The storm had only grown worse. Lightning forked across the polluted sky, illuminating Glitch City in harsh, flickering bursts. The neon signs below reflected in the puddles like fractured dreams, broken and scattered.
Anya sat cross-legged on the metal floor of Mr. K's safehouse, the hum of servers surrounding her like a whispering chorus. She'd slept for perhaps an hour — just enough to steady her hands. Not enough to quiet her mind.
Subject 07.
Reawakened.
The words had burned themselves into her thoughts.
Something in OmniCorp's network had spoken to her.
No — not spoken. Recognized her.
She wasn't sure which was worse.
Mr. K approached, silent except for the soft click of expensive leather shoes against steel. He held out a small metal vial — the kind used for high-grade stimulants.
"You'll need it," he said.
Anya stared at it for a moment, then pushed it aside.
"I'm not frying my neurons for your job."
Mr. K chuckled — a sound with no warmth. "If you say so."
She ignored him and connected the neural filament again. The port behind her ear tingled as the interface synced.
This time, she didn't dive directly into OmniCorp's security.
She slipped around it.
A side channel.
An old maintenance node.
Something no one had used in years — because no one was supposed to know it existed.
Except Anya had found it in a glitch forum six months ago. Buried in a thread that disappeared minutes after posting. She'd saved it. Something had told her she'd need it someday.
The node opened.
The digital world unfolded around her —
a sprawling cathedral of data towers, each glowing with shifting streams of encrypted light.
The network wasn't silent.
It throbbed with life.
She moved like a shadow, leaving no signature, no trace. Her program constructs followed behind her — serpents of violet code, invisible to all but the most advanced surveillance.
Then — the whisper returned.
Not through speakers.
Not through thought.
Through memory.
> "Anya."
She froze.
That voice —
No.
Impossible.
That voice had belonged to someone dead.
Her heartbeat spiked. She forced her breathing steady.
"Show yourself," she whispered into the code.
The network around her warped —
data streams bending backwards, light fracturing like broken glass —
until a figure formed from swirling fragments of fire and neon.
A silhouette.
Vague.
Unstable.
But unmistakably human in shape.
> "I know you," the voice said.
"I remember you."
Anya's pulse hammered.
"You're Project Helix, aren't you?"
Silence. Then — a flicker.
> "I was. Once."
The figure flickered again, glitching — a scream trapped behind static.
> "They took me.
They rewrote me.
They put me in the dark."
Anya stepped closer — against her better judgment.
"Subject 07…"
The figure recoiled, flame bursting outward.
> "Do not call me that."
The chamber around them shook — code fracturing under stress.
Her voice softened — cautious, almost gentle.
"Then tell me your name."
The figure flickered.
Pixels cracked.
As though remembering hurt.
> "I don't remember."
For the first time, Anya felt something unexpected —
not fear, but grief.
She reached out a hand — not physically, but through code.
A gesture of connection.
But the moment her hand neared —
ALARM.
Red light ripped across the network.
OmniCorp ICE surged into existence — crystalline wolves with razor-edge teeth, snarling firewalls of living code.
Mr. K's voice cracked through her external audio feed:
"Anya! They've detected you!"
"I know," she hissed.
The figure of flame flickered — fading.
> "They're coming.
Run."
The wolves lunged.
Anya severed her neural link —
SLAM.
She hit the ground, chest heaving, vision spinning.
The safehouse lights flickered.
Mr. K stared at her — not with concern.
With calculation.
"You made contact," he said.
Not a question.
A statement.
Anya forced herself upright.
Jaw set.
Eyes burning like neon fire.
"Project Helix isn't just data," she said.
"It's a person."
Mr. K smiled slowly — like a blade being unsheathed.
"I know."
The room fell silent.
Outside, the rain kept falling.
Inside, Anya realized something crucial:
This job wasn't about breaking into OmniCorp.
It was about breaking someone out.