The first round shattered the console to Hale’s left. Sparks exploded across the dark, filling the air with the acrid scent of ozone and burning circuitry.

Hale dropped behind a half-collapsed support beam, gun drawn, ears ringing. The relay chamber was chaos — flickering lights, echoing gunfire, the hum of the corrupted core thrumming beneath it all like a pulse that refused to die.

Another burst ripped through the haze — three disciplined shots, high velocity. Doran’s people were ...