Zion stared at the massive red text floating in her vision.
The Architect did not just send another Moderator or a squad of elite Inquisitors.
The system recognized a catastrophic breach in the code and deployed a targeted countdown.
The Architect possessed twenty-four hours to patch the server and erase the anomaly permanently.
Zion picked up her black sword from the wet pine needles.
She sheathed the heavy weapon and turned around to look at the smoking crater where St. Celeste used to stand.
She operated on fifty-five percent humanity.
She felt the heavy weight of Mila clinging to her armored back.
The eight-year-old girl shivered against the cold wind, but Zion's mind locked onto the absolute mechanical reality of the game board.
She spent five hundred years trapped inside this loop.
