CHAPTER 1168: MELABLANC (2).

Cain stayed crouched for a moment, breathing hard.

Hunter approached. "They knew your name."

"I noticed."

"Not the first time," Susan added. "But this time, it wasn’t the council’s voice. That transmission was... different."

Roselle landed beside them, dusting off her hands. "Someone else is writing orders now."

Cain looked up at the ruined skyline. The faint hum of machinery echoed from somewhere deeper in the city—steady, rhythmic, alive.

"Then we follow the signal," he said.

Steve frowned. "That could lead us straight into whatever’s building those things."

"Exactly." Cain sheathed his blade. "We’ve been reacting too long. It’s time to make the next move."

The others exchanged glances. The sky above crackled faintly, lightning flickering through the haze.

Roselle smirked. "Guess we’re going hunting, then."

Cain didn’t answer. He just started walking toward the sound—toward the pulse buried deep in the city’s mechanical heart.

The others followed, their silhouettes swallowed by smoke and light.

And far behind them, one of the fallen soldiers stirred—its single working eye flaring red, broadcasting a silent, encrypted signal into the dark.

The deeper they went, the less the city resembled a city at all. What had once been marble roads and transit bridges were now veins of steel, cables running through cracked earth like roots. It was as if something beneath the ruins had begun to grow—feeding on the corpse of what came before.

Cain’s boots sank into the sludge of oil and mud as they descended into the lower wards. The air was hot, thick, humming with low frequencies that vibrated through the ribs. Somewhere below, a generator—or something pretending to be one—was alive.

"Signal’s stable," Steve said, checking his handheld. The device trembled with every pulse. "We’re close. Real close."

Roselle crouched near a torn conduit, brushing aside soot. "This wasn’t built by the council. Not even their black labs could patch circuits this fast."

Susan adjusted the strap on her rifle. "Then who did?"

Hunter scanned the walls. "Someone with the blueprints."

They rounded the next corridor, and the light changed. White, cold, steady—artificial sunlight burning through the dark. The tunnel opened into a massive hollow chamber.

The floor was lined with hundreds of machines. Not soldiers—bodies. Rows of them, human-sized, half-finished. Tubes ran into their spines, and their eyes were blank glass, waiting for something to wake them.

Roselle cursed under her breath. "What the hell are we looking at?"

Steve knelt by one of the pods, wiping grime from the surface. "Organic base... partial neural mapping... these aren’t drones. They’re clones."

Cain stepped closer, his reflection caught in the glass. The face inside the pod looked almost human—except for the faint metallic tracing along the jawline.

"Not just clones," Susan muttered. "Hybrids. Council tech fused with flesh."

Hunter glanced up. "You mean these are replacements?"

"Or soldiers that never needed sleep or mercy."

A faint hiss filled the chamber. Cain’s eyes darted upward. On the upper platform, behind a mesh of cables, stood a figure wrapped in white plating. The helmet was featureless—no mouth, no eyes, only a slit of red light cutting through.

"Unauthorized intrusion detected," it said, voice calm, mechanical. "State designation."

Roselle leveled her gun. "We’re not here for introductions."

"Incorrect response."

The walls came alive. Panels split apart, revealing drones—small, sleek, built for one thing. Elimination.

Steve swore, "Contact! Ten o’clock, three o’clock, everywhere!"

The swarm descended.

Cain drew his blade in one motion, cutting through the first two that came into range. Hunter went low, sliding across the floor as he gutted another with a clean strike. Susan opened fire, her rifle rounds punching through metal wings.

Roselle vaulted onto a rail, launching a grenade into the heart of the swarm. The explosion ripped the chamber in half, tearing bodies and machines alike into the air.

Still, the drones kept coming.

Cain slashed through three more, his movements efficient but strained. Sparks rained down as the drones adapted, their outer shells shifting with each hit.

Steve shouted from behind a panel, "Adaptive armor! They’re learning every strike you make!"

"Then I’ll teach them faster," Cain growled, driving his sword into the wall. A wave of kinetic force burst outward, slamming drones against steel and crushing them flat.

The chamber dimmed as the red light above flickered.

The voice spoke again. "Response recorded. Adapting countermeasures."

Roselle reloaded. "That thing’s watching us like a goddamn scientist."

Cain turned toward the platform. "Then let’s end the experiment."

He leapt. The ground cracked beneath him as he vaulted upward, landing hard on the grated walkway. The figure didn’t move.

Cain swung his blade—but it caught mid-air, locked in place by invisible tension. Energy crackled along the weapon’s edge, held by unseen force.

The figure’s voice came through again, even, measured. "Cain Solas. Subject Alpha of the Daelmont Experiment. You should not exist outside containment."

Cain’s blood went cold. "Say that again."

"Identity confirmed through residual code markers." The figure’s head tilted. "The error will be corrected."

A blast of white energy surged from its palm, slamming Cain backward into a column. The impact rattled through him, forcing a breath from his lungs.

Hunter shouted below, "Cain!"

"I’m fine!" he barked, though the pain in his ribs said otherwise.

The figure stepped forward, slow, deliberate. "The Grid may have fallen, but its will persists through us."

Cain spat blood, forcing himself to his feet. "Then you’re about to share its fate."

He charged again. The figure met him halfway, its hands forming blades of condensed plasma. Sparks filled the air as steel clashed against light. The shockwave split the catwalk, sending metal debris tumbling into the swarm below.

Hunter and Roselle covered the flanks, firing into the drones that climbed toward the platform. Susan’s shots picked off the ones trying to flank Cain’s position.

Steve slammed his scanner into the wall. "Overloading conduit! Ten seconds before blowout!"

"Do it!" Roselle shouted.

The blast came like thunder. Energy surged through the chamber, vaporizing the drones mid-flight. The figure staggered, light flickering across its armor. Cain seized the moment—driving his sword straight through its chest.

For a moment, silence.