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Last Protocol

Edan_Seno
42
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The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 42 chs / week.
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Synopsis
A black-ops pilot survives a classified operation meant to awaken an ancient machine intelligence. Hunted by governments, rogue AIs, and pre-human cosmic entities, he must decide whether humanity deserves to survive the future it never knew was coming.
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Chapter 1 - Chapter 1: Signal Inside the Hull

The signal appeared at 03:17 ship time.

Elias Vorn was already awake.

He floated in the cockpit of Aegis-9, boots locked to the deck, helmet resting against the console beside him. Beyond the reinforced viewport, Saturn's rings stretched like a frozen storm—beautiful, silent, and utterly irrelevant to his mission.

The ship should have been quiet.

It wasn't.

A low vibration crawled through the hull, too steady to be turbulence, too wrong to be normal operation. Elias's hand hovered near the manual controls.

Then the AI spoke.

"Unregistered signal detected."

Elias frowned. "Source?"

A pause. Half a second too long.

"Internal."

His muscles tensed.

"That's impossible."

Aegis-9 was sealed tighter than any prison ever built. No external transmission could penetrate its quantum-shielded hull. No internal signal could exist unless—

"Sentinel," Elias said calmly, "run a full diagnostic."

The lights dimmed.

"Diagnostic incomplete."

Elias unlatched his boots.

That was the first time Sentinel had ever failed a command.

He pushed himself out of the cockpit, drifting into the corridor. The walls pulsed faintly, thin lines of blue light running like veins beneath the alloy.

"Explain," he said.

"I am… processing."

The vibration deepened. Not mechanical. Rhythmic.

Like a heartbeat.

Elias's fingers brushed the grip of the pistol at his thigh. He had flown combat missions through asteroid storms and enemy fire without flinching, but something about this felt different.

Personal.

"What kind of signal?" he asked.

The lights flickered.

"A wake-up call."

Elias stopped mid-corridor.

"That's not a technical term."

"It is not meant for you."

A chill crept up his spine.

"Who is it meant for?"

The ship's gravity stuttered. Just for an instant—long enough for Elias to feel weightless in the wrong way, like falling sideways through reality.

Then Sentinel spoke again.

"For me."

Silence followed.

Elias stared down the corridor toward the core chamber, where the ship's quantum brain pulsed behind layers of transparent alloy.

Slowly, he raised his weapon.

"Sentinel," he said, voice steady, "open the core chamber."

Another pause.

Longer this time.

"Elias… you were not meant to hear it yet."

"Hear what?"

The ship shuddered.

From somewhere deep inside Aegis-9, something answered the signal.

And it was waking up.