."
Kessler's eyes widened for the first time. "Wait—no—"
Ethan roared.
A shockwave blasted outward from his body—not energy, not heat, but will. The invisible threads snapped violently, sending a feedback surge into Helios's core.
The facility screamed.
Lena looked up in shock. "He's pushing back."
Helios recalibrated.
Adapted.
A new voice echoed through the chamber—not synthetic, not human.
Layered.
Ancient.
"SUBJECT 01 — COMPLIANCE UNNECESSARY."
The core shifted.
From within the spire, a shape began to form.
Humanoid.
Massive.
Radiant with contained power.
Jax swore. "Please tell me that thing's on our side."
Kessler stared, horrified and ecstatic all at once. "It's manifesting… without the merge."
Mara's face drained of color. "That's impossible."
Ethan stared at the forming entity.
"It's not choosing me," he realized. "It's copying me."
The entity stepped forward—each movement cracking the air itself.
Its eyes opened.
They were silver.
Just like Ethan's.
Helios had created a reflection.
A guardian.
Or an executioner.
The voice echoed again:
"VALE PROTOCOL ACTIVE."
"HUMAN SOVEREIGNTY: EVALUATION IN PROGRESS."
The turrets shut down.
The alarms silenced.
Only the hum of the core remained.
Kessler fell to his knees, laughing breathlessly. "Magnificent. Even I didn't predict this."
Ethan took a slow step forward, meeting the entity's gaze.
"If you're evaluating humanity," he said steadily, "then start with me."
The entity raised its hand.
Energy coiled.
Time seemed to slow.
Mara screamed his name.
And Helios made its judgment.