8:45 PM – Southern Ridge Exfiltration Route, Outskirts of the Ghostline
Phones across the world flared to life.
From the neon-stained rooftops of Hong Kong to underground kill-cages in Rio, in military blacksites and lawless warzones, they all saw it:
"PRIORITY BOUNTY – TARGET: AIKO // DEAD OR ALIVE – ALL ACCESS GRANTED // REWARD: LIMITLESS"
One line of encrypted text underneath:
"Override Dominion Initiated."
The world's worst had just been given permission.
At the Ghostline Ridge, something deep inside Aiko twisted—not fear, not pain, but a strange, cold finality.
She looked down at her palm. The Seal burned faint violet, webbing out like signal roots across her skin.
"They just told the world to hunt me," she said.
Ryoji didn't look at her. He was already moving.
Moments later – Southern Slope Killzone
The first wave wasn't amateurs.
This was Mercurial Dawn—a specialized rapid-response kill cell, ex-Division. Urban suppressors, silenced exo-gliders, spike-blade gauntlets tuned for body cavity targeting. No names. Just numbers.
"Execute and extract," their leader whispered into the comms. "No survivors."
But as their scopes adjusted to the darkness—
The night screamed.
BRRRRRRRRRAAAAATTT—!
Ryoji didn't wait. The Vulcan-GX rotary cannon ripped the terrain apart. Trees shredded. Ground cracked. Shadows burst into chunks.
One of the killers tried to leap the ravine on magnetic boots.
Ryoji tracked him mid-air.
Click—THUD.
The man fell, nothing but bones and cinders.
From behind a ridge, another squad crept in.
Velvet Dagger. Slum-born ghostkillers. They moved in silence, wrapping blades in gauze to stifle the sound of death. They never spoke.
But Aiko felt them.
Her Seal pulsed again—brighter this time, sensing killing intent.
She raised her hand.
And the ground glitched for a moment. A spike of signal burst out from her palm, shorting their neural comms.
Their cloaks flickered. Ryoji saw them.
And Ryoji acted.
Above – Division Zero Black Channel
Somewhere cold. Metal floors. A thousand monitors, all tracking dots moving toward the Ghostline.
The Director leaned forward, hands clasped.
"She's already emitting directional signal bursts. That Seal is evolving. She's doing it without guidance."
One of the analysts looked nervous. "Sir… if she's broadcasting coordinates unconsciously… it's not just mercenaries who'll come. The old units might wake up."
A pause.
The Director smiled faintly.
"Good."
"Sir?"
"She's the last variable in a dying equation. If she survives Override Dominion, she deserves to be the Core."
Back on the Ridge
Flame. Smoke. Screams.
Ryoji stepped over the broken remains of three more killers, gun steaming. He hadn't spoken in minutes. There was no need.
Aiko crouched beside Miura, her hand on the dirt, eyes shut.
"I feel everything now," she whispered. "Their signals. Their rage. Their hunger. But also…"
Miura leaned closer. "Also what?"
"Someone else. Not like them. Watching. Waiting."
Miura's blood ran cold. "Division?"
"No," Aiko said. "Something worse."
Ryoji reloaded in silence.
"We hold this line," he said. "No one touches her."
The smoke parted—and a new shape emerged.
Not a man.
Not quite.
Armor stitched from memory-flesh. A face that looked half-digital. A war relic walking.
One of the old programs had arrived.
Ryoji tensed.
"Looks like Override worked both ways," he muttered.
To be continued in Chapter 60.....