The digital sun bled over the jagged skyline like a dying pixel, and Anya was already on edge before the alert popped up.

  [MISSION ALERT: ELIMINATE ENEMY SURVEILLANCE NODE | REWARD: ACCESS TO CENTRAL TOWER PERIMETER]

  She and Damian barely had time to exchange a look before the ground beneath them shuddered—lurching them forward into a crumbling street that began to collapse like dominoes.

  The game wanted them moving. Fast.

  “Tell me you didn’t accept the mission,” Anya huffed, keeping pace beside Damian as they sprinted toward the abandoned metro station below.

  “I thought it accepted itself,” he muttered. “Glitch or fate, pick your poison.”

  Meanwhile…

  Becky crouched inside the ruins of an old transmission hub, where the walls buzzed with static and shadows blinked like corrupted files.

  She wasn’t following them this time. She was hunting.

  And she found it.

  A kill-switch, embedded deep inside Damian’s core code—hidden behind layers of military-grade encryption.

  Her breath caught in her throat.

  “Why would the spies build in a self-destruct if he’s on their side… unless he’s not?”

  There it was in black and white: Override Protocol D-901M: Target – Anya. Status – Dormant until activated externally.

  Becky’s fingers hovered above the screen, trembling.

  "Damian doesn’t even know what he’s capable of."

  And that terrified her more than anything.

  Back in the crumbling metro, Anya and Damian were ambushed.

  Spy agents dropped from the ceiling vents—faceless figures in matte black, eyes glowing blue through masks.

  “Split!” Anya yelled, diving behind a rusted vending machine.

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  Damian followed, guns drawn in glitch-mode, flickering like they were made of smoke and code.

  A full-blown firefight erupted.

  Lasers sizzled past Anya’s ear as she ducked and rolled.

  Damian moved with deadly precision, but something about the way his eyes glazed over mid-fight sent shivers down her spine.

  Like someone else was driving him.

  Just then, Becky arrived like a whirlwind—frying pan in hand, again—and cracked the first spy’s visor like a walnut.

  “You started without me?” she shouted, spinning like she was in a dance-off.

  Anya blinked. “You brought the pan again?”

  “It’s cast iron, babe! They don’t make 'em like this in the game shop!”

  One spy aimed straight at Becky—no hesitation.

  She was no longer a ghost feeding them info.

  She was now marked.

  Becky took a hit.

  Anya screamed, rushing toward her.

  She hadn’t even noticed the panic in her own voice, not until she dropped beside Becky, clutching her by the collar.

  “You got shot! Why did you come back? Why didn’t you run?”

  “I couldn't leave you,” Becky coughed, a crooked grin still on her lips. “I was a traitor. You didn’t have to forgive me. But… I couldn’t keep being one.”

  Anya’s jaw clenched.

  The battle raged around them.

  Damian stood like a broken statue—eyes flickering, lips moving without sound.

  Becky looked up at Anya and said, “I didn’t press the kill switch.”

  Anya froze.

  “What?”

  “I had it. I could’ve ended him. But if they can control him remotely… I figured you deserved the truth before I judged him.”

  A crack rang out.

  A spy agent lunged toward them.

  This time, Anya moved without thinking.

  And something awakened.

  She fought with the desperation of someone who had something to protect again.

  Not just survival. But friendship. Humanity.

  Rage and love twisted together as she tore through the enemy like a human storm, fists and stolen blade moving in tandem like a trained assassin.

  Anya wasn’t just surviving now.

  She was fighting back.

  From the rubble rose a spider-legged machine with a screen for a face.

  The Cipher Protocol Sentinel—a mid-tier boss created to protect the Central Tower’s perimeter data walls.

  “ACCESS DENIED. TARGET: ANYA. INITIATING NULLIFICATION SEQUENCE.”

  The fight was brutal.

  The boss absorbed data from their attacks, reshaping its armor.

  Anya threw everything she had.

  Becky threw the frying pan like a boomerang (it somehow worked).

  Damian overloaded the core firewall, melting part of its processor with a viral injection—then paused, like his body wanted to move again, against his will.

  Becky screamed, “Don’t let the override win, Damian! YOU AREN’T A WEAPON!”

  Damian roared, breaking free just in time to deliver the final blow.

  The boss glitched, then exploded into a shower of binary stars.

  Their victory unlocked a bridge of light—stretching directly toward the Central Tower Base, now looming ahead like a digital cathedral of answers and endgames.

  The three stood silent.

  Still breathing. Still bleeding. But finally, together again.

  Becky looked at Anya and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  Anya stared at her for a moment, then nodded. “Me too.”

  And Damian?

  Damian didn’t say a word.

  His fists were clenched. His code still hummed.

  And inside his mind, a voice whispered:

  “Override Level: 82%. Awaiting next command…”